Old Sol

Aah! Breakfast on the screened front porch!  Such a daily treat for us when the weather is nice.  There is only one problem: the sun.  We love the sunshine, but due to the rising sun's position right now, it shines right in the face of whoever is at the end of the table.

I'd been wanting to get an additional blind to place beside the one that covers part of the porch. I brought it up today after our morning walk in the nearby botanical garden.  "Let's go to Lowe's and look at their porch blinds," I suggested impulsively.

Howard agreed, and soon we were strolling the aisle of the home store.  "Can you tell me where we could find a shade for our porch?" my husband asked a couple of young cashiers standing together in the aisle in front of their registers.

"Oh, you have to go to Lawn and Garden for that," one said, as the other nodded her head.  I thanked her for telling us that and said it was a good thing we asked, as we turned around and retraced our steps toward the garden shop outside.

A red-vested clerk approached us eagerly asking if she could help us.  We told her what we were looking for, and she said, "Oh, you have to go inside the store for that!"  and instructed us which aisle to go to. We said we had just got back from there, and were told to come here.  "Oh, they do that every time!" she said impatiently, "Come on, I'll take you there.  Who told you that?"

"Well, I don't want to incriminate anybody," I hesitated, but she assured me she just wanted them to know where they were.  After we were pointed to the right place, we were faced with a selection of bamboo blinds to choose from.  "I think that's the one we want," I said, after seeing an attractive, woven one that looked the right size.  We hadn't brought measurements.

"No, that's not big enough!" Howard stated, but I insisted it was.  After some back-and-forth he suggested we go home and measure.  We had gotten outside when we decided to go back in and buy it, then return it if it didn't fit, which I was sure it would.

Turned out he was right, but we decided to keep it nevertheless.  It was big enough for our purposes and fit just fine next to the other shade, leaving an unshaded space at the opposite end, which was partially shaded by a shrub, anyway.

All that was child's play compared to the actual hanging of the blind.  Hardware was included, but the project still  required my going to the garage for the drill, collecting hammer from the kitchen drawer, going back for longer screws (which turned out to be nails) when the ones provided were unsatisfactory, and getting the step-ladder from the kitchen.

After laboriously getting it into place, we discovered that the cord was hidden behind the blind, for we had put it up backwards. Once that was righted, we stood back to admire our handiwork, then put things back in place and collapsed for a rest.

Coming in from a drive later, I could see an ugly, orange safety tag on the back of the blind showing through the screen  from the driveway, and another orange strip at the bottom.  I lost no time in removing them, and now I can't wait for the sun to come up in the morning when we'll be able to eat in comfort, and the only orange will be the veiled sun and the juice in the bottle!

Good Morning!

I love pineapple, but whenever I buy one it seems to last a long time.  I took some from a storage container in the fridge yesterday and decided to use it up by making a pineapple upside down cake.  I didn't have a recipe, so I got out a box of baking mix and improvised.

Dumping a couple cups into a bowl, I added some sugar, oil, eggs, milk and vanilla, and turned on the mixer. It seemed a little thick and lumpy, then I remembered the key ingredient: Pineapple juice.  I had just enough, making the batter the right consistency this time.

Knowing it wouldn't be a huge cake, I decided on an oval, oven-proof glass pan which I stuck in the microwave to melt butter for the topping.  After I added brown sugar and the pineapple chunks I had sliced up, I poured the batter over the mixture.  The cake rose up and browned beautifully in the oven.  Now what to put it on when I took it out?  The shape wouldn't fit on a regular cake plate.

My favorite oval platter worked perfectly. Turning it upside down on the platter revealed the golden brown topping embedded with the pineapple bits.  It looked luscious, but the proof would be in the tasting. It was delicious!  Light and golden and moist!

After it had cooled and we had had a couple of  pieces, I started to cover the cake with foil.  That might stick, though, I thought.  The clear, glass pan I had baked it in might work, turned upside down.  I washed and dried it, and of course, it fit perfectly as a cover! The cake glowed jewel-like through the glass, surrounded by the worn, gold-edged curves of the old platter.

