I was on a roll this morning! Fixin's for a good lunch of chicken gumbo on the stove, and then the bright idea to make a lemon meringue pie!
I had a couple of lemons on hand, a pie crust, and plenty of eggs for the pie and topping. Getting organized, I sat down at the table to squeeze the juice from the lemons. They were very juicy and their pungent scent made my mouth water. Finished squeezing, I was carrying the juice to the counter when I dropped the bowl! The kitchen was engulfed in a cloud of lemony fragrance! So much for the pie!
Settling my nerves while the gumbo bubbled, I sat down at the computer. Looking at vignettes of cute kids' activities and videos I wanted to share, I was disheartened that my computer was not audible! No sound came out no matter what I did! My phone was the same way. This was not turning out to be my day! Giving up on the computer, I had to admit that lunch was delicious, however.
Still frustrated, I thought of the feature on my phone that gives all kinds of information, and searched it. Sure enough, several helps were given, but none uncomplicated enough for me. Disconsolately glancing down at my keyboard I noticed tiny buttons with a speaker motif. Pushing one of them I couldn't believe it when the sound came on! I was back among the living!
The only thing still hanging over our heads now is the disappearance of Howard's spare car key! No amount of searching or contacting lost and found possibilities have been successful. It's discovery will be the key to family harmony!
Thursday, February 27, 2020
Tuesday, February 25, 2020
The Walking Stick
"Where is my cane?" my husband queried as we got out of the car after grocery shopping. I helped him look for it, but it wasn't in the car or the trunk. Not again! Had we left it in a shopping cart while unloading?
The next morning Howard called Walmart to see if his cane had been turned in. It hadn't. We couldn't believe his favorite cane was lost again! He held on to my arm as needed until he could get to the store to buy a replacement.
He was due for a check-up at the doctor's office a couple of days later, and afterward we had to go to the pharmacy to get a prescription filled. "Do you sell canes?" I asked the pharmacy clerk, to which he answered, "There may be a few left back there," directing us to the handicapped accessibility area.
We checked and were soon examining and trying out different metal, adjustable canes. They were not too suitable, and quite expensive, too. Resignedly putting one in our cart, Howard said, "On second thought, let's go back to Lost and Found and ask once again if my cane might have been turned in."
We waited behind interminably slow customers, as they shifted positions while the attendants took care of refunds and returns. Finally it was our turn, and Howard asked if his cane might be there. After describing it to the clerk, she wordlessly headed to the back and came back with a shiny, highly-polished wooden cane! Our cane! Praise God! We quickly handed over the one from our cart that we would not be purchasing!
What if we had not gone back there? I thought of the scripture in the Bible that says in Matthew 7:7-8: "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you;
"For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth ; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."
A good object lesson for us, and a great scripture Jesus taught from "The Sermon on the Mount"!
The next morning Howard called Walmart to see if his cane had been turned in. It hadn't. We couldn't believe his favorite cane was lost again! He held on to my arm as needed until he could get to the store to buy a replacement.
He was due for a check-up at the doctor's office a couple of days later, and afterward we had to go to the pharmacy to get a prescription filled. "Do you sell canes?" I asked the pharmacy clerk, to which he answered, "There may be a few left back there," directing us to the handicapped accessibility area.
We checked and were soon examining and trying out different metal, adjustable canes. They were not too suitable, and quite expensive, too. Resignedly putting one in our cart, Howard said, "On second thought, let's go back to Lost and Found and ask once again if my cane might have been turned in."
We waited behind interminably slow customers, as they shifted positions while the attendants took care of refunds and returns. Finally it was our turn, and Howard asked if his cane might be there. After describing it to the clerk, she wordlessly headed to the back and came back with a shiny, highly-polished wooden cane! Our cane! Praise God! We quickly handed over the one from our cart that we would not be purchasing!
What if we had not gone back there? I thought of the scripture in the Bible that says in Matthew 7:7-8: "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you;
"For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth ; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."
A good object lesson for us, and a great scripture Jesus taught from "The Sermon on the Mount"!
Monday, February 24, 2020
Spring Awakening
Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! I heard from a tree in the yard. A woodpecker! "Its a sign of spring," my husband said as we got into the car. Maybe so, I'm so ready for spring!
I do love woodpeckers! Their resounding staccato in the trees or posts are like a signal to the forests that they are here.
I once saw a large, white bird with red. black and white feathers on a telephone post as we passed by on the highway. I realized it was a woodpecker, but the biggest I had ever seen. It looked like the comic book character, Woody Woodpecker!
I once saw a large, white bird with red. black and white feathers on a telephone post as we passed by on the highway. I realized it was a woodpecker, but the biggest I had ever seen. It looked like the comic book character, Woody Woodpecker!
