Well I know I haven't been here much. I thoroughly enjoyed my 4 days off from work though. As usual, we had Thanksgiving dinner (and lunch) with Chris' aunt and uncle. I think this year was the smallest group she's ever had. Most years it 10-15 people, this year there were only 6 of us. The turkey was awesome- she brined it and used a meat thermometer to know when to pull it out without overcooking. I checked the little button thing that comes with turkeys and is supposed to pop when its done. This one popped somewhere between 185* and 190*F. Poultry is done around 165*- no wonder so many people have dried out turkeys.
We decided to forego the doorbusting on Black Friday, but we did make a trip out to our local tea store to take advantage of their 20% off special. They have an awesome selection of loose leaf teas, are really helpful, and I love being able to support a local business. At some point I may do a series of reviews of local businesses. There are quite a few that we like and try to support regularly, or at least whenever we can.
Yesterday I thought I'd try and do some of my Christmas shopping for my kiddos, but since I didn't have a list made up it didn't go too well. I did hit up CVS, though. Their Black Friday deals are actually 3 day sales. Waiting till Saturday evening the store was still well-stocked and there were NO crowds. I spent just over $6 out of pocket, ended up with $2 ECBs left over, and left with three bags of razors, lotions, and toothpaste, most of which went into our donation box.
Other than those adventures, we mostly just hung out and relaxed. Considering the whirlwind that usually comes between now and the new year, that was probably a good thing.

Thanksgiving

As usual, Elizabeth Elliot says it better than I could.

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture Reference:

Thanksgiving for What is Given

Some people are substituting "Turkey Day" for Thanksgiving. I guess it must be because they are not aware that there's anybody to thank, and they think that the most important thing about the holiday is food. Christians know there is Somebody to thank, but often when we make a list of things to thank Him for we include only things we like. A bride and groom can't get away with that. They write a note to everybody, not only the rich uncle who gave the couple matching BMWs, but the poor aunt who gave them a crocheted toilet-paper cover. In other words, they have to express thanks for whatever they've received.
Wouldn't that be a good thing for us to do with God? We are meant to give thanks "in everything" even if we're like the little girl who said she could think of a lot of things she'd rather have than eternal life. The mature Christian offers not just polite thanks but heartfelt thanks that springs from a far deeper source than his own pleasure. Thanksgiving is a spiritual exercise, necessary to the building of a healthy soul. It takes us out of the stuffiness of ourselves into the fresh breeze and sunlight of the will of God. The simple act of thanking Him is for most of us an abrupt change of activity, a break from work and worry, a move toward re-creation.
I am not suggesting the mouthing of foolish platitudes, or evasion of the truth. That is not how God is glorified, or souls fortified. I want to see clearly what I have been given and to thank Him with an honest heart. What are the "givens"?
Thankless children we all are, more or less, comprehending but dimly the truth of God's fathomless love for us. We do not know Him as a gracious Giver, we do not understand His most precious gifts, or the depth of His love, the wisdom with which He has planned our lives, the price He pays to bring us to glory and fulfillment. When some petty private concern or perhaps some bad news depresses or confuses me, I am in no position to be thankful. Far from it. That is the time, precisely then, that I must begin by deliberately putting my mind on some great Realities.
What are these "givens"? What do I most unshakably believe in? God the Father Almighty. Jesus Christ His only Son. The Holy Ghost, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, the life everlasting. Not a long list, but all we need. "The necessary supplies issued to us, the standard equipment of the Christian." We didn't ask for any of them. (Imagine having nothing more than we've asked for!) They are given.
Take the list of whatever we're not thankful for and measure it against the mighty foundation stones of our faith. The truth of our private lives can be understood only in relation to those Realities. Some of us know very little of suffering, but we know disappointments and betrayals and losses and bitterness. Are we really meant to thank God for such things? Let's be clear about one thing: God does not cause all the things we don't like. But He does permit them to happen because it is in this fallen world that we humans must learn to walk by faith. He doesn't leave us to ourselves, however. He shares every step. He walked this lonesome road first, He gave Himself for us, He died for us. "Can we not trust such a God to give us, with Him, everything else that we can need?" (Romans 8:32, PHILLIPS). Those disappointments give us the chance to learn to know Him and the meaning of His gifts, and, in the midst of darkness, to receive His light. Doesn't that transform the not thankful list into a thankful one?

Quiet Heart

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture Reference: 1 Corinthians 10:5 Numbers 11:6

Humdudgeons or Contentment

The word humdudgeon is a new one to me and I like the sound of it. It means "a loud complaint about a trifle." Heard any of those lately around your house? One mother thought of an excellent antidote: all humdudgeons must be presented not orally but in writing, "of two hundred words or more." There was a sudden marked reduction in whining and complaining.