We are still enjoying my creation as coffee-cake this morning!  Breakfast on the front porch was inviting once again with gorgeous sunshine after days of leaden skies.  Somehow the colorful wicker furniture, the flowers and  the bright cushions all take on a new glow in the clear, yellow light, imparting a feeling of happiness and cheer.  Maybe it's the pineapple!  After all, it is a symbol of friendship and hospitality!

The Right Tools

Ooh, these weeds are tough! I thought as I pulled and chopped them in the garden today.  "I need some gardening gloves!" I said to myself, looking at my dirty, bare hands.  "Wait!" I exclaimed out loud, "Didn't I just buy some new garden gloves?"  I had forgotten all about it, but now I remembered my purchase: a birthday card, the gloves and a couple pair of reading glasses. The birthday card had been mailed, and I'd been using the glasses, but what did I do with the gloves?

I looked for them when we got home, and sure enough, there they were on a chair in the corner with a pack of utility knives Howard had bought.  Thankfully they weren't thrown out with the bag, as has happened to other missing small items before!

It was my first stint at weeding our slow-growing garden.  The hard, dry soil resulting from drought-like conditions had kept everything struggling but the weeds.  Now the hard rains of the past couple of days were making them flourish. At  least the soil was soft and most weren't hard to pull up, but some were stubborn with well-established roots.

Having the right equipment is a big help in gardening.  We had to retrace our steps to find our hoe where we had  last left it, and when I rounded up another hoe and some rakes, the going was much easier.  Being unprepared in gardening without the right tools and my battle with the weeds reminded me of spiritual battles we face in the Christian life.

Like the weeds, a bad habit, broken relationship, or sin is best dealt with as soon as possible,  before it grows and gets out of control.  It is relatively easy to pull up a weed when it is small, but when that root grows deep, it puts up a lot of resistance.

Sometimes I resorted to chopping the weeds down.  Things looked better on the surface since I couldn't see the weed anymore.  But I had to admit that was a superficial remedy, because I knew they would just grow back, for the root was still there. The Bible talks about a root of bitterness.

Hebrews 12:15 says, "Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled." Rather, may our situation be as Ephesians 3:17 says, "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love."

Just as we need the proper equipment when fighting weeds, we are told in Ephesians 6:11, "Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil."  Verses 13-17 lists these vital articles of protection: Belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shoes of the gospel of peace, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, and sword of the spirit, or the word of God.

These equip us for our battle of prayer, for verse 18 admonishes us, "Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit."  Let's not misplace or forget our "gardening gloves," or forget to read the Bible and pray, but be properly equipped for battle!

Covering

"Oh, no! I forgot my Bible," I said, looking down on my lap in the car.  "And I had it laid out to bring!" I lamented. We were on the way to church, hurrying to get to a 9:00 o'clock Sunday School class.  Oh well, I thought, Pastor has the scriptures on the screen, anyway.  But I knew I would need it in class.

Just then I heard a scraping noise, like ice or snow sliding off our car, but this was a warm, May morning. I had heard that sound once before, when I had left my purse on top of the car. Then an unwelcome thought surfaced.  In my haste, was it was possible I had put my Bible there when opening the car door?

"Turn around and go back to see!" I implored my husband.  There was no traffic on the lightly-traveled street, so he backed up slowly.  All I could see after backing several yards was a discarded water bottle. "Did you leave a bottle of water on top of the car?" I asked Howard.  He hadn't, so I urged him to go back a little farther.

Then I spied something black lying in the gutter.  "I think I see it!" I burst out. A minute later, I scooped up my Bible!  Thankfully, it had a cover on it and wasn't damaged at all.  I cringed to think what it would have looked like unprotected by the heavy material--cover probably ripped off and pages tattered and blowing in the wind.

"Well, I guess we were covered by the Word," I quipped, about riding along with the Bible on the roof.  But I got to thinking of how the Lord protects us.  We often pray for a covering of angels when we set out for a trip, not only for us, but for loved ones who may be traveling. "He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways," we might quote from Psalm 91:11.