Later, I learned it was a pileated woodpecker, referring to the crest on top of its head. These interesting birds are useful in God's creation. When hammering out a cavity in a tree, they are leaving a nesting spot for birds who frequently make homes inside a tree. The woodpeckers, however, do not nest there.
Thinking of birds bring back memories of when I was a little girl, maybe 4 or 5. A nest of blue-jays was in a tree in our front yard, and as the little birds were learning to fly, several dropped to the ground. Attracted by the cute little birds, I picked them up one by one and lined them up on the fence. I was so proud of my treasure, when mama bird flew down and flogged me on the head! Not like a woodpecker drilling, but pretty close!
Years later, my husband and sons built a deck attached to our house, leaving an opening for a sapling in the corner. As time went by, the sapling grew and harbored a bird nest. Soon, little blue eggs filled the nest from which I later heard tantalizing little cheeps. Curiosity got the best of me, so I put a folding ladder on the deck and climbed to peek in the nest. Wrong! Mama bird got me again! I was just glad it wasn't a woodpecker!
Thinking of birds bring back memories of when I was a little girl, maybe 4 or 5. A nest of blue-jays was in a tree in our front yard, and as the little birds were learning to fly, several dropped to the ground. Attracted by the cute little birds, I picked them up one by one and lined them up on the fence. I was so proud of my treasure, when mama bird flew down and flogged me on the head! Not like a woodpecker drilling, but pretty close!
Years later, my husband and sons built a deck attached to our house, leaving an opening for a sapling in the corner. As time went by, the sapling grew and harbored a bird nest. Soon, little blue eggs filled the nest from which I later heard tantalizing little cheeps. Curiosity got the best of me, so I put a folding ladder on the deck and climbed to peek in the nest. Wrong! Mama bird got me again! I was just glad it wasn't a woodpecker!
Friday, February 21, 2020
Stamp of Approval
What a difference a day makes! Yesterday was gray, snow falling thick and fast, transforming the landscape and roadside woods and trees! But today has cleared off beautifully, with hardly a trace of snow, except from our walkway.
We wanted to go to the mailbox for the mail, so we went out through the back porch, avoiding the slippery, still snow-covered walk. Walking on the driveway toward the car, Howard reached in his pocket, then announced that he didn't have the car key! Since he needed the prescribed exercise anyway, he decided to walk with me down the considerable length of driveway to the mailbox.
The whole episode was created because my husband couldn't locate a book of stamps he bought last week. We had gone to the post office to mail a birthday present for our little great-grandson, Kaden. (Much as I fretted that the box I had fashioned might not hold together, it was received intact exactly on the little guy's two-year-old birthday!) I distinctly remember that Howard had bought a ten-dollar book of postage stamps from the Postal agent that day, but it was no where to be found today, when he wanted it for some correspondence.
Well, we missed the mail-out, but there's always tomorrow. I got to thinking, though, about the importance of postage stamps. About how things were sealed in yesteryear, with the stamp of a ruler's ring embedded in wax for confirmation.
It's as if when we receive salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord, we receive His stamp. His stamp is embedded in our heart, mind and spirit. Just as a bride receives a ring when she is married, one day we will be "stamped" eternally with our heavenly bridegroom.
Revelation 19:7 "Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honor to him, for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready."
"And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints." Revelation 19:8.
May we always carry His stamp in our hearts and His image in our person!
We wanted to go to the mailbox for the mail, so we went out through the back porch, avoiding the slippery, still snow-covered walk. Walking on the driveway toward the car, Howard reached in his pocket, then announced that he didn't have the car key! Since he needed the prescribed exercise anyway, he decided to walk with me down the considerable length of driveway to the mailbox.
The whole episode was created because my husband couldn't locate a book of stamps he bought last week. We had gone to the post office to mail a birthday present for our little great-grandson, Kaden. (Much as I fretted that the box I had fashioned might not hold together, it was received intact exactly on the little guy's two-year-old birthday!) I distinctly remember that Howard had bought a ten-dollar book of postage stamps from the Postal agent that day, but it was no where to be found today, when he wanted it for some correspondence.
Well, we missed the mail-out, but there's always tomorrow. I got to thinking, though, about the importance of postage stamps. About how things were sealed in yesteryear, with the stamp of a ruler's ring embedded in wax for confirmation.
It's as if when we receive salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord, we receive His stamp. His stamp is embedded in our heart, mind and spirit. Just as a bride receives a ring when she is married, one day we will be "stamped" eternally with our heavenly bridegroom.
Revelation 19:7 "Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honor to him, for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready."
"And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints." Revelation 19:8.
