Shoes

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Our church is doing a shoe drive this fall.  People are encouraged to go through their closets and bring in the shoes they no longer wear.  They will be donated to an organization that distributes the shoes to people all over the world who have none.  It’s a fairly easy thing to do; it doesn’t take much time and doesn’t cost any money.  But to be honest, the process made me a little sick, and it wasn’t  from the smell of my son’s pile of cast-off athletic footwear.  Just look at that – nine pairs of shoes.  (There were ten pairs, but my husband nabbed one.  Now we have to go through his closet.)

While someone is walking around shoe-less, I am sitting on ten pairs.  It’s a humbling thought…it’s a sobering truth.  It’s not fair.

In light of all this, I had to chuckle when I read about the Israelites’ shoe situation during their 40 years in the desert.  Moses reminded the people: “During the forty years that I led you through the desert, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.”   Forty years.  Same pair of shoes.  Forty years.  Same stinkin’ pair of sandals.  Darn things just wouldn’t wear out.  That would be like me still wearing the same PF Flyers I had when I was 10, every day for four decades. 

So it seems God can even put life into an old pair of sandals.  That thought just makes me smile.  May these nine pair of shoes fit the feet of someone, somewhere.  (They will have to be size 15.)  May I be content with a smaller pile in my closet.  May my Nikes last til I’m 90.

Grape Juice

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There’s nothing prettier than the morning sun shining through jars of freshly canned grape juice.

In fact, I woke up my husband this morning and made him come out to the kitchen to view the breath-taking sight. He appreciates things like this. It’s one of the things I love most about him.

In the bleak midwinter, this grape juice will taste heavenly. Right now, it’s probably a little weak, but given time, this is grape juice at its finest. It needs to set awhile, soak awhile, sleep awhile. One raw, bitterly cold and snowy January evening, my hubby will pop some popcorn, I’ll get out the cribbage board, and we’ll pop open one of these jars. We’ll strain out the grapes and have a taste of late summer goodness.

Those wrinkly old grapes will have turned water into wine (well, juice, really). Miraculous!

As I get older and wrinklier (is that a word?) I hope I seep out enough flavor to leave a little beauty and sweetness in the world. As God steeps us in the ordinary, may we create something extra-ordinary. Perhaps even miraculous.

Coming Home

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Vacation.  I highly recommend it.  I’ve never been on a real vacation before.  Oh, sure, we did some trips with the kids when they were young.  But traveling with little ones is not truly relaxing.  Memorable, but not relaxing.  And we’ve taken some time off to attend weddings, family gatherings and conferences.  Spending time with large groups of people is fun, but not necessarily relaxing.  I’ve always been anxious to return home and get back to a regular routine, and try to rest up from vacation.

We actually did it up right last week.  And for the first time, I wasn’t itching to get back home.  I experienced relaxation, refreshment and a restoring of my soul.  Here’s how to do it:

1.  Wait until the kids are old enough to fend for themselves, and responsible enough to take care of the dog.  ( It took us 31 years….)

2.  Pack a few clothes, a lot of books and fishing poles. 

3.  Drive north for about 4 hours.

4.  Find a cabin on a lake and move in.  Walk out onto the dock and drink in the sights, sounds, and smells.  Be amazed. 

5.  Take a deep breath and let all the knots, worries, concerns, problems and frets go.  Just let it all go.

6.  Repeat several times a day, every day, for as long as you possibly can.

Now, that’s a vacation.  You’ve got to try it.

Running Away

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I’m running away today.  With my husband.  Without my cell phone or computer.  No TV, no internet, no texting.  Only a bagful of books and journals, a boat, and a cribbage board.  I am beside myself with giddiness!

TTFN  (Ta-Ta For Now)

Lists

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This is my to-do list for yesterday. I love the look of a to-do list that is all ta-done. There’s a sense of victory in knocking off each item, like a mighty conqueror.

My mind is constantly making lists. The process starts early in the morning and carries me through the day. I like having a plan that keeps me on track. Yesterday, it worked. That doesn’t happen very often, hence the picture of my glorious slip of scribbled paper. Most days are a mix of surprises and interruptions with some mayhem thrown in. Perhaps this penchant for making lists is my way of willing some order into the universe and control over my day.

I’m not the only one who likes lists. The scriptures are full of them. Some are monotonous lists of who begat whom or what tract of land each tribe was given. Some lists are familiar, like the 10 Commandments or the Beatitudes. See?  God likes lists too. One of the best is a pretty short one, and tucked into one of those obscure books that forces one to use the Table of Contents. Micah, speaking for God, said, “What does the Lord require of you? 1) To act justly 2) to love mercy and 3) to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8  

Don’t think I’ll ever be able to cross off that list. It’s hard to act justly when so often life isn’t fair. (“The fair comes to town once a year and for the rest of the year, it’s just not fair.” – famous quote of my aunt.) I love mercy, because I need so much of it. I don’t always love mercy enough to extend it to others, though. I do my best to walk with God, but the “humbly” part, that needs some work.

Maybe I should give more attention to Micah’s to-do list. What would happen if every morning, we all wrote down those three things and carried that list around all day? I’m thinking we’d change the world.

Step It Up

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“Take the time and trouble to keep yourself spiritually fit.” 1 Timothy 4:7 (Phillips version)  

Last year our insurance company sent out pedometers to everyone covered by their health insurance plan. We were told to wear them every day and then regularly plug them into our computer where the steps would be logged. At the end of the year, depending on how many steps taken, each person would be rewarded. I figured a little motivation couldn’t hurt and it wasn’t a big deal to clip the pedometer on my belt loop every morning. When I realized the reward could potentially be as much as $300, I got serious. Getting paid to walk? Are you kidding? I’m in!