Not that we all don't encounter some bumps and bruises in life, but David writes encouraging words for the believer as contrasted with the wicked in Psalm  37.  He writes in verse 23, "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he delighteth in his way. (24), Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand."

I have heard that preached to mean if we make mistakes in life and fall, we should not be discouraged and depressed forever, knowing that the Lord holds us up.  I also believe it could mean physical protection.

We had a friend in Mississippi who had a motorcycle.  One beautiful morning he was going out the door to take a ride and reached for a light jacket.  For some reason he selected a heavy, leather coat, even though it was summer. A few miles down the country road he hit a patch of gravel, lost control and wrecked the bike. He would have been severely scraped and scratched up if he had not been wearing the heavy coat, but he had no serious injuries!  God had him covered!

Sentimental Journey

Ever since we came here almost eight years ago after living in the Deep South for 40 years, I have wanted to go to the town just a couple hours away where I lived until age 10.  That was a long time ago, and since I didn't remember specific directions to places from back then, my husband was always reluctant to take me. Yesterday I finally got to go there.

To say things had changed is putting it mildly! The old downtown looked pretty much the same as I remembered it, but of course the names had changed on the plate glass windows of all the buildings that were familiar.  I immediately spotted a former drugstore where my city cousin I was visiting had taken my 13-year-old self for lunch.  I remember feeling so sophisticated as I ordered a ham-salad sandwich and a coke, as per her instructions. We had ice cream, too, and the combination of ice cream served alongside a curvy, coca-cola glass of ice water was a novel sensation for my country-girl palate.

I knew my school where I had attended for a year in "town school" was at the end of the street, and I strained my eyes for the low brick building, expecting it to be somewhat changed since fourth grade.  I couldn't believe my eyes!  It was if a whole city had landed from outer space!  An educational complex of a high school, sports arena and various buildings seemed to have exploded on the scene, enclosed in high fences and expanded and enlarged beyond my imagination.  A lot can happen in 65 years!

The familiar road continued toward the intersection where I remembered turning off into the country to the community where I was raised.  Guess what!  No connecting road on that side of the highway!  We took the one on the other side, which I knew was not right.  Finally we stopped at a little store for directions.  The cashier had never heard of the place we mentioned.  A friendly soft-drink delivery man seemed approachable, and I asked his name, thinking he might be local.  Turns out his relatives are from the town where we presently live! As newly-weds, we had known his grandparents, and they were part of the church we now attend!  Small world!

We found out the name of the road we were looking for was now named 91st street.  We followed that road until it led only to a lake!  Had our community been submerged in a lake?  Getting hungry by this time, we headed for a larger metro close by, had lunch and visited a mall.  We would come back again, this time bolstered with research, which I began when we got home.  The internet revealed the community, called "a populated place," does exist, we had just taken the wrong road.

The Road Not Taken, the poem by Robert Frost, ends with "and that has made all of the difference."  Next time, we'll take a map, and make a difference of our own!

Jonah and the Whale, or Howard and the Whale Bone

Pondering what to have for supper last night, I was considering options with my husband.  Then I said, "Or I could fry those fish in the freezer."  Howard was enthusiastic.  He'd been looking forward to eating the latest catch from the farm pond.  Our friend had caught them the other day, and since he'd rather catch than clean, he gave them to Howard, who rather enjoys cleaning fish.

They were delicious.  I especially liked the tasty little bream, although I found the bones a bit troublesome. Howard ate eagerly and after supper offered to do the dishes, which he did get around to eventually.  By this time I was lying down.  At one point he came into the room shaking the water from his hands and startled me by saying, "I have a fish bone stuck in my throat!"

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed.  "Do you think you should go to the ER?"  He said he would wait and try to cough it up.  A while later, he said it wasn't bothering him anymore, so I stopped worrying about it and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Howard got up and went into the kitchen, taking his Bible, a normal pattern for him in praying and studying the Word.  This morning he said, "Thelma, the most amazing miracle happened in the kitchen last night!"  I couldn't wait to hear it, thinking he would say he felt the presence of God in a strong way, something that happens to him quite often.