May we always carry His stamp in our hearts and His image in our person!
Thursday, February 20, 2020
Marvels of the Snow
A beautiful snow fall is covering everything outside today! Earlier, we debated on whether to go to town to pick up a prescription, but there were only little melting drops then, and when we got back, it was a winter wonderland!
Now the trees are loaded with a mantel of white, the evergreens scalloped like a lacy scarf, and the bare limbs of the forest outlined in perfect symmetry. Graceful cedars are holding out their arms in welcome, as they are draped in shawls of lace. Every branch and twig of a humble bush or sapling is white-coated and transformed into a tangle of wonder!
Earlier, we had thought to eat in town, but the increasing fluff falling from the sky made us reconsider; we would have lunch at home. We found the steps to our door were covered in the deep white stuff and looked forbiddingly risky, so we went in the back under the shelter of the porch. Of course, we'd made the mistake of picking up too many groceries, but we were glad when I served a delicious, home-made repast in the warmth of our kitchen.
Kids love snow. Every time it snows here in Tennessee, our little great-grand kids ask in excitement, "Is it Christmas again?" or they announce happily, "It's Christmas!
I remember when our youngest, Jamie, about 12 at the time, came in and remarked: "Snow is my favorite kind of weather. You can play in it, make a snowman, throw snowballs, and when you come in, you feel like you've been swimming!"
Job 38:22, asks, "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?"
In Psalm 147:16-17, it is written, "He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. (17) He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?"
I do love snow, but I hope this is the last one for this season!
Now the trees are loaded with a mantel of white, the evergreens scalloped like a lacy scarf, and the bare limbs of the forest outlined in perfect symmetry. Graceful cedars are holding out their arms in welcome, as they are draped in shawls of lace. Every branch and twig of a humble bush or sapling is white-coated and transformed into a tangle of wonder!
Earlier, we had thought to eat in town, but the increasing fluff falling from the sky made us reconsider; we would have lunch at home. We found the steps to our door were covered in the deep white stuff and looked forbiddingly risky, so we went in the back under the shelter of the porch. Of course, we'd made the mistake of picking up too many groceries, but we were glad when I served a delicious, home-made repast in the warmth of our kitchen.
Kids love snow. Every time it snows here in Tennessee, our little great-grand kids ask in excitement, "Is it Christmas again?" or they announce happily, "It's Christmas!
I remember when our youngest, Jamie, about 12 at the time, came in and remarked: "Snow is my favorite kind of weather. You can play in it, make a snowman, throw snowballs, and when you come in, you feel like you've been swimming!"
Job 38:22, asks, "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?"
In Psalm 147:16-17, it is written, "He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. (17) He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?"
I do love snow, but I hope this is the last one for this season!
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
T for Trevor
What a blessing and great time we had when our son, Trevor, came from Texas for a few days' visit with us and his sister Julie's family in Tennessee! Squeals of delight echoed as Uncle Trevor tickled and rough-housed with the little ones, our great-grandchildren. The granddaughters had prepared a wonderful meal for all, over which conversation and laughter ruled, followed by guitar-pickin', singing. and a ukulele performance by the teenage daughter in the family.
The next day, Trevor was introduced to the historic district of Jonesborough, the oldest town in Tennessee, where, after a pharmacy visit for Howard, we met up with Julie's family for lunch in our favorite eatery, Main St. Cafe. By then, the sun had come out, perfect for a foray into the mountains, courtesy of our driver, son-in-law Steve.
As always, the scenery was breath-taking the higher we went, wending our way to steep elevations of mountain crags and thick forests, trees standing tall and denuded of leaves except for the evergreens and pines. Back into civilization, sights were pointed out, especially the imposing church where Julie and Steve had served so many years, teaching, preaching and serving the needs of the community.
We were especially excited the next day to introduce Trevor to "The Birthplace of Country Music" in Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia. After spending an impressive few hours in the Smithsonian Affiliate Museum, we had a great lunch at a unique restaurant called "Quaker Steak and Lube," followed by donuts and coffee at the "Black Bird Bakery," all recommended to us by granddaughter Bethany.
Today was Trevor's last few hours with us before catching a plane back to Dallas. But first, he took us to a wonderful breakfast at Cracker Barrel, where Howard bought me a beautiful wall plaque of the song, Amazing Grace, with every verse written on the staff. Now, every time I look at it, I will be reminded of our son's sweet visit here!
The next day, Trevor was introduced to the historic district of Jonesborough, the oldest town in Tennessee, where, after a pharmacy visit for Howard, we met up with Julie's family for lunch in our favorite eatery, Main St. Cafe. By then, the sun had come out, perfect for a foray into the mountains, courtesy of our driver, son-in-law Steve.
