3-2-1 Eggnog

We have our own eggs again! 

I'm so thankful to God for creating chickens!

Most of the time, that is. ;) 

Having fresh eggnog for breakfast 

this morning was a delight. 

 3-2-1-2-3 is our easy to remember formula. 

I don't make this with store-bought eggs 

because of the risk of salmonella.

3 cups milk

2 large eggs

1 tsp vanilla

2 shakes nutmeg

3 packets stevia

Blend very briefly on low.

If you prefer sugar, substitute for the stevia to taste.

So Glad I Don't Own This

   This is my favorite old building in Aurora. This is the back. The front was recently painted white when a micro-brewery moved in. I support businesses saving old buildings, but I am opposed to painting brick. Look at the history that nobody can see on the front side anymore. This was once a two story then somebody thought it would be a good idea to make it a three. All those lovely architectural stars that hold the tie-rods are proof that it wasn't--but don't they look great?

   

Every time I look at this building I think, "I LOVE that building.....I'm so glad I don't own it." 

   I've decided that a picture a day won't always include Saturdays and sometimes not Sundays. It's spring and there are gardens and animals to plan for and care for. So here's a weekend's worth of views. :)

Taxes vs. an Eternal Weight of Glory

      We're working on our taxes. Therefore, in my heart, I have been grumbling. I am so tempted to get my knickers in a twist over it all. I could justify it, too, if I start thinking about how my tax money is spent and by whom and for what and if that's even legal, much less right. But when I asked the Lord about it, He responded with a question. 

     In Luke 20 some scribes and chief priests sent people to trick Jesus by asking Him: 

"Is it lawful for us to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?" 

He saw straight through them, of course, and after viewing Caesar's likeness on the denarius, replied:

"Render to Caesar

the things that are Caesar's,

and to God the things that are God's."

     It always blows my mind how He does that. Instead of answering the apparent question, He answers the heart of the matter (the thing that's the matter with the heart). To render means to return, or pay back. So, for the privileges we enjoy from our government we render taxes. But what do we return to God for the privileges we enjoy? I believe it is honor. We should be a people who bring honor to His name. His name which He has bestowed on us. 

So He asked me: "Are you honoring Me?" 

(The answer to which was "No, I prefer grumbling, apparently. But I'm sorry, and I'm done now.")

After receiving the privileges of His careful investment in my life, the wealth of promises in His Word, the bountiful wisdom of His guidance, the abundant comfort of His faithfulness, an inheritance that will not perish, eternal treasure where moth and rust do not destroy and thieves cannot break in and steal; after receiving proof upon proof of the incredible riches of His goodness to me, I think I need to be done grumbling over pocket change.

On Roosters, Napoleon Bonaparte and S'mores

     Yesterday G taught C how, and in some respects how not, to butcher a chicken. I'm reducing the roosters and this guy was worth the effort. So to celebrate this unusual event, C requested Napoleon's famed "Chicken Marengo", and the bird spent the day becoming tender in the crockpot. This dish was originally served to Napoleon to break the fast he kept during the battle at Marengo in Piedmont, Italy in 1800. It was such a success that Napoleon's chef was instructed to prepare it for the French General after every battle. (And young men have been requesting it to celebrate their conquests ever since.)

     So while it was cooking, the guys and I worked at clearing out the garden. I love living where we can throw a pile of brush down most anywhere and light it up most anytime. It appeals to the independent pyromaniac in me, I guess. Of course, it led to a spontaneous need for s'mores and fortunately for the guys, Dad was kind enough to oblige on his way home from work. 

     Life is short, tonight we ate dessert first. Now it's time for some superfluous poultry. Vive la difference!

