Faith

Pay attention.  There will be a quiz at the end of this post.  :)

On the wall of my living room, there hangs an Amish print called "Five Happy Quilters" which primitively shows five girls/women dancing in a circle around two quilts hanging on a clothesline, with a house and horse-and-buggy in the background.  The caption is: "None live so pleasantly as those who live by faith".  I believe that or I wouldn't have it on my wall--except that I think I was more attracted by the colors of the print than by the message when I bought it. 

I have always had faith in God.  I just didn't understand, early on, that my faith would sometimes be challenged.  One of my favorite ministers through the years gave an illustration in a sermon once that struck a chord with me.  He told of a man who fell off a cliff and was hanging on to a branch that stopped his fall.  The man cried to God for help and heard a clear voice claiming to be God, telling him that he would be saved if he had faith.  The frightened man wasn't so sure.  "How do I know that you are God?" he asked.  The voice answered, "Let go!"

There are times in life when one has no choice but to let go and put oneself in the hands of people that he/she does not know or trust.  My brain aneurysm and heart attack are testament to that.   My life was saved by people who did not even know me.  How much faith did I put in that?  How much faith did I have when the crises were over and I had survived??

I have a relatively young Facebook friend who is the son of a Salvation Army officer (minister).  He suffers from uncontrolled epilepsy and is frequently posting despondent messages about himself.  But he has a gift.  He has a camera and an eye for pictures...some of which are absolutely stunning.  I took the trouble to write to a a couple of sources that would be happy to have his pictures for their publications, but when I wrote to him and suggested that he needed to copyright and submit them, he told me no....that his success had to be totally up to God...that he was relying on God to discover his talents...that he would not promote his pictures.  In short, the sources had to come to him, not the other way around.  So, who's wrong?  Him for believing that opportunities will just fall in his lap, inspired by God...or me, for believing that he needs to take control of what God has already given him?  Is this about faith? 

Most of us have faith that the sun will come up in the morning because it always does.  We have faith that we will wake up in the morning, although not all of us do.  Sometimes, our faith is rewarded with the desired outcome; sometimes it isn't.  So what is the purpose of being faithful?  What do we gain by hanging on to what we believe when there isn't always a positive response?

Faith means believing in something that we cannot see or prove by empirical means.  Do you believe?   Do you have faith?  Where does that take you in your life?  I think the delightful little print hanging on my wall is a reminder that I need to be more faithful and submit to (and be grateful for)  whatever God has in store for me....and hope that I've been worthy enough to receive it.

Quiz:  Are you?

 

R.I.P. Jiminy

When I got up before dawn this morning to use the bathroom, in the glow from the TV I could see a black spot on the floor.  I turned on the light, and there he was:  my little cricket friend from two days ago lying belly-up on the floor, quite dead.  Oh, Jiminy!  I hardly knew ye! 

No small specimen, he.  He was a healthy size.  My understanding is that crickets eat about anything, so, with all of the crud on the floor in my house, I'm pretty sure he didn't starve to death.  Not sure what the life expectancy of a cricket is, but it did start my brain to wondering what killed him. 

I'll never know, of course....or care...but it does remind me of other occasions somewhat like it.

Back in 1980, my ex and I moved to Pontiac, IL, where he was to take over the principalship of the junior high school.  I don't remember a house search--only that we settled on an old brick farmhouse in the country just outside of town to rent.  The living space was all on one level, but it had a full basement and a walk-in attic.  There was also a "dumb-waiter" from the kitchen to the basement--a pulley-driven platform that, in the old days, would take home-canned goods from upstairs to downstairs without a zillion human trips.  We had many encounters with country vermin in that house.

Megan had her second birthday there in March.  I put the remains of her birthday cake in a Tupperware cake holder in the dumb-waiter for safe keeping.  The next day, as she sat in her high chair, I opened the dumb-waiter to get her a piece of cake, and out jumped a mouse!  He had been gnawing on the Tupperware in hopes of getting to the cake.  Megan saw it and said, "A buggy!"  I said, "No...a mousey!"  I chased the thing onto the inside back porch and squished it between some boxes stored there, hoping beyond hope that I had killed it.  (Yeah, right.) 

That afternoon, when Joe got home from school, I saw the mouse run out from under the door of Megan's room to the bathroom.  I asked my big, strong husband to do something about it.  He stood up, sniffed a bit and hiked up his britches, then went into the bathroom and shut the door.  What happened after that was nothing short of cartoonish.  I heard banging and knocking and it seemed as though the bathroom walls were pulsating in and out as the fight ensued.  Finally--FINALLY--I heard the toilet flush and Joe emerged.  He came out victorious over the mouse, but not before the mouse had run up his leg! 