As always, the scenery was breath-taking the higher we went, wending our way to steep elevations of mountain crags and thick forests, trees standing tall and denuded of leaves except for the evergreens and pines. Back into civilization, sights were pointed out, especially the imposing church where Julie and Steve had served so many years, teaching, preaching and serving the needs of the community.
We were especially excited the next day to introduce Trevor to "The Birthplace of Country Music" in Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia. After spending an impressive few hours in the Smithsonian Affiliate Museum, we had a great lunch at a unique restaurant called "Quaker Steak and Lube," followed by donuts and coffee at the "Black Bird Bakery," all recommended to us by granddaughter Bethany.
Today was Trevor's last few hours with us before catching a plane back to Dallas. But first, he took us to a wonderful breakfast at Cracker Barrel, where Howard bought me a beautiful wall plaque of the song, Amazing Grace, with every verse written on the staff. Now, every time I look at it, I will be reminded of our son's sweet visit here!
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
The Box Saver
Venturing out despite the misty, disagreeable weather yesterday, we were determined to go to the Post Office to mail a birthday present for almost-2-year-old great-grandson, Kaden. The gift of a toy car was a little awkward to get into a box, just tall enough to not fit into any of my selected cardboard array.
Finally, I constructed a container of cut-down shoe boxes with plenty of wide plastic tape, looking like a taped-up accident victim. Seeing the U.S. Mail professional-looking boxes being carried in by others at the P.O. made me wish I had simply bought a box!
By this time, Howard and I were hungry and headed for Burger King. Howard waited at the counter while I got our drinks. The food was good and satisfying on such a dreary day, and the big-screen TV with all the political news got my attention. I glanced up when the manager approached our booth.
"Here," she said, "A man asked me to give this to you." She handed us a gift card for $10! When asked why, she said she didn't know! Later, Howard thought maybe the man overheard or saw him giving a scripture card to an employee, which he said he did while I was getting our tea. Any way, the card was a nice gesture. One never knows who might be paying attention unobserved!
Back to the boxes. I have always been a box-saver, stashing them away for various uses, but since we moved several months ago, nothing as superfluous as collected boxes came along. My husband is a saver: he saves mail, magazines and fliers that come in the mail. But most importantly, as a retired pastor, his main interest is reaching out to people, endeavoring to save souls!
Finally, I constructed a container of cut-down shoe boxes with plenty of wide plastic tape, looking like a taped-up accident victim. Seeing the U.S. Mail professional-looking boxes being carried in by others at the P.O. made me wish I had simply bought a box!
By this time, Howard and I were hungry and headed for Burger King. Howard waited at the counter while I got our drinks. The food was good and satisfying on such a dreary day, and the big-screen TV with all the political news got my attention. I glanced up when the manager approached our booth.
"Here," she said, "A man asked me to give this to you." She handed us a gift card for $10! When asked why, she said she didn't know! Later, Howard thought maybe the man overheard or saw him giving a scripture card to an employee, which he said he did while I was getting our tea. Any way, the card was a nice gesture. One never knows who might be paying attention unobserved!
Back to the boxes. I have always been a box-saver, stashing them away for various uses, but since we moved several months ago, nothing as superfluous as collected boxes came along. My husband is a saver: he saves mail, magazines and fliers that come in the mail. But most importantly, as a retired pastor, his main interest is reaching out to people, endeavoring to save souls!
Saturday, February 8, 2020
Lost!
Jesus was gone. At first, they were not worried, but Mary and Joseph had become increasingly alarmed when their casual inquiries only brought blank looks among their friends and acquaintances. No, they had not seen him. Try Manassa's tribe. A group of youth had been seen straggling behind the caravan, skipping stones into the shallow water standing in ditches along the roadside. Like all the others, though, this lead had resulted in a dead end. And so it had gone all day, as the frantic parents worked their way through the motley crowd of travelers back toward Jerusalem.
What could have happened? Mary agonized in her thoughts. Mentally she berated herself for not checking closer for all the children. Even though her hands were full with the small ones, she should not have assumed for young Jesus's safety. After all, he was only twelve, just recently a tousled tot under her feet like the others. It was only of late, since he had shot up tall in a growth spurt, that she had begun thinking of him as older. And he had been acting older, more mature and responsible. She had entrusted him many times lately for the care of the littler children, especially during the harried preparations for this journey, and he had proved most capable and dependable.
But lost in Jerusalem! There were thieves, child snatchers, and evil men lurking in cities. Even now, he could be sold as a slave and be miles from here. Her thoughts ran away as she thought of the other Joseph who was sold into slavery.
