The trees in the park were irresistible! "Do you want to take a walk?" I asked my husband. We had been out for a lunch break and I didn't feel like going home yet, especially since we ate in the car feasting on Sonic's 50 cent corn-dog special. (They were good!) Howard agreed, and soon we were standing in the midst of autumn's glory.
The magnificent tree that towered over the brick walkway at the entrance to Cann Gardens transported me to some golden cloud of glistening, yellow leaves resting against a backdrop of polished amber that was the shiny, leathery surface of the darker leaves. Today had turned off clear and cool, contrasting with the soft, grey humidity of the past couple of days and the heavy rain of last evening that continued through the night.
An invigorating wind sent multi-colored swirls of dancing leaves around and before us. A benevolent sun welcomed us as we emerged from areas of deep shade, chilly in the shadows of trees as yet unwilling to surrender their bounty to the earth's obliging lap. The maples were an inferno, blazing red at the tops, fed by the flames of orange and yellow leaves below. Every shade of red was evident on leaves and berries of plants like sumac, burning bush, Indian Hawthorne and other unknown bushes.
Yesterday we had driven through older neighborhoods where the best tree viewing was to be had. Gigantic generals of cottonwood proudly held sway in their saffron cloaks worn over uniforms of whitened bark. Japanese maples stood imperialistically aloof in their royal robes of magenta in front of the dignified quarters of their owners. Even the more humble neighborhoods were graced with a glow of color.
"It looks like a giant paint set has been spilled over the entire landscape!" I exclaimed. Then I concluded, "God is surely the Master Painter!" We remarked how we had enjoyed Cann Gardens in every season: the new beauty of spring, the lush beauty of summer, the grandeur of fall, and the stark loveliness of winter. He is a God of all seasons!
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Gospel Gleanings
We have been studying the parables of Jesus in Wednesday night Bible study. It is interesting that many of the same parables are contained in Matthew, Mark and Luke, the synoptic gospels, but John does not repeat them. However, he gives one that is not in the other books, the story of the True Shepherd.
Our pastor remarked that perhaps the reason the other parables were not included in John was that the illustrations explaining the kingdom of God had already been given three times. John's gospel was given much later, the first having been Mark, followed by Matthew and then Luke.
In this parable of the Good Shepherd, Jesus stresses that he is the door of the sheep (John 10:7). Verse 1 says, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber."
I have read that in ancient Israel, makeshift corrals were often constructed in the fields of branches or brambles, or perhaps the sheep were herded into a cave for protection. There was no gate, but the shepherd himself would lie across the opening at night to guard his flock. He became their door.
Jesus said in John 14:6, "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." I heard a story once about some explorers on an expedition through the jungle being led by a guide. At one point, the dense undergrowth obscured the path so badly they could no longer tell where they were going. "How will we get out of here?" they cried, "We can't see the path!" The guide turned to them and said boldly, "I am the path!"
Up to this point, Jesus had concentrated his mission on "the lost sheep of Israel." But in John 10:16, He brings a new element into His teachings when he said, "Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd." He was thinking of us! Just as the sheep knew the shepherd's voice, and he called each one by name, across the centuries He is calling our name, and we can know His voice!
Our pastor remarked that perhaps the reason the other parables were not included in John was that the illustrations explaining the kingdom of God had already been given three times. John's gospel was given much later, the first having been Mark, followed by Matthew and then Luke.
In this parable of the Good Shepherd, Jesus stresses that he is the door of the sheep (John 10:7). Verse 1 says, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber."
I have read that in ancient Israel, makeshift corrals were often constructed in the fields of branches or brambles, or perhaps the sheep were herded into a cave for protection. There was no gate, but the shepherd himself would lie across the opening at night to guard his flock. He became their door.
Jesus said in John 14:6, "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." I heard a story once about some explorers on an expedition through the jungle being led by a guide. At one point, the dense undergrowth obscured the path so badly they could no longer tell where they were going. "How will we get out of here?" they cried, "We can't see the path!" The guide turned to them and said boldly, "I am the path!"
Up to this point, Jesus had concentrated his mission on "the lost sheep of Israel." But in John 10:16, He brings a new element into His teachings when he said, "Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd." He was thinking of us! Just as the sheep knew the shepherd's voice, and he called each one by name, across the centuries He is calling our name, and we can know His voice!
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Fill My Cup, Lord
Putting away my clean dishes the other morning, I couldn't help but notice how many there were. There were the large dinner plates I had used last night to hold our fish supper from Howard's catch at the pond. I had wanted room for the salad and baked potato with the crispy pan fish. (Thank you, God, for your provision, and this bonus free meal!)