Not-So-Fine Feature Meets The Lust of the Eyes

I think if a woman is honest, she has to admit that she has at least one feature she is content with and one she would rather trade in.
For example: I'll keep my hair. It's pretty thick, relatively low maintenance, not graying too fast, but definitely throwing in a couple of white ones to mark my increasing maturity. In general it isn't a bother and doesn't draw attention to itself: a keeper feature.
Then there are my feet. Um, how do I say this delicately? They're flappin' humongous. You can say what you want, but a 10.5-11 medium shoe on a woman who is 5'6" is hugely out of proportion. HOWEVER, it almost never bothers me now that I no longer live with my father who was always asking if I wasn't cold with so much of me laying on the ground all the time. After all, a solid foundation is a good thing and I've had years to grow accustomed to them. I can't really even complain anymore about the difficulty in finding shoes like when I was young because there are now enough sasquatchian types like myself to motivate shoe manufacturers to provide for us.
But today my husband mentioned a particular Danish clog sale and I saw THIS at 60% off (with no tax and free shipping!) I want them. No, I need them. (Yeah, okay, not really, but I needed some dramatic phrasing.) But we can never be together because this amazing clog with all of its glorious red and pink patterns would LOOK ABSOLUTELY STUPID ON MY GARGANTUAN FEET.
I will get through this. I will overcome. I may even, somehow, triumph and grow as a person because of this disappointment. In the meantime, I will pull myself together and count my blessings: exactly $58.00 and the avoidance of another chance to look foolish.

Conquering the World, One Meal at a Time

A colorful dinner for a colorless day.

Delicious food, almost entirely organic, consisting of 

red lentils with chicken and tomatoes on flaxseed toast, 

spring greens and peppers with fresh carrot juice.

So good and an adequate consolation, I guess, for having my 

green people wiped from the face of the earth.

Oh Conquering World, 

if you only knew 

what we green people 

can do for you....

I Prefer the Green Stuff

Then God said, "Let the earth sprout vegetation, plants yielding seed, and fruit trees on the earth bearing fruit after their kind with seed in them"; and it was so.

The earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed after their kind, and trees bearing fruit with seed in them, after their kind; and God saw that it was good.

There was evening and there was morning, a third day.

Genesis 1:11-13

I just thought I would post a reminder that plants were part of God's original creation, 

but computers and cell phones came after the Fall...   :)

Old Brick Building

Friday mornings find us in Greendale for S's piano lessons. Today I decided to see what lay at the end of a street I had never taken.
I was well-rewarded.


No Parking ANY TIME--
Isn't that the truth?
Time never stops.
Newness wears off.
Things break down.
Decay sets in.


But someday there will be a new heavens and a new earth, no moth or rust will destroy it and no thieves will break in and steal.

Old buildings speak to me. I don't know why. But they frequently call to me as I pass: "Hey You! You can see me can't you? Please help! A little TLC, a bit of elbow grease, and I could be beautiful again..."

I think bricks are rich material from which to build. I grew up in Oregon where almost everything was constructed from wood. I like wood. But here the old buildings are made of rock, stones and bricks. 

They stand a lot longer and I like the way they weather. 

In the old days, before people watched HGTV, they knew that dark greens and greys go best with bricks. No one would dream of  painting the door to their building Lemon or Lime or Eggplant.


This is door #78. That used to mean something to someone.
I wish I knew what.

S was, as usual, very patient while I hopped in and out of the van snapping this and that. Later he informed me that he had seen my 'dream car' while I was getting groceries and had taken a picture:

Wow. I'm speechless. ;)

Keeping Up the Past

     We have been in Indiana about 5 and a half years, and I am shocked by how many of the lovely old barns that we used to pass in our region have in this short time either fallen, burned, or been knocked down. In fact, ours is one of the few in our area that remains intact. The barn to the left is not mine, but I passed it while out today and wondered how long it would keep standing on its insufficient wooden peg-for-a-leg and I sincerely wished that somebody would or could make it more stable. 

     As the owner of an old barn with normal old barn issues, I understand so much more now about the mixed blessing of having and keeping one of these structures than I did when I bought our place. They can be very useful, and the sight of them can illicit such comforting notions of the "Good Old Days", but in the end it takes a lot of time, money and energy to maintain them. And even if one can do it, the return is rarely equal the investment. 