Yes, Jesus was technically a man now, as all Jewish boys who had reached their thirteenth year. But in her heart he was not. The round, childish face of his babyhood was fresh in her memory. This special closeness with her firstborn was a bond partly explained by the mysterious circumstances of his birth. But who could fail to love such a child, miraculous or not? And everyone did, it seemed. He never knew a stranger, and he was welcomed in any house in the village.
Mary loved all her children, each in a different way, but Jesus was uniquely different. They could communicate in ways that even she and Joseph could not. Even though the predictions of the angels, prophets and prophetesses seemed hazy at times, pushed far back in the daily routine of living, they surfaced at times like this. Surely nothing could happen to Jesus in his childhood! He was destined for some kind of greatness in his adult life. Still, clutching Joseph's hand, she forced down the panic rising in her throat as they reached the city and fought their way through the milling throngs.
First, they searched the marketplace. The tantalizing aromas of the food vendors wafted toward them, and they rushed to where a hooded Bedouin sat roasting a lamb over a spit. Jesus would be hungry. Several urchins were nibbling strips of meat they snatched from the fire of the dozing Bedouin. But Jesus was not among them.
Next, they pushed through a crowd of people gathered in a knot where the high, tinkling notes of tambourines, bells and a flute were audible above shouts of laughter and sounds of dancing. Jesus loved music and fun. Maybe he would be there. The inner circle of children watching the comical show was minus the face of Jesus, they realized in disappointment as they scanned the onlookers.
Sobbing by now, Mary cried, "Joseph, we'll never find him. He's lost. We've lost the gift God gave to us and entrusted us to care for. Help us, God!" Joseph wiped her face on his sleeve and held her close, trying to ignore the lump of pain choking him in his throat.
"It's getting late, Mary. We've searched all day. Let's go to the temple to pray. It may be that God will have mercy on us for our carelessness. It's all we have left to do," he finished quietly.
"But I've been praying!" she protested. "Prayers haven't ceased from my lips and heart all day! We can't stop looking!" Despite her protests, Mary was almost relieved to find herself being guided toward the temple by the strong arms of her husband. Thank God for Joseph. He was a tower of strength for her; he always knew what to do, so she relaxed and let some of the tension fall from her as she hung on to Joseph's waist.
Not more people! Mary thought as they entered the temple courts and she caught sight of a mob almost as big as the one outside. She had thought maybe they could find relief from the crowd and a quiet corner to rest and pray in the dim recesses of this hallowed sanctuary. But it must be another sideshow. People had no respect anymore, she noted through her tears as she pushed past crates of doves, bleating lambs and the carts of money changers.
"Mary, this way!" Joseph was pulling her, with a note of hope and excitement in his voice. "Listen! Do you hear that?"
As they pushed through the row of backs, legs, and shoulders, Mary gasped in amazement. Jesus stood there in the center of the crowd in an animated discussion with several priests and dignitaries. His young voice rang out confidently and easily, with not trace of the self-consciousness of a village lad. His manner was friendly, yet respectful, and his face lit up as he caught sight of his mother and father. "My mother! My father!" Jesus exclaimed as he rushed toward them.
"Son, Son, where have you been?" Mary was kissing him and hugging him as she pushed back his hair and examined his face. "We've been so worried about you!"
"Well, when I saw I had been left, I came here," Jesus said. "I knew you would look for me here. Didn't you know I would be about my Father's business?"
Mary lowered her eyes. Of course! How could she get so out of touch with her child? She had been thinking of the natural things--the food, the fun, the interests of a 12-year-old. But Jesus's heart was here. This was his business. This is what he was about, what he would be. Other thoughts began to crowd into her consciousness, vague fears mingled with a glad hope, but Mary pushed them aside.
She could not know of three days not long in the future when Jesus would again be absent from her and the world. She had no way of knowing she would be part of another crowd , searching for Jesus and seeing Him lifted up in shame for all to see, yet looking toward the safety of his mother. She took Jesus' hand, and with heart singing, she led him from the crowd. For now, at least, he was safe. She memorized every detail of his dear features as she watched him and Joseph laugh and talk beside her. Home. That was uppermost in Mary's mind as they headed toward the city gates. Soon they would be home, she thought, as the sun set over Jerusalem.
What could have happened? Mary agonized in her thoughts. Mentally she berated herself for not checking closer for all the children. Even though her hands were full with the small ones, she should not have assumed for young Jesus's safety. After all, he was only twelve, just recently a tousled tot under her feet like the others. It was only of late, since he had shot up tall in a growth spurt, that she had begun thinking of him as older. And he had been acting older, more mature and responsible. She had entrusted him many times lately for the care of the littler children, especially during the harried preparations for this journey, and he had proved most capable and dependable.