Then there were the snack bowls from the after-school treats for the grandchildren: popcorn (a big one for Pa Pa, too), and the requisite noodle bowl for the first-grader. Grandchildren are a blessing!
I had to put away several glasses, sparkling clean after use for water, tea and milk. Two glass pitchers were there, too, one for my sweet tea and one for the unsweet my husband likes. Our thirst has to be quenched, just as our spiritual thirst is satisfied by the Water of Life.
Look at all these utensils! I thought, as I picked up a shiny ladle (from the pot of beans I had made for lunch), a large serving spoon (from taste-testing the beans as they cooked), knives from slicing tomatoes and red onions and cutting the cornbread, let alone the various silverware. What would I do without these kitchen tools? II Peter 1:3 says He has given us all things that pertain to life and godliness.
There were the small, plastic mixing bowl and the wooden spoon I had used for the cornbread. How good it tasted with butter from the butter dish I found in the drainer. (He fills our mouth with good things.)
Then there were the pots and pans, even an oatmeal pan I had soaked. Oatmeal is our favorite breakfast, enjoyed almost every morning at our red, drop-leaf table in the kitchen (or at our wicker table on the front porch, weather permitting.) Our bowl of oats is usually topped by strawberries and/or blue berries and bananas, with raisin toast and crisp, turkey bacon. After breakfast, Howard usually retreats to the front porch with his Bible and I to my corner to gain sustenance from the Bread of Life.
Putting away the last item, I surveyed the clean counter before I got out the eggs and skillet to start the new day, reminding myself that "This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!"
Then there were the snack bowls from the after-school treats for the grandchildren: popcorn (a big one for Pa Pa, too), and the requisite noodle bowl for the first-grader. Grandchildren are a blessing!
I had to put away several glasses, sparkling clean after use for water, tea and milk. Two glass pitchers were there, too, one for my sweet tea and one for the unsweet my husband likes. Our thirst has to be quenched, just as our spiritual thirst is satisfied by the Water of Life.
Look at all these utensils! I thought, as I picked up a shiny ladle (from the pot of beans I had made for lunch), a large serving spoon (from taste-testing the beans as they cooked), knives from slicing tomatoes and red onions and cutting the cornbread, let alone the various silverware. What would I do without these kitchen tools? II Peter 1:3 says He has given us all things that pertain to life and godliness.
There were the small, plastic mixing bowl and the wooden spoon I had used for the cornbread. How good it tasted with butter from the butter dish I found in the drainer. (He fills our mouth with good things.)
Then there were the pots and pans, even an oatmeal pan I had soaked. Oatmeal is our favorite breakfast, enjoyed almost every morning at our red, drop-leaf table in the kitchen (or at our wicker table on the front porch, weather permitting.) Our bowl of oats is usually topped by strawberries and/or blue berries and bananas, with raisin toast and crisp, turkey bacon. After breakfast, Howard usually retreats to the front porch with his Bible and I to my corner to gain sustenance from the Bread of Life.
Putting away the last item, I surveyed the clean counter before I got out the eggs and skillet to start the new day, reminding myself that "This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!"
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Send the Light
Today our pastor's sermon title was "Selflessness," taken from II Corinthians 4, pointing out that as, in verse 1, we all have a ministry. It is not just for those who stand in the pulpit or hold some official position. He stressed that we are to share ourselves and Jesus in us with others, which is what we are called to do.
"What good is it having something if you can't share it with someone?" he questioned, giving the example of his new watch that he admired so much, wanting to show it to someone who would share his joy in having it. After a short while he took the watch for granted and the novelty of having it had worn off, but the experience of sharing it would last.
For instance, he told of something that had happened the day before as he sat in a restaurant with friends. Several older teens occupied a nearby booth, and suddenly, as if on cue, they all bolted for the door and made a speedy exit. They had left without paying the hefty tab they had run up. All the diners noticed it, and in their amazement, they began to talk with each other; people they didn't know suddenly became a community of shared experience.
Yesterday after failing to find any good garage sales around town, we headed to Blackwell, a few miles away, for an estate sale. We didn't expect much, since it was past noon by then, and sure enough, there was a bare minimum of items on display: mostly trinkets, odd dishes, ribbons and stationery from an elderly woman's home.
The house itself was interesting, though, with a collector's quality kitchen range and a general feel of history about it. The charming, genteel, octogenarian who lived there, sparkling with personality in her turquoise, harlequin-framed glasses, in conversation dropped a tidbit of interest grabbed by my husband, and they were off and running. They knew many of the same people, names of businesses of old, and enough local trivia to keep Howard engaged the whole time I was shopping. We left feeling as if we had known her for years! The sale wasn't much, but the experience was priceless!