     This is our barn. Isn't she pretty in her white cape? I'm going to be honest--this is her good side. And the reason it's still good is that it hasn't had to face much of what life in our valley throws at it, as this side faces East. But the West side, well, that is a different story. Almost daily it is beaten by the wind. When the storms send pounding rains and pelting hail and howling gales they almost always blow from that direction. The wood siding over there has been worn away at every edge by the onslaught and small animals can now fit easily through spaces between the boards. It is desperate to be replaced or covered. A roof truss on that side recently caved in a bit by some frightening gusts, and the sheeting, having faced the same abuse, needs a coat of aluminum paint. If it doesn't happen soon the rust that has begun will become holes which will become rot which will soon after become a tumbled down heap of century-old timbers. (Anyone have an extra $5000 and a week of labor to donate? Really? Us neither.)

     So as we, allegorically-speaking, consider the cost of keeping up the past, I am asking myself about clinging to it in my thoughts as well. Is it worth the pains involved to prop up what used to be? It's a big investment for momentary nostalgia. If I am honest I should recognize that when I'm sad I am only gazing on the pretty side of things and conveniently ignoring the ugly and untended parts. I am also forgetting that I have a master carpenter overseeing this project and I would be foolish to second-guess His plan and methods.

     My mind and personality are diminished and when I want to reminisce and feel pitiful I remember how I could multi-task like a machine and had ideas upon ideas upon ideas and how I could creatively problem-solve, brainstorm, make things, and serve Christ in unique ways. All of which appear to be so desirable and beautiful from a good, snow-covered distance. But the weather-beaten truth is that my brain was often scrambling frantically and it made me tense and rushed. I regularly packed a week's worth of activity into a few days. I couldn't see the problems well (I guess I was always looking from the East), but I remember saying a few times that it was "awfully noisy up there" in my head. It had gotten to the point where I often had trouble focusing on a singular idea, activity, conversation, or person at a time. I am sure that I hurt people I care about by being too distracted to focus on their needs, a conversation with them or a special day. Busy, busy, busy. Churn, churn, churn. Scramble, scramble, scramble.

     For decades I have asked the Lord to help me with this problem. Like our barn it was really huge and beyond my resources to fix it, but it needed to be taken care of. What a shock that He would tear it down! ("Um Lord, I was just thinking maybe new siding and a coat of paint?!) The foundation was solid though and most of the big timbers are strong. And the Lord is not slow; He's already rebuilding. While I can't yet see what His final plans are, I know it will all be done perfectly. Jesus The Creator is my builder and He only does good work.

The Cure for What Ails Me

Even I couldn't miss this message.
                      :)
What I have: unknown.
What I am to expect: not much. Probably no noteworthy test results, or specific diagnosis, or 'label' to make explaining my problem simpler, no real understanding of what has made this happen, how it works, how long it may last or what clear course of treatment to pursue...
...but of course there is a drug we can consider. 
Blech.


Romans 9:16

So then it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy.

Holding it All Together

When life is out of control

And there are just too many loose ends

It's good to remember that the Lord

upholds all things by the word of His power

And it also doesn't hurt to

keep some extra binder clips handy

Nothing can separate us from God's love

Romans 8:38-39

Happy Valentines Day!

A New Season

     We went to PM's memorial service yesterday. He went home to be with the Lord two days after I was there. (See Feb. 3 post.) It was the best message I have heard in a very long time. Perhaps it was the best message I have ever heard. It was not a trumpet blast of exhortation charged from a Sunday sermon, but a quiet message of truth, hope and comfort shared gently through the example of a godly man. It was a joyous, real celebration of a life lived fully, faithfully, and victoriously in Christ. P died the way he lived: with full assurance that God orchestrates everything (Yes, cancer too.) for good purpose and He allows us to be part of the amazing things He’s doing if we will just surrender ourselves and our lesser plans to Him. I Peter 4:19 says that "those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good." The M's let go of everything, committing themselves to P's Creator to the end; and it was SO good, because it was SO right to do.

     Letting go of our plans can be difficult. Did I say “difficult”? I meant heart-wrenching. Anytime we set our hearts on something and cling to it and stomp our feet and scream “But it’s MINE!” letting go is  excruciating.  The Lord was asking me to let go of something, too, and sometime during that service, full to overflowing with praise, honor, and worship to a deserving God, awed and thankful to have been a tiny part of His good plan for the M’s, and seeing face to face the beauty He was bringing from the ashes, I heard Him whisper to me: "Is this worth it?" and I could only reply through tears, "Oh YES, Lord." Sometimes a good object lesson beats a hundred sermons.