But lost in Jerusalem! There were thieves, child snatchers, and evil men lurking in cities. Even now, he could be sold as a slave and be miles from here. Her thoughts ran away as she thought of the other Joseph who was sold into slavery.
Yes, Jesus was technically a man now, as all Jewish boys who had reached their thirteenth year. But in her heart he was not. The round, childish face of his babyhood was fresh in her memory. This special closeness with her firstborn was a bond partly explained by the mysterious circumstances of his birth. But who could fail to love such a child, miraculous or not? And everyone did, it seemed. He never knew a stranger, and he was welcomed in any house in the village.
Mary loved all her children, each in a different way, but Jesus was uniquely different. They could communicate in ways that even she and Joseph could not. Even though the predictions of the angels, prophets and prophetesses seemed hazy at times, pushed far back in the daily routine of living, they surfaced at times like this. Surely nothing could happen to Jesus in his childhood! He was destined for some kind of greatness in his adult life. Still, clutching Joseph's hand, she forced down the panic rising in her throat as they reached the city and fought their way through the milling throngs.
First, they searched the marketplace. The tantalizing aromas of the food vendors wafted toward them, and they rushed to where a hooded Bedouin sat roasting a lamb over a spit. Jesus would be hungry. Several urchins were nibbling strips of meat they snatched from the fire of the dozing Bedouin. But Jesus was not among them.
Next, they pushed through a crowd of people gathered in a knot where the high, tinkling notes of tambourines, bells and a flute were audible above shouts of laughter and sounds of dancing. Jesus loved music and fun. Maybe he would be there. The inner circle of children watching the comical show was minus the face of Jesus, they realized in disappointment as they scanned the onlookers.
Sobbing by now, Mary cried, "Joseph, we'll never find him. He's lost. We've lost the gift God gave to us and entrusted us to care for. Help us, God!" Joseph wiped her face on his sleeve and held her close, trying to ignore the lump of pain choking him in his throat.
"It's getting late, Mary. We've searched all day. Let's go to the temple to pray. It may be that God will have mercy on us for our carelessness. It's all we have left to do," he finished quietly.
"But I've been praying!" she protested. "Prayers haven't ceased from my lips and heart all day! We can't stop looking!" Despite her protests, Mary was almost relieved to find herself being guided toward the temple by the strong arms of her husband. Thank God for Joseph. He was a tower of strength for her; he always knew what to do, so she relaxed and let some of the tension fall from her as she hung on to Joseph's waist.
Not more people! Mary thought as they entered the temple courts and she caught sight of a mob almost as big as the one outside. She had thought maybe they could find relief from the crowd and a quiet corner to rest and pray in the dim recesses of this hallowed sanctuary. But it must be another sideshow. People had no respect anymore, she noted through her tears as she pushed past crates of doves, bleating lambs and the carts of money changers.
"Mary, this way!" Joseph was pulling her, with a note of hope and excitement in his voice. "Listen! Do you hear that?"
As they pushed through the row of backs, legs, and shoulders, Mary gasped in amazement. Jesus stood there in the center of the crowd in an animated discussion with several priests and dignitaries. His young voice rang out confidently and easily, with not trace of the self-consciousness of a village lad. His manner was friendly, yet respectful, and his face lit up as he caught sight of his mother and father. "My mother! My father!" Jesus exclaimed as he rushed toward them.
"Son, Son, where have you been?" Mary was kissing him and hugging him as she pushed back his hair and examined his face. "We've been so worried about you!"
"Well, when I saw I had been left, I came here," Jesus said. "I knew you would look for me here. Didn't you know I would be about my Father's business?"
Mary lowered her eyes. Of course! How could she get so out of touch with her child? She had been thinking of the natural things--the food, the fun, the interests of a 12-year-old. But Jesus's heart was here. This was his business. This is what he was about, what he would be. Other thoughts began to crowd into her consciousness, vague fears mingled with a glad hope, but Mary pushed them aside.
She could not know of three days not long in the future when Jesus would again be absent from her and the world. She had no way of knowing she would be part of another crowd , searching for Jesus and seeing Him lifted up in shame for all to see, yet looking toward the safety of his mother. She took Jesus' hand, and with heart singing, she led him from the crowd. For now, at least, he was safe. She memorized every detail of his dear features as she watched him and Joseph laugh and talk beside her. Home. That was uppermost in Mary's mind as they headed toward the city gates. Soon they would be home, she thought, as the sun set over Jerusalem.
Friday, February 7, 2020
Holy Grounds
Oh, no! Our Keurig quit working! My husband broke the news to me this morning, since he arose early to make coffee. It was a Christmas gift that we had enjoyed only a little over a month! He has gone today to return it and see if the store makes it good. I won't hold my breath, though.