All that spring and summer, we fought crickets and mice and spiders and other critters in the house....and outside, too.  I had a vegetable garden there.  I complained that something was eating off my newly-planted tomato plants.  Then I heard KA-POW! Joe used his shotgun to eliminate the culprit--a ground squirrel.  About that same time, I was working in the garden with my 2-year-old playing nearby when I noticed a rat sitting under the propane tank.  It was not flopped over looking dead, but it was just sitting there, no matter how close I got, and I worried.  Was it sick from eating rat poison in the outbuildings?  Was it rabid?  Would it hurt my child?  Was it even alive?  I was alone at the time but determined that I could not just fold up and go inside without taking care of the problem.  I found a shovel and beat the silly thing to death.  (Honestly, it didn't move, so I'm not totally certain it was even alive to begin with, but I have to tell you that it was really difficult for me to beat on what I thought was a living thing, even if it was really, really sick.  I have no trouble killing bugs, but other critters get to me.)  I was traumatized!!

I thought I was the only one frustrated by having the outside in the house all the time.  But one day, as I was going up the attic stairs for something, I found a dead mouse halfway up the stairs.  I wondered what caused it to die there.  When I posed the question to my husband, he said, "The crickets and spiders probably beat it to death!"  I got the message.

What really cooked things for me was when the basement toilet in that house ran, unnoticed, for many hours.  It drained the well below the level of the water pump, and the pump burned out.  We went out to check on the well.  The only thing that covered it was a small v-shaped roof (with shingles) and chicken wire around the sides.  Visible down inside, among unknown other things, were a string mop-head and the plastic rings that hold a 6-pack of cans together.  Whaaat??  And we've been drinking this water?????  The landlady was not particularly pleased to have to replace the pump, but we were done with the whole place.  We found a house in town to rent--a much better choice.  We were only in the farmhouse for, maybe, 18 months.  It had been an adventure, but I was glad when it was over.

Back to Jiminy.  I didn't kill this one.  His blood is not on my hands...and may the god of insects have mercy on his shiny black little soul.  Oh...and good riddance!

Consequences

I'm pretty sure that when Indianapolis Metropolitcan Police Officer Rod Bradway put on his body armor and uniform yesterday to head out to his overnight shift, he didn't have a thought about not coming home.  But he didn't.  He was shot and killed by a man who was attacking a woman in an apartment.  It's a big deal in Indy.  That's all the news is about today--and rightly so. 

All of the info isn't out yet.  Suffice it to say that the other police with him were able to return fire, and the perpetrator was also killed.  The "perp" had a record, but mostly just for drug charges.  He wasn't known as a violent killer, but that's what he became.  So here I am, wondering just what goes on in the mind of someone committing a violent act?  Often, we just don't know because the criminal dies with the act.  Suicide by Police?  If the man wanted to die, he could have taken care of that without killing a policeman.

My good friend Dr. Phil frequently asks people he is trying to help what they predict the results will be if they continue to behave a certain way.  Interesting thought!  When people are misbehaving, are they actually thinking about the consequences of what they are doing?  Do they truly believe they won't get caught?  Or, if they get caught, do they expect to be forgiven?  If what they have done to others were visited upon them, would/could they be willing to get back what they gave out?  I wish I knew!

John Wilkes Booth, Abraham Lincoln's assassin, was a Southern sympathizer and imagined himself to be a saviour of the nation when he killed the President.  Imagine his shock and surprise to find himself being hunted down like a dog (and eventually killed).  Most "perps" just throw themselves into the court system and hope for better treatment than they gave their victims.  I actually have a tiny little bit of respect for Timothy McVeigh and John Mohammad who denied appeals and let the system exact its punishment quickly.

I'm not 100% sure that people who commit these acts are crazy.  Some clearly are, like the dude who kidnapped and kept Kaycee Dugard for ten years...or the one who kidnapped and kept Elizabeth Smart.  Some know they are but do nothing about it, like the dude who kidnapped and kept three women for at least that long, then told the court he wasn't a "monster"--just sick--and hanged himself in his jail cell.  Others believe that the people they killed, tortured, whatever, deserved to die and that they were justified--and any innocent parties that were affected were just "collateral damage".   Are the rest just the result of their raising???  Do we blame the parents?  And who else??

Sometimes, these performers of evil deeds just behave like cornered animals.  You hear that a lot about dogs that attack people--they were "just doing what Nature programmed them to do".  So, is that it?  Are we homo sapiens nothing more than the rest of animalia, and nothing higher-functioning can be expected of us?  It would seem so.  And it makes me very, very sad.   

Jeeminy Creeckit!

I know, I know....my brain is weird.  I think in associations which doesn't happen to other people, so I accept that I'm off the chart.