Unfortunately, not everyone in the household was on board. One day I noticed an unused pedometer sitting on  the counter and *cha-ching*, I saw money walking out the door. So I clipped it on next to mine. Not sure that’s ok. I feel slightly guilty, so it’s probably not ok.

Perhaps I’ve lost sight of the real motivation for all this. The money is nice, but exercise and good health is really what this deal is all about. Wearing my hubby’s pedometer might garner me a few bucks, but it will do nothing for his health. When it comes down to it, everyone needs to be responsible for their own steps if they want the true reward.

This Is Why

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This is why I love baseball.

        I love baseball because I love these two baseball players.       

  One son starts the game ….

and the other son closes the game.

Some days are glorious, some are painful.

Losing hurts worse than winning feels good.

But even in the painful times, they have each other. 

I don’t really love baseball.  I like baseball.

I really love them.

How Do I Love Thee?

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You’ve probably seen that commercial where a man and woman are at a park sitting on a blanket and the man says, “I love this new Miller Lite aluminum pint.”  “Oh really,” she says. “Why do you love it?”  And he begins to expound on all the reasons why he loves his beer can. He’s articulate and passionate. He doesn’t have to stop and think; the many reasons for his ardor roll off his tongue effortlessly. The annoyed girlfriend then asks the inevitable question, “And why do you love me?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he tries too hard to sound natural, but stutters and stammers some idiotic blather about her hair and teeth. She’s not impressed. In fact, she’s ticked.

In another episode, a young man is obviously falling hard for a beautiful young woman. His voice-over leads us to believe he’s found “the one” for him.  Except “the one” turns out to be a keg of beer in his fridge.

Sometimes I feel like those shallow guys on the beer commercials. I can wax eloquent about a book or movie I just love. I can go on and on about the joys of quilting or the thrill of finding a deal at a flea market. I can even be a fairly convincing sports fan. (I do love enjoy baseball.) But when the still, small voice whispers in my spirit, “And why do you love Me?” I am suddenly speechless. Like the guy in the commercial, I struggle to express anything with depth of meaning. “Gahhh…uhhhhh…’cause You, like, made everything and ….You’re….. you know, really great and … well…….  Thou Art Worthy…”  When I start talking like that, I know I’m trying too hard and not being real. Good gracious.

Instead of trying to come up with some high and lofty sounding words of righteous praise, I need a new approach. Maybe I should just give God a compliment. Something like, “My, You really outdid Yourself this morning with that sunrise.” Or, “Nice job on that flower. Great color and design.” Or, “I really love it when You do that.”

How do I love Thee? Let me make a list.

Funny what beer commercials can teach you.

Grandma Sarah

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I just found my great-great-grandmother last week.  I didn’t know she was  in the same town in which I reside.  In fact, she’s only two blocks down the street!  Imagine my surprise when I found her!  We had a rather one-sided conversation, however, because unfortunately, she died in 1862.  How I would have loved to ask her a hundred questions. 

What was it like being the wife of a large plantation owner in Virginia?  Did you lose the plantation when your husband died?  Why did you and your three married children and their families all move to the midwest in 1851?  Did you have a say in this adventure or did your children insist you come along?  What was it like traveling across the country with five grandchildren, ages 9, 6, 2 and two infants?  What was our town like in the mid 1800s?  Why did you settle in this town?  So many questions I’d like to ask.

Moving is not easy for me.  But when we came to this town six years ago, I didn’t have to pack up a wagon and ride hundreds of miles across rough terrain.  I didn’t have to say goodbye to a childhood home I would never see again.  Somehow, it’s comforting to know that my great-great-grandmother came before me and that for some reason, we have both been destined to leave our marks on this place. 

Thank you for being brave, Sarah Roe Newbill Powell, and venturing out to the new state of Wisconsin.  I don’t know what brought you here and I don’t know if you were happy here, but I’m glad you were here.   I’ll stop by every once in a while to say hi.

 

More Treasure

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Remember Hushai the Arkite? (See my last post if you have no idea who Hushai the Arkite is.) It seems that Hushai was not one of those obscure biblical names that gets mentioned once and is never to be heard of again. Although I’ve never heard a sermon on Hushai, and he wasn’t in the Sunday school material, and I doubt if he’s on the list of great men of the Bible, Hushai actually plays pretty big in the saga of King David. (Read the biblical account for yourself in 2 Samuel 15-17.)

When David’s son Absalom attempted to usurp his father’s throne, David decided to leave Jerusalem rather than go to battle against his son. It was a tearful departure from the royal city and “the whole countryside wept aloud” as David and his entourage march out. “David continued up the Mount of Olives, weeping as he went.” “When David arrived at the summit…..Hushai the Arkite was there to meet him.”

I love Hushai for that. He was there in the glory days of David’s reign when it was an honor to be on the king’s list of insiders. And he was a faithful companion in David’s saddest, darkest days. I imagine David was comforted to see his friend’s face up on that Mount. There are friends you can call on in times of need, but then there are friends who just know when to show up at your door.

Hushai went on to enter the service of Absalom in order to be a spy for David and he played a key role in undermining Absalom’s plans to attack David. The name Hushai pops up one other time. David’s son Solomon followed his father as king and he appointed twelve district governors, one of which was Baana, son of Hushai. (1 Kings 4:16) It seems that while their fathers were at work in the palace, Solomon and Baana were forging their own friendship.

Friendship is a true treasure. Thank you for being a friend.