Feeling a little under the weather, I didn't go out into the snow with him to town. Actually, I am making oatmeal cookies to pass the time. We were so surprised to wake up to snow this morning! It is not much, but enough to make my granddaughters unable to exit the store lot due to the car's slipping and sliding.The hero of the family with a 4-wheel drive vehicle went to rescue them!
I noticed on a Facebook post from this date last year that I announced one word: "SNOW!" So history repeats itself! That was in Oklahoma, but now we are in Tennessee. All day, I thought today was Saturday. When my son from Texas called from his car to chat, I asked who was with the children. "They are at school!" he exclaimed. So I won't be going to church tomorrow, after all!
I took a notion recently to share Howard's videos, made over four years ago before he had heart surgery. It was easy enough to pull up the few he made following his recovery, but for some reason, I could not locate the others on the internet! My computer-savvy granddaughter, Mackenzie, searched and searched for them, but to no avail. I was determined to solve the mystery, but giving up in frustration, I let it go.
Then, Eureka! Adam! My grandson in Oklahoma could find them if anyone could! I contacted him, and with a few manipulations of genius, there they were! I couldn't believe it, thinking they were lost for good! Now I am enjoying them again and sharing with those who might not have seen them. In them, Howard plays the guitar, gives scripture, and shares a song. I especially like the ones where he incorporates a story, or a testimony of God's goodness.
As the "producer," and videographer, it was my job to help select the songs, keep his dapper appearance, make sure the words were printed in large letters, and hold the "camera" steady. It was a great combined endeavor that we enjoyed very much. Now I feel like having a cup of coffee when hopefully Howard gets home with a new appliance to enjoy an oatmeal cookie with me!
Feeling a little under the weather, I didn't go out into the snow with him to town. Actually, I am making oatmeal cookies to pass the time. We were so surprised to wake up to snow this morning! It is not much, but enough to make my granddaughters unable to exit the store lot due to the car's slipping and sliding.The hero of the family with a 4-wheel drive vehicle went to rescue them!
I noticed on a Facebook post from this date last year that I announced one word: "SNOW!" So history repeats itself! That was in Oklahoma, but now we are in Tennessee. All day, I thought today was Saturday. When my son from Texas called from his car to chat, I asked who was with the children. "They are at school!" he exclaimed. So I won't be going to church tomorrow, after all!
I took a notion recently to share Howard's videos, made over four years ago before he had heart surgery. It was easy enough to pull up the few he made following his recovery, but for some reason, I could not locate the others on the internet! My computer-savvy granddaughter, Mackenzie, searched and searched for them, but to no avail. I was determined to solve the mystery, but giving up in frustration, I let it go.
Then, Eureka! Adam! My grandson in Oklahoma could find them if anyone could! I contacted him, and with a few manipulations of genius, there they were! I couldn't believe it, thinking they were lost for good! Now I am enjoying them again and sharing with those who might not have seen them. In them, Howard plays the guitar, gives scripture, and shares a song. I especially like the ones where he incorporates a story, or a testimony of God's goodness.
As the "producer," and videographer, it was my job to help select the songs, keep his dapper appearance, make sure the words were printed in large letters, and hold the "camera" steady. It was a great combined endeavor that we enjoyed very much. Now I feel like having a cup of coffee when hopefully Howard gets home with a new appliance to enjoy an oatmeal cookie with me!
Thursday, February 6, 2020
The Visit
We are so excited that our son, Trevor, will be coming to see us soon! He has never been in Tennessee, and we are planning to take him to various places of interest. I know he will love seeing downtown Jonesborough, founded in 1779, in its historic beauty. Our favorite place to eat is there, to which we plan to take him.
He will only be here for part of four days, so not much can be crammed in, but he is definitely looking forward to seeing "The Birthplace of Country Music" in Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia. If possible, we want to take him to see the area where my mother, his beloved grandmother, lived as a child, near Knoxville, TN.
A heart-tugging visit to our ancestors' family cemetery is on the agenda, a captivating wonderment to ponder over the old headstones, names of Great-grandparents and unknown relatives laid to rest there.
The best part of Trevor's visit will no doubt be seeing all his nieces and nephews here, their mates and the cute children, so smart and lovable. Besides all the sight-seeing, I'm sure he will enjoy his mom's home-cooked breakfasts and/or family feasts with everyone.
We just learned that prior to Trevor's visit here, he and wife Jennifer will be in New Orleans this weekend. She will be running in a marathon, and I'm sure there will be time for sight-seeing, since Trevor was born and raised there in his early years. It wouldn't surprise me if he looked up old neighbors from when we lived there.