Our desire to share reminds me of Facebook. Almost no detail of our lives, whether trivial or serious, is exempt from sharing with our "friends." Pictures of babies, beauties, scholars or sports events are worthy of praise and comment. People must share!
Paul was teaching us to share our faith! Verse 6 says, "For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shown in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." This is the best news of all to share!
"What good is it having something if you can't share it with someone?" he questioned, giving the example of his new watch that he admired so much, wanting to show it to someone who would share his joy in having it. After a short while he took the watch for granted and the novelty of having it had worn off, but the experience of sharing it would last.
For instance, he told of something that had happened the day before as he sat in a restaurant with friends. Several older teens occupied a nearby booth, and suddenly, as if on cue, they all bolted for the door and made a speedy exit. They had left without paying the hefty tab they had run up. All the diners noticed it, and in their amazement, they began to talk with each other; people they didn't know suddenly became a community of shared experience.
Yesterday after failing to find any good garage sales around town, we headed to Blackwell, a few miles away, for an estate sale. We didn't expect much, since it was past noon by then, and sure enough, there was a bare minimum of items on display: mostly trinkets, odd dishes, ribbons and stationery from an elderly woman's home.
The house itself was interesting, though, with a collector's quality kitchen range and a general feel of history about it. The charming, genteel, octogenarian who lived there, sparkling with personality in her turquoise, harlequin-framed glasses, in conversation dropped a tidbit of interest grabbed by my husband, and they were off and running. They knew many of the same people, names of businesses of old, and enough local trivia to keep Howard engaged the whole time I was shopping. We left feeling as if we had known her for years! The sale wasn't much, but the experience was priceless!
Our desire to share reminds me of Facebook. Almost no detail of our lives, whether trivial or serious, is exempt from sharing with our "friends." Pictures of babies, beauties, scholars or sports events are worthy of praise and comment. People must share!
Paul was teaching us to share our faith! Verse 6 says, "For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shown in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." This is the best news of all to share!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Excursion
"Do you want a sandwich lunch, or something more like home cooking?" our grandson, Chase, asked Howard and me. We were in Tulsa meeting his parents, our son Mark and wife Rhonda, while they were up from Texas to visit him, and we were all going to lunch. Just then we passed a low, brick building and our cafe-savvy grandson said, "That place is not fancy, but their food is incredible!" He checked with his Pa Pa, who said that sounded good to him.
On the way to the powder room while the others were finishing their hardy selections, I heard the twang of guitars and the unmistakable sound of blue grass music coming from a side dining room. I looked to see a dozen or so country-style musicians sitting in a semi-circle playing guitars, banjos and even a woman playing a bass violin as someone was singing a plaintive tune. I wasted no time in telling my husband about it, since that kind of music is one of his passions. The men-folk all headed to the room, and even though they had started to pack up their instruments, the friendly group gave their appreciative listeners a mini-concert. The restaurant was definitely the right choice!
When Chase came back to the table, he started to tell me something funny at his mother's suggestion, and then said, "Just let me read you the text." It seems his landlord, who lives next door to him had written, "I saw someone in your yard, and he said, 'Hi! I'm Chase's dad.' I said, 'Oh, sure you are,' not believing him. He said, 'Yes, Chase is my son!' I shook my head and walked away, but then I thought, maybe it really is Chase's father! He just didn't look that old! I think maybe I owe your dad an apology!"
Apology! I call that a compliment, although Mark laughed it off. With his spare frame and youthful appearance, people routinely think him 35 or 40, when he is 54! We were having such a good time with them, especially since we were going to get the chance to see Chase's house he moved into about a year ago. The cozy cottage in a settled, older neighborhood was charming with its beaded wainscoting, white moulding and woodwork, and tasteful furnishings. It was as neat as a pin in its uncluttered masculine decor.
We really got a feel for the environment of our young engineer by seeing his college from which he graduated with honors four years ago, his old dorm and fraternity house and the lovely buildings on campus. Then he took us to his office in a beautiful professional building surrounded by tall trees showering the walkways with autumn leaves. The view was especially lovely from the plate glass window behind his desk. We are so proud of him, and thank the Lord for the man he has become and for the godly parents who raised him!
"Behold, children are an heritage from the Lord," Psalm 127:3. "Behold, thus shall the man be blessed Who fears the Lord...Yes, may you see your children's children," Psalm 128:4,6.