  You see, I am still struggling with what I suppose is Epstein-Barr disease. And for awhile now the Lord has been gently tugging at my tight-fisted grasp on “FULL RECOVERY.” No human can make that happen. I am human; I cannot make it happen. But I had it by the throat, and though I wanted to let go I couldn’t, until I saw it done well by others. I am pursuing answers—not quite done yet, but very close—and there are measures that I will take to be as healthy as I can, but I am no longer expecting to receive back the life I used to have. That is not drama, it is realism; if the Lord wants to surprise me with good health I will not turn Him away! But at this moment, and hopefully for much longer, it is okay if He does not. Actually it is much, much better than okay. It is good. It is very good, because God asks me to be part of the good plans He has, if I will just surrender myself and my lesser plans to Him. And in His kindness He even prepared me to let go by giving me something better to hold on to, something more important to me than my health, something I had feared was also lost, something I wasn’t sure I could live without. I can only let go of my physical life because He has restored to me my spiritual life; and I only understand its value because He was willing to take it from me, so that I could understand.

  One month ago, in a 24 hour period, the Lord restored the parts of my life that are most dear to me, the parts He started taking away last Spring, the parts I was not living well without. Namely, He restored to me the sense of His presence, the sound of His voice, the knowledge of His leading, and the ability to serve Him. Being stripped down physically from active to inactive, and mentally from vibrant to dull is hard and sorrowful (especially if you maintain a very tight grasp). But being stripped down spiritually from intimately connected to your Heavenly Father to seemingly without any connection was Hell on Earth. Truly, the perception of being separated from Him was almost more than I could bear, and there were times when I thought about not bearing it any longer. I could not have comprehended then how much I needed to palpably understand what matters and what does not. Without the absence of my spiritual health, and then its restoration, I could not have clearly understood how little my physical health really means. But now I do. That is nothing short of amazing.

  Yesterday in the middle of understanding all this, the Lord further encouraged me with an example of light: there is a light that shines far and wide and brightly and is useful for many things, but there is also a light that shines small and it is useful for altogether other things, and one cannot do the job of the other. I guess He is suggesting that instead of being a floodlight, now He wants me to be a laser—or perhaps a pen light. ;) He has been gently letting me know, for quite awhile now, that this small life is the full extent of what He will return to me for now, and possibly for the rest of my life. (That’s His business, not mine.) But at the same time, in His love and kindness, He prepared me and helped me and in the end gave me hope. This is His good plan and He is calling me to be part of it! It is a message of truth, hope and comfort. And thus the question He asked: "Is this worth it?" Strange that it seems so obvious now.

  Today felt like spring, and knowing that this week's weather is supposed to be much like today, I want it to be a “good” week (that's my secret code for “pain-free and productive”), but even if it’s not I think I will still be able to enjoy the beginning of this new season because I have what really matters and I know it.

Oh Nuts

"Stop picking through the nuts! You have to eat every kind!" grumbled the annoyed husband.

"I will eat every kind. I just prefer to select the order." replied the logical wife.

Watch Those Fingers!

     It's K's month to use the wringer washer down at the mission. Psh. We had to use it the whole year we lived there! (And yes, as a matter of fact we did walk 5 miles uphill to Bible class both ways, every day, in the snow. Yeah okay, no, but still.)

     S was about 5 when he was helping feed the clothes through and his hand went in. They tell you to not panic and just pop the top. I panicked and hit reverse...that worked too, eventually. He seems to have recovered. And he never got caught again.

     I bought this one at the L'burg Antique Mall and we took it down with us last spring on a visit since they were down to one working machine. We're all about supporting missions, you know. Snuck it into the laundry room so none of the students would know who to 'thank'.

     I imagine by now K is probably wishing we had let somebody else buy it ....