"That bone in my throat was really hurting," he said, pointing to the side of his neck.  I hadn't realized it was that deep!  "I was reading the Bible in Hosea 6:1, where it says, 'Come, and let us return unto the Lord: for he hath torn, and he will heal us; he hath smitten and he will bind us up'" he went on.  "And then in James, where it says the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise him up," he continued.

"Suddenly," Howard exclaimed, "I felt something on my tongue!  I reached in and pulled the bone out!"  He was exultant, and so was I!  Praise the Lord!  "It was a miracle!" he said in awe, "Like the time the rock flew out of Michaela's ear, or the time the angel caught Caleb falling out of a tree!"

Yes, I remembered the oft-told story of when our 4-year-old granddaughter was complaining of her ear, and her mother discovered she had put a rock in it.  No amount of trying would remove it, although Julie could hear the ping when she touched it with the tweezers.  Her husband Steve laid his hand on her ear  and prayed, claiming the scripture in Mark 11:23, "That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the  sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that  those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatever he saith."  Suddenly he felt something hit his palm, and knew it was gone, as affirmed by the doctor at the ER.

6-year-old Caleb lost his footing on the limb of tree in their front yard and was falling to the ground, when he stopped in mid-air, then was lowered gently to safety.  His brother, Joshua, witnessed it, saying wonderingly, "Caleb, were you flying?"  They rushed in where Caleb told Julie, "Mom, I fell out of the tree, but God caught me!"

I'm glad God is still in the miracle-working business!

Missing!

"Have you seen my hat?" Howard asked repeatedly over the last few weeks of gusty, Oklahoma winds. I had looked high and low, but his favorite light-weight, golfer-style hat was nowhere to be found.  My handsome husband resorted to borrowing my comb and smoothing his still-black hair in his reflection of a plate glass window of whatever public place we were entering.

"Why don't you use hairspray!" I suggest helpfully, but he doesn't like using it. His fine, wash-and-blow-dry hair is in disarray the minute we step out the door, and he can't stand to have a hair out of place.  Oh, for the days of "Wild Root Cream Oil," or the red-colored, oily stuff  favored by him and my brothers when we were teenagers!

"I'm beginning to think you left your hat somewhere," I conclude after another fruitless search.  I think of the time when we had gone through this scenario a few years ago, and one day I received an e-mail from our son we had recently visited in Houston.  He had attached a photo, and there stood our four-year-old granddaughter wearing Pa-Pa's hat with the caption, "Did you forget something?"  No wonder I couldn't find it!  It was 500 miles away!

More recently, some friends from Mississippi where we used to live were passing through town on the way to Kansas.  We hadn't seen them in five or six years, so when they called and suggested we meet them at a local restaurant, we were thrilled.  I recognized the couple immediately through the restaurant window when I saw the man in his signature golfer's hat.  The first thing I said was, "Howard used to have a hat like that!" about the same time our friend said to my husband, "Here's your hat you left at our house five years ago!"

Monday night at the conclusion of our Bible study at the home of friends when one of the men got up to leave, I heard him say to the hostess, "I didn't leave my hat here last week, did I?  I can't find it anywhere!" to which she replied, "No, the only one here is Howard's hat he left a couple of weeks ago."

My ears perked up!  Unaware that Howard was engrossed in a private prayer with the leader, I exclaimed from across the room, "Howard, they found your hat!" He didn't hear me, but a mental picture flashed through my mind of my having him hang his hat on their hall tree when we came in last time we were there.

You would have thought it was Christmas morning by the look of glad surprise on Howard's face when he looked up.  "My hat!" he blurted, "You found my hat!"

Jesus talks about the joy of the lost being found in several Bible stories.  The woman who had lost a coin swept her house clean until she found it, when she was so glad she had to go tell all her neighbors.  The shepherd with the lost sheep left the ninety-and-nine to search for and find the missing one he loved so dearly.  The prodigal son was lost in sin, but the joy his father felt when he returned knew no bounds.  Jesus said the angels in heaven rejoice for a lost sinner who repents.

Jesus is concerned about our lost items and what concerns us, but mostly, He is concerned that we make heaven, where our joy will be complete!