On the way to the powder room while the others were finishing their hardy selections, I heard the twang of guitars and the unmistakable sound of blue grass music coming from a side dining room. I looked to see a dozen or so country-style musicians sitting in a semi-circle playing guitars, banjos and even a woman playing a bass violin as someone was singing a plaintive tune. I wasted no time in telling my husband about it, since that kind of music is one of his passions. The men-folk all headed to the room, and even though they had started to pack up their instruments, the friendly group gave their appreciative listeners a mini-concert. The restaurant was definitely the right choice!
When Chase came back to the table, he started to tell me something funny at his mother's suggestion, and then said, "Just let me read you the text." It seems his landlord, who lives next door to him had written, "I saw someone in your yard, and he said, 'Hi! I'm Chase's dad.' I said, 'Oh, sure you are,' not believing him. He said, 'Yes, Chase is my son!' I shook my head and walked away, but then I thought, maybe it really is Chase's father! He just didn't look that old! I think maybe I owe your dad an apology!"
Apology! I call that a compliment, although Mark laughed it off. With his spare frame and youthful appearance, people routinely think him 35 or 40, when he is 54! We were having such a good time with them, especially since we were going to get the chance to see Chase's house he moved into about a year ago. The cozy cottage in a settled, older neighborhood was charming with its beaded wainscoting, white moulding and woodwork, and tasteful furnishings. It was as neat as a pin in its uncluttered masculine decor.
We really got a feel for the environment of our young engineer by seeing his college from which he graduated with honors four years ago, his old dorm and fraternity house and the lovely buildings on campus. Then he took us to his office in a beautiful professional building surrounded by tall trees showering the walkways with autumn leaves. The view was especially lovely from the plate glass window behind his desk. We are so proud of him, and thank the Lord for the man he has become and for the godly parents who raised him!
"Behold, children are an heritage from the Lord," Psalm 127:3. "Behold, thus shall the man be blessed Who fears the Lord...Yes, may you see your children's children," Psalm 128:4,6.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Appointment
"I may be in there for a little while," our son Greg said when his name was called in the doctor's office. "There's a snack bar on the first floor if you get hungry." He had asked if we wanted to go along to the city for his appointment, saying we might find something interesting to do later on.
We descended to the first floor of the bone and joint medical center and saw only doors to the parking garage. While Howard was inquiring of people getting on and off the elevator whether there was a snack bar down here, all of whom seemed clueless, I peered around a door opening to see a couple of vending machines holding drinks and snacks. Our snack bar! We perched on couches in a reception area and ate our snacks. "He may be back by now," my husband said after a while, "let's go back up."
He pushed the elevator button for the 3rd floor, and we stepped out into unfamiliar surroundings. We must have looked puzzled, for the receptionist asked, "May I help you?" I told her we didn't know where we were, explaining we were here at the doctor with our son. "What is the doctor's name?" she asked. We didn't know. She asked our son's name and started to enter it into her computer, when I told her he was being treated for arthritis. "Oh, all our arthritis patients are on the second floor!" she exclaimed. Feeling foolish, we remembered that, although we had had to park on the 3rd level, we'd gone down to the second floor to the doctor's office.
It seemed this morning was full of the unexpected. Our original plan was to follow the doctor visit with lunch, possibly at Bricktown, then go to a banjo museum the guys had been wanting to see. Instead, since we were close to the Capitol building, my husband and son decided to look up info on the Cherokee Strip Land Run at the History Center in the Capitol Complex.
This proved most interesting when we found material on Howard's grandfather's claim from that time. The helpful attendant produced documents including a copy of the "patent" to his land. He explained that a patent was the certificate showing the original owner of a tract of land. Any successive owners would hold a deed.
I loved the look of the certificate with its formal "whereas," "whereby," and "duly consummated," words and phrases in printed script, and the handwritten, lovely penmanship that filled in the blanks. Especially profound were the parts that read, "To secure homesteads to actual settlers," and "To have and to hold...said tract...to (his grandfather) and to his heirs and assigns forever," signed by Theodore Roosevelt.
We had lunch in the Winnie Mae Cafe, a restaurant in the top of the Oklahoma Historical Center named after the airplane of Wiley Post, a replica of which filled the atrium of the soaring structure. Our ride home was uneventful, Howard's nostalgic reminiscences from the front seat being interrupted only once by a phone call. He had paid a compliment to McDonald's a few days ago, and they were calling to say gift coupons of appreciation were in the mail.
What a nice, unexpected ending to our day! Even though Grandpa George's heirs sold the homestead land, even nicer will be the expected ending of our earthly journey, when our Father brings us to our heavenly home secured for us forever, as heirs and joint heirs with Jesus Christ! (Romans 8:17)
We had lunch in the Winnie Mae Cafe, a restaurant in the top of the Oklahoma Historical Center named after the airplane of Wiley Post, a replica of which filled the atrium of the soaring structure. Our ride home was uneventful, Howard's nostalgic reminiscences from the front seat being interrupted only once by a phone call. He had paid a compliment to McDonald's a few days ago, and they were calling to say gift coupons of appreciation were in the mail.