He'll Take Care of The Rest

You know, it ain't no use

Banging your head

Up against that cold stone wall

'Cause nobody's perfect

Except for the Lord--

And even the best's bound to fall

Remember,

He is the vine

And you are the branch

He'll love to get you through it if you give him a chance

Just keep doing your best

And pray that it's blessed

Jesus takes care of the rest

He'll Take Care of The Rest

Keith Green

Having My Head Examined

 

To all those people who ever thought "Missy should get her head examined...",

well today was the day!

So how was it? Claustrophobic. An opportunity for some serious self-control. 

Loud. Weird. And, thankfully, over quicker than I expected. 

G promised me Chipotle for lunch. Not sure I could be bought so easily next time.

Oh-- and please note the branding on the machine--G.E. So glad I saw that! 

(I mean if it said Samsung or GPX I was out of there--only American-made MRI's for this gal!)

Expectation: if it is like all the other tests so far, nothing whatsoever out of the ordinary.

I Have Hope

Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD’s great love
   we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself,
  “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”
The LORD is good to those whose hope
   is in him, to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
   for the salvation of the LORD.
Lamentations 3:21-26

God of All Transport

  We have been down to one vehicle since Thursday and I have been marveling at how God has chosen to confirm His will in my life recently via something as uninspiring as transportation. 

  Example One: I recently did not want to go to an event that I was absolutely certain the Lord was sending me to. So being the 'obedient' child that I am I readied myself while groaning, grumbling and sighing, all the while cherishing the thought that just maybe I would be allowed to opt out at the last minute, until my neighbor called and needed a ride to the same event. Ta da: I had to go and I had to stay.

  Example Two: The Lord asked me to do an important job for one day. That was all He needed me for, but I decided that I would stay longer when my dear husband called to say that vehicle #2 had just lost its entire store of oil in the staff parking lot and needed a tow. My husband and sons would need to be picked up by me within a few hours, and that, as they say, was that. 

  And there have been many more, but in the end they are all the same:

The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps.

Proverbs 16:9   

Truly I am glad that the Lord's means of steering or stopping me are limitless. It is a great comfort to know that while I can severely mess things up, I can never thwart His plans for me.

Happy Feet

In addition to reading glasses, I've started wearing crocs in the last few years, which is proof, if that was needed, that I am getting older.
I know that some joke about how stupid people look in these, but I've hit that point in life where I don't generally care what people think. OK, I've been camped at the point for a long time, but nevertheless, I like them because they:
Slip on and off easily.
Cushion my steps.
Clean up with soap and water.
Never conduct the cold from the floor.
Are worn by nurses. (And nurses are very smart.)
Fit over my fuzzy socks.
Cost me less than $10 a pair.

And lastly, they leave a very cool footprint in the snow.

Amateur Hospice Care

I just spent 26 hours helping manage some of life's relentless details so a sister in Christ could attend to her dying husband. In short, I did all the menial things I could, which took no talent at all, just a willing mind and body and it was a help. 

Mostly,  I listened very much and tried to talk very little.

     It happened like this. We are not close, or maybe were not close, but the Lord was relentlessly burdening me on Monday and Tuesday when the word was things were very bad and he would pass soon:

"She needs help."   "But Lord, we aren't really friends." 

"She needs help, you should go." 

"I am praying for them Lord, but she has friends and family nearby."

"I want you to go. Pack a bag."

"Surely someone is doing this. Plus I've not been so healthy and have a cheese order to fill..." 

( I waited. I doubted. So I made calls, but no one knew who was managing things. Which meant that no one was managing things. I sent an email and an FB message and a phone call. No response. No one managing...)

"It's time to go." "But I'm so afraid of intruding or offending or over-stepping..."

"Now. Will you not go for Me?"  "Yes. I will go. But Lord what will I say?"

"Listen much and talk little."