While watching TV tonight, I heard a cricket chirping.  At first, I thought it was on the show, but an ad came on and the chirping continued.  I muted the TV and the chirping amazingly stopped.  AHA!  This is familiar to me!  When i was a kid visiting my grandparents in their garage-turned-farmhouse, floor bugs were the norm, and crickets (big and small) were common visitors in the house.  I could hear them and would go after them, but the minute I honed in on the location, the chirping would stop.  I hated that because it meant that I would have to deal with them all night as I had to sleep on the hide-a-bed in the living room.  I don't remember complaining much because it would have done no good.  The sleeping arrangements were the sleeping arrangements, and the farm was the farm.  There was no such thing as being bug-free....although in my years in my house-on-a-slab, I have tried to stay as un-buggy as possible. 

There are always spiders, of course.  Plus, each year I have had to put up with big black ants for a few weeks.  One year,  I had an infestation of earwigs that drove me crazy, but never since.  I've never had to deal with crickets, but they seem to be more obvious on the patio...and now one in the house??

Jiminy?  Is that you???

Falling in Luv

Before church this morning, I was looking for something to adorn my outfit.  Once upon a time, I had a ton of costume jewelry that soon became mixed with my daughter's and was eventually relegated to a box in the storage closet.  I dragged that out.  OMG!  What memories I found in that box!

One treasure was a pin...an ISU pin.  Illinois State University, with a little chain off to the side with "69" on it--my graduation year.  Just a deoration, right?  Wrong!!  That tiny little pin represented hopes for the future--giddy little female things.  And now it lives in a box out of sight. 

The ISU that I attended from 1965-69 had no sororities or fraternities.  It was one of the things that attracted me, aside from the fact that both of my parents attended there, and my father graduated in 1941 and is now in their Football Hall of Fame.  I lived in a dorm that made the residents of our floor  our own little sorority of sorts.

There was a hierarchy of love.  If you were dating someone, great.  After that, however, were the "milestones" of intention.  If you got an ISU lavalier from your BF, that meant you were going steady.  Getting "pinned" (with the pin that I mentioned above), you were pre-engaged.  Engagement, of course, required a diamond ring.  And each level of commitment required a candlelight ceremony on the dorm floor. 

Lots of candlelight ceremonies occurred on Sunday evenings after gals returned from weekends at home, etc.  We were called together to sit in a circle on the floor and wonder with amazement who was the lucky gal to be lavaliered/pinned/engaged.  A lit candle was passed around until it reached the right person who then blew out the candle.  We would all shriek and be happy for her.  Whoop-de-doo!

In my old age now, I wonder how many of those candlelight ceremonies resulted in marriage...and how many of those marriages lasted.  The pin that I got from my BF back then is now in a box in storage.  I did get a diamond ring out of the relationship but I eventually gave it back when I figured out that I was just caught up in the moment and that marrying him would have been a huge mistake.  I made other huge mistakes in my life thereafter.  Thankfully, that wasn't one of them! 

I'm so very glad that we aren't always held responsible for stupidity in our 20s.  At that age, people think they know everything about themselves and life.  HA!!

I'm not going to throw the pin away.  Guess my daughter will have to figure out what to do with it after I'm gone....or maybe I should offer it up for someone to buy?  We'll see!

So Good

It felt great to be back in church this morning.  Familiar faces; familiar worship. So many thing to be thankful for!

My daughter is sitting at the soccer fields in Zion, IL, freezing.  She actually sent her husband to Walmart for a blanket!  While we have 89 humid degrees here, she is experiencing MAYBE 68 cloudy, breezy temps.  What a difference 200 miles make!

Since it is now September, I consider it fall, even though it isn't, technically.  I break out the fall decorations that will survive until Thanksgiving.  I love fall, but I sometimes also dread it because of the leaves that need to be raked and the gutters that need to be cleaned out.  Thankfully, I have a helper now.  Hope he takes care of himself because I sure do rely on him!!

I haven't done anything today.  It's the Sabbath!   Never mind that I don't do anything any other day, either.  This one is sacred.  :)

On to other endeavors....like foraging for food that I don't need.  Stopped at Panda Express on my way home from church.  Big mistake.  That's all I will eat today, I promised myself.  Really.  Truly!

She's Baaaaaaack!

No, I have not passed into the great beyond!  I was, however,  at my daughter's in Grayslake, IL, unintentionally, for a whole month!  I got into projects and time passed, one thing leading to another, and suddenly my granddaughter's Miss Zion pageant was only a week away, making no financial sense for me to drive home and back for it in such a short time.  I missed the pageant last year.  Didn't want that to happen again.

 

I went up very early in August, two days before my granddaughter's 11th birthday (on the 6th).  Here is a partial list of what I did:

 

*Made a chocolate and bacon birthday cake (Robin's request) and put cream cheese/Nutella frosting on it.

*Attended Robin's birthday dinner with all parents, step-parents, and two grandparents at Olive Garden in Gurnee.
 