Our thoughtful son asked if there was anything he could bring his dad from New Orleans, and Howard asked for a bag of Luzianne coffee. I couldn't think of anything, but since it is Mardi Gras time down there, he will probably find a trinket or two for me.
Trevor's dad is determined that we will go into the mountains, to the Cherokee National Forest when he is here. The elevation is 6,000 feet, making your ears pop, but it is very beautiful, so hopefully there will be time for that on our son's whirl-wind visit!
He will only be here for part of four days, so not much can be crammed in, but he is definitely looking forward to seeing "The Birthplace of Country Music" in Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia. If possible, we want to take him to see the area where my mother, his beloved grandmother, lived as a child, near Knoxville, TN.
A heart-tugging visit to our ancestors' family cemetery is on the agenda, a captivating wonderment to ponder over the old headstones, names of Great-grandparents and unknown relatives laid to rest there.
The best part of Trevor's visit will no doubt be seeing all his nieces and nephews here, their mates and the cute children, so smart and lovable. Besides all the sight-seeing, I'm sure he will enjoy his mom's home-cooked breakfasts and/or family feasts with everyone.
We just learned that prior to Trevor's visit here, he and wife Jennifer will be in New Orleans this weekend. She will be running in a marathon, and I'm sure there will be time for sight-seeing, since Trevor was born and raised there in his early years. It wouldn't surprise me if he looked up old neighbors from when we lived there.
Our thoughtful son asked if there was anything he could bring his dad from New Orleans, and Howard asked for a bag of Luzianne coffee. I couldn't think of anything, but since it is Mardi Gras time down there, he will probably find a trinket or two for me.
Trevor's dad is determined that we will go into the mountains, to the Cherokee National Forest when he is here. The elevation is 6,000 feet, making your ears pop, but it is very beautiful, so hopefully there will be time for that on our son's whirl-wind visit!
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Trunk or Treat
What an eventful day! On this rain-free, beautiful mid-day, we set out for town. Howard suggested lunch at one of our favorite, but rarely visited, places in downtown, historic Jonesborough. The food was great, and the walk down from our parking place on the hill was made pleasant by chatting with friendly, talkative folks we met along the way.
Then we headed for the shopping area to buy food, but first I wanted to get my hair cut at a great place in the strip mall. Then a quick exploration of a dress shop I hadn't yet visited since we moved here last summer. In no time I had found a few bargains, then at last we got our groceries.
"Do you want me to put them in the trunk?" I asked my hubby. He said okay, so I placed the considerable number of bags inside, pretty much filling up the trunk space. Then I placed the cart out of the way, and we headed home.
"It sure feels breezy in here," I commented as we drove along with zooming cars along the highway. It was noisy, too. Then I looked back and was shocked to find the wind was coming from an opening in the back! Suddenly I realized that the trunk was wide open! How did I forget to close the trunk? Dear Lord! What were we going to do in this traffic with passengers motioning toward our trunk! Finally we found a place to exit, and thankfully nothing was lost, and the trunk lid was unharmed and quickly closed shut!
I was weak from the ordeal, but my relieved husband insisted on stopping for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. (Maybe he wanted to settle his nerves, too!) All I wanted was some cold water, as I slumped in recovery while he enjoyed his coffee and donut.
As we drove up, our son-in-law, Steve, was in the yard and insisted on helping with the groceries. Thinking of our dilemma and the road, I remembered the scripture, "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Psalm 46. Amen!
Then we headed for the shopping area to buy food, but first I wanted to get my hair cut at a great place in the strip mall. Then a quick exploration of a dress shop I hadn't yet visited since we moved here last summer. In no time I had found a few bargains, then at last we got our groceries.
"Do you want me to put them in the trunk?" I asked my hubby. He said okay, so I placed the considerable number of bags inside, pretty much filling up the trunk space. Then I placed the cart out of the way, and we headed home.
"It sure feels breezy in here," I commented as we drove along with zooming cars along the highway. It was noisy, too. Then I looked back and was shocked to find the wind was coming from an opening in the back! Suddenly I realized that the trunk was wide open! How did I forget to close the trunk? Dear Lord! What were we going to do in this traffic with passengers motioning toward our trunk! Finally we found a place to exit, and thankfully nothing was lost, and the trunk lid was unharmed and quickly closed shut!
I was weak from the ordeal, but my relieved husband insisted on stopping for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. (Maybe he wanted to settle his nerves, too!) All I wanted was some cold water, as I slumped in recovery while he enjoyed his coffee and donut.
As we drove up, our son-in-law, Steve, was in the yard and insisted on helping with the groceries. Thinking of our dilemma and the road, I remembered the scripture, "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Psalm 46. Amen!
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