     On Wednesday, as I drove the 45 minutes to her house--where I had never been--I started out afraid, but He confirmed and comforted me. He reminded me of a few other times that He has asked me to not 'mind my own business' but step in and how each time it had been needed and wanted. And then He brought to mind that when C and P married, she likely had an attendant who helped prepare her to be with her husband and how now she needed an attendant to help prepare her to be without him. The rest of the drive I prayed and worshiped and prayed some more and tried to consecrate myself because I was about to step on holy ground. When I arrived I still didn't know what to say except that I was there to help her and if she didn't want me to be there I would leave, but if she didn't tell me to leave I was staying. She was stunned, relieved, thankful and tearful--and all I had done was show up.
Mostly, I listened very much and tried to talk very little. That's not a tough job.
     I shall recap my unremarkable duties so that no one can pretend they are not capable if the Lord asks them to do something similar:
I started by taking over the phones--all of them. I listened to messages, answered some, listed all and deleted basically everything. I noted every phone call, the time it came in, and if it needed a follow up call which I was able to discourage in every case but two and I made one of the callbacks myself.  I listened very much and tried to talk very little.
When I heard the words "I should..." or "I need to..." I offered to do it unless it was clearly not my job, or I suggested that it could wait--if it could. This precious time is short. I wrote an update, posted it on Facebook and had her email it to their friends who wanted to know but wouldn't call for the family's sake. I made a calendar of who would be at the house overnight and made some arrangements for the same. I tossed old meals, then sorted and put into cold storage the abundance of food being sent by caring friends. I heard wonderful stories of God's amazing faithfulness while I listened very much and tried to talk very little.
     I harvested detailed little bits of information about services and plans and discussions as they leaked out here and there from two exhausted and strained women until I had collected enough pieces to form a picture then clarified what I thought I saw. I offered my brain cells since I rarely use them anyway and theirs were otherwise occupied. I freed them from thinking. Thought and grief and problem-solving mix like oil and water and rocks. I listened very much and tried to talk very little.
    I greeted visitors and turned a few away gently. I made nutrient-dense fresh food and got it into a woman so focused on her ministering to her other half that the half I was ministering to was clinically dehydrated and unfed when I arrived near dinner time. I visited with guests and family members. I listened and asked questions when they spoke with the nurse. I washed the bedding and towels, and dishes and counters. I straightened the rugs. I comforted the dog. I determined that no matter what happened I would be a peaceful presence.  I listened very much and tried to talk very little.
     I hugged and patted and prayed and listened and rejoiced and wept and marveled and observed and tried to think through some of the ridiculously mundane details that are demanded from people at a time when only a few things matter at all, in the whole wide world that continues to turn when it should rightfully stop. 

     Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress...   (James 1:27)

     Amateur Hospice Care: No degree required. When a loved one is dying and life is messy and awkward and out of control and devastating and swirling and dream-like in all the wrong ways, a normal person becomes distressed and can't manage the small things. They shouldn't have to. Any amateur can do it.

     Did I do a perfect job? No. When I go back,  I will listen MORE and talk LESS.

My Favorite Little Cherub

Psalm 18:19

He brought me forth into a broad place;

He rescued me, because He delighted in me. 

I live in a house that was built, or more accurately stated--begun, in 1895. And back before landfills were created, and sadly long after that time, folks chucked small and not-so-small broken items into refuse piles in the woods. One such pile sits, not surprisingly, about 75 feet from the house under the trees nearest the kitchen. It is full of weathered bits of old glass jars, fragments of once useful items and an occasional piece of brittle plastic.

     I have in our 5 years here found all sorts of interesting little things in this particular pile, but none that has brought me more happiness than my sweet little porcelain cherub. 

     In her glory days she used to sit lightly on the edge of an elegant vase or serving dish that adorned the homestead. But something happened and her perch met some terrible and heart-breaking end and was summarily cast off to the garbage heap, where she sat, untended for many years. I imagine that her former station was an expensive wedding present from some wealthy relative of a previous owner more than a hundred years ago. (It's so much more romantic than thinking that somebody might have plucked her off a thrift store shelf in the 80's. )

     But either way, I knew as soon as she came into view that it was my duty to rescue her from that dreadful place where she could only conclude--if she were capable of concluding--that she was a reject and worthless. I brought her inside, made her clean, and she now sits happily on the edge of my aloe plant on the kitchen window sill where I can admire and cherish her. 

     And in return, she reminds me of two things: 

One, that I mustn't forget to water the aloe from time to time. And two, that I was likewise rescued by an adoring Benefactor who takes delight in me.

       

Beautiful in Both Directions

To leave the valley we must go up before we go down. 

It is beautiful both directions and in every season.