*Shopped for a dress for Robin to be used as the base for a duct tape dress that she wanted to make....then shopped for duct tape.  (Two separate trips.)

*Assisted with the duct tape dress, which took several days.  (This was mostly Robin and her mom.)

*Went to the kids' home in Zion, IL, to look at a couple of pageant dresses--one an evening gown that needed a little work but made Robin look absolutely gorgeous (and way too grown up).

*Found a crochet pattern online for a shrug to wear with one of the pageant dresses.  Shopped for just the right yarn.

*Crocheted the shrug.  (This took about 2 days, if you don't count the time I had to rip out rows because I wasn't happy with my execution of the directions.  Haven't crocheted in years!!!!)

*Canned a half-bushel of peaches, with Meg's help.  We did 18 pints of slices and 6 pints of freezer preserves.  (This took most of a day with one of Denis's co-worker's in the house for a work session.)

*Took the children shopping to Five Below in Vernon Hills so Robin could blow some of her birthday gift card.

*Read the book Harris and Me to the grandkids over a week.  They loved it!  (So do I.)

*Did the whole family's laundry twice... because I could....

*Cooked meals and did dishes--ongoing and forever!  (Megan had been diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome in her right hand.  She needed help!)

*Processed and froze 8 HUGE zucchini squash purchased from a little farm down the road. 

*Hemmed part of Robin's pageant ball gown.  (Just for safety, in the back.)

*Helped Robin with one chapter of her summer book for a Gifted/Talented class in middle school this school year.  (She had already read it.  Just wanted to re-read and asked if I would do the honors for that one chapter.  Plus, we talked about the characteristics of the genre of that book, etc.  Never hurts!)

*Met the family when they came out of the theater after seeing Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters, only because Robin had to go to Zion for soccer practice, but Ryan didn't want to go there, so I picked him up and brought him home with me while the rest went on.

*Held the fort while the parents went to various doctor appointments.

*Helped to host Denis's work partner from Colorado.  (Denis had not been able to be at work while Eric was in town, due to back problems, so he was invited here to work.  We did our best to impress him but had the kitchen torn up with peach processing!)

*Washed Ryan's hair.  (Why do I include this??  Ryan takes showers on a regular basis, when told to.  When he emerges, the sides of his hair are wet, but the top is usually mysteriously dry, and it never looks clean.  One day, I told him I was washing his hair in the sink...and I did.  Thereafter, his hair shined and smelled good--proof that he really doesn't wash it when he showers!!)

 

On Friday, August 23rd, we drove the grandchildren back to their custodial home in Zion,  Their summer break at Mom's was over.  School starts Tuesday.  Back to reality for all of us.  Kinda sad...

 

Both children reported some "excitement".  Ryan plugged the vacuum cleaner into an outlet in his bedroom and sparks ensued.  There was a mini-fire.  Daddy came running with a fire extinguisher.  All was well but it scared the children.  Such is life in an old home! 

 After the children left, things at my daughter's got dull and lifeless.  We all hid in corners of the house for recuperation.  Meg and and Denis attended the children's open houses at school on the day before their first day of school.  I just became a vegetable.

Judy and Phil Heffelman, my friends and the grandchildren's paternal grandparents, decided to come up for Labor Day Weekend, to attend Robin's pageant.  God bless them, they (or he?) can't handle the fear of city traffic, so they took I-74 all the way over to Bloomington, IL, the up on I-39 to Rockford and over to Zion.  A trip that normally takes me 3 1/2-4 hours via the tollroad took them 7 1/2!!  They decided to bed with us.  (This is a little hard to explain to people familiar with divorce situations who expect the parties to be "warring".  Not so in our case.  Nathan--my former son-in-law [and family] have an open invitation to stay at my house if they need/want to be in Plainfield because his parents [Judy and Phil] don't have available space for them yet.  And Judy and Phil have an open invitation to stay at Meg's--their former daughter-in-law-- if they want to visit because Nathan doesn't have available space for them yet.  I think it all works out.)

Last weekend, I got a new look at my grandchildren.  Ryan is softer--quicker to say "thank you" and "sorry" without prompting.  Quicker to hug.  Better around his step-sister, and she around him.  (Done with mirrors and smoke??)  He is adorably good-looking, but shy.  (I look for that to change!)

Robin is simply no longer a child.  Long and lean and beautiful with stage presence I didn't think possible, she is a winner!  She did not win the pageant but we couldn't have cared less.  She was a shining star--so much more natural than the girls who were "memorized" and  sickly- sweet with their memorized speeches that someone else wrote for them.  If she was disappointed that she didn't win, she didn't show it.  Words cannot express how proud I am of that young lady!

So now I am home, trying to catch up with all of the repairs that seem to be hitting me in retaliation for my having been gone so long. 

As one of my nephews would say, "Yeah buddy.  Peace out."