What a nice, unexpected ending to our day! Even though Grandpa George's heirs sold the homestead land, even nicer will be the expected ending of our earthly journey, when our Father brings us to our heavenly home secured for us forever, as heirs and joint heirs with Jesus Christ! (Romans 8:17)
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Serendipity: Happy Accident or Pleasant Surprise
"Where do you think that road is?" I asked my husband. Our GPS wouldn't pick up the address to a garage sale we were looking for. "Do you think you just go straight where the highway curves?" He said he believed we should stay on the highway and find it from there. After we had driven almost to the Kansas line (not really that far), he decided to go back to the old road. Sure enough, there it was, just beyond the curve.
We had picked out two sales from the newspaper but noticed one that wasn't advertised. We stopped and found a veritable shoppers' paradise! Well, everything I liked, but didn't need. A great wall-decor-photo frame still in the original wrapper that I had seen in Cracker Barrel for more than I wanted to pay, but a steal here!
"Look at that mirror!" I exclaimed over a curvy wood-framed glass with decorative holes in the frame. A bargain at $3! Several more items to my liking that I later found just the right place for at home sent me on my way in contentment. Now we were searching for the sale that advertised fishing gear for my husband's new passion.
"Is this the place that has fishing equipment?" Howard asked a man standing in front of a metal building. The grinning oldster waiting in front nodded and motioned us in. What a treasure trove! This man was evidently a collector! The cavernous space was jam-packed with neatly organized fishing paraphernalia--everything from cane poles, fishing rods, and cabinets full of reels to displays and selections of hooks, sinkers, and lines, all accompanied by folksy tales from the proprietor. Turns out he knew Howard's cousins and families from the area that we had lost touch with years ago!
My husband even persuaded me to go fishing with him later that day and again yesterday! I at first said I would sit in the truck and read my book, but I finally ventured down and found a seat on the edge of our son's kayak where he had pulled it ashore. Soon Howard was handing me things to hold while he re-baited his hook or put his catch on a stringer, and I didn't see how he how got along without me! And I realized it was (almost) fun!
Being out in God's creation in the gorgeous weather made it all worthwhile. There is something about the country that is so peaceful and nostalgic, taking me back to my childhood when we nearly always lived in the country. The sparkling water, the floating white clouds in the impossibly blue sky, the wind rustling the dried reeds and grasses and the flash of gold and green as my fisherman pulled colorful fish through the water made me realize the benefits of fishing were not just the fish! No wonder he liked it! And I am sure the fish will be delicious!
We had picked out two sales from the newspaper but noticed one that wasn't advertised. We stopped and found a veritable shoppers' paradise! Well, everything I liked, but didn't need. A great wall-decor-photo frame still in the original wrapper that I had seen in Cracker Barrel for more than I wanted to pay, but a steal here!
"Look at that mirror!" I exclaimed over a curvy wood-framed glass with decorative holes in the frame. A bargain at $3! Several more items to my liking that I later found just the right place for at home sent me on my way in contentment. Now we were searching for the sale that advertised fishing gear for my husband's new passion.
"Is this the place that has fishing equipment?" Howard asked a man standing in front of a metal building. The grinning oldster waiting in front nodded and motioned us in. What a treasure trove! This man was evidently a collector! The cavernous space was jam-packed with neatly organized fishing paraphernalia--everything from cane poles, fishing rods, and cabinets full of reels to displays and selections of hooks, sinkers, and lines, all accompanied by folksy tales from the proprietor. Turns out he knew Howard's cousins and families from the area that we had lost touch with years ago!
My husband even persuaded me to go fishing with him later that day and again yesterday! I at first said I would sit in the truck and read my book, but I finally ventured down and found a seat on the edge of our son's kayak where he had pulled it ashore. Soon Howard was handing me things to hold while he re-baited his hook or put his catch on a stringer, and I didn't see how he how got along without me! And I realized it was (almost) fun!
Being out in God's creation in the gorgeous weather made it all worthwhile. There is something about the country that is so peaceful and nostalgic, taking me back to my childhood when we nearly always lived in the country. The sparkling water, the floating white clouds in the impossibly blue sky, the wind rustling the dried reeds and grasses and the flash of gold and green as my fisherman pulled colorful fish through the water made me realize the benefits of fishing were not just the fish! No wonder he liked it! And I am sure the fish will be delicious!
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