Parents, by example, teach their children to whine. No wonder it is so difficult to teach them not to! Listen to conversations in the elevator, at the hairdresser's, at the next table in the restaurant. Everybody's whining about everything--weather, health, the president, the IRS, the insurance mess, traffic, the kids.

Human life is full of trouble, which doesn't come from the dust, said Job's friend Eliphaz, nor does it sprout from the ground. Man is born to trouble. Compare your list of troubles with one famous man's:

1. He had a difficult childhood
2. Less than one year of formal schooling
3. Failed in business at age 31
4. Defeated for legislature at 32
5. Failed again in business at 33
6. Elected to the legislature at 34
7. His fiancee died when he was 35
8. Defeated for speaker at 38
9. Defeated for electorate at 40
10. At 42 married a woman who became a burden, not a help
11. Only one of four sons lived past age 18
12. Defeated for congress at 43
13. Elected to congress at 46
14. Defeated for congress at 48
15. Defeated for senate at 55
16. Defeated for vice president at 56
17. Defeated for senate at 58
18. Finally elected president.

He was Abraham Lincoln, of course. When I look at his list of setbacks, I wonder if I've ever had a problem.

Adler said, "It is a categorical demand of the neurotic's lifespan that he should fail through the guilt of others and thus be free of responsibility." That sobered me. Is my response to failure instantly to lay the blame on somebody else? Is there always an excuse, a complaint, an inner whine!

A spirit of calm contentment always accompanies true godliness. The deep peace that comes from deep trust in God's lovingkindness is not destroyed even by the worst of circumstances, for those Everlasting Arms are still cradling us, we are always "under the Mercy." Corrie ten Boom was "born to trouble" like the rest of us, but in a German concentration camp she jumped to her feet every morning and exuberantly sang "Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus!" She thanked the Lord for the little parade of ants that marched through her cell, bringing her company. When Paul and Silas were in prison, they prayed and sang. It isn't troubles that make saints, but their response to troubles.

Even miracles can't make us holy. Paul reminded the Corinthians that the Israelites were all guided by the same cloud, all had the experience of passing through the sea, all ate the same supernatural food, and all drank the same supernatural drink. "In spite of this, most of them failed to please God and their corpses littered the desert" (1 Corinthians 10:5, JB). The reason for His displeasure came down to a single root: discontent, which included "wicked lusts for forbidden things (idols and illicit sex, for which 23,000 were killed in one day) and complaining because they wanted things perfectly legitimate in themselves which God had not given--leeks and onions and garlic and cucumbers and fish--and stood at their tent doors, parents and children together wailing "Here we are, wasting away, stripped of everything; there is nothing but manna for us to look at!" Numbers 11:6, JB). Many were struck with a plague and died.

When Paul's flesh was tormented by a sharp thorn, he naturally wanted it removed. He made this request known to God, but the answer was No. God didn't change Paul's physical condition, He changed his spiritual one. He gave him what he needed more than healing. He gave him the high ministry of heaven called grace. Paul not only accepted the answer, he learned even to be very thankful for weakness itself, for "power comes to its full strength in weakness."

Everything about which we are tempted to complain may be the very instrument whereby the Potter intends to shape His clay into the image of His Son--a headache, an insult, a long line at the check-out, someone's rudeness or failure to say thank you, misunderstanding, disappointment, interruption. As Amy Carmichael said, "See in it a chance to die," meaning a chance to leave self behind and say YES to the will of God, to be "conformable unto His death." Not a morbid martyr-complex but a peaceful and happy contentment in the assurance that goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives. Wouldn't our children learn godliness if they saw the example of contentment instead of complaint? acceptance instead of rebellion? peace instead of frustration?

May ours be the spirit of the seventeen-year-old Lady Jane Grey, who prayed this prayer in her prison cell before she was beheaded in 1554:

O merciful God, be Thou unto me
A strong Tower of defence,
I humbly entreat Thee.
Give me grace to await Thy leisure,
And patiently to bear
What Thou doest unto me;
Nothing doubting or mistrusting
Thy goodness towards me;
For Thou knowest what is good for me
Better than I do.
Therefore do with me in all things
What Thou wilt;
Only arm me, I beseech Thee,
With Thine armor,
That I may stand fast;
Above all things taking to me
The shield of faith;
Praying always that I may
Refer myself wholly to Thy will,
Abiding Thy pleasure, and comforting myself
In those troubles which it shall please Thee
To send me, seeing such troubles are
Profitable for me; and I am
Assuredly persuaded that all Thou doest
Cannot but be well; and unto Thee
Be all honor and glory. Amen.

There's something incredibly surreal about following a friend's link on facebook and having it lead to a news clip about the death of someone you knew. My prayers are going out to Debbie and her family, as well as to everyone who knew Megan.

Don't be Anxious

Author: Mrs. Charles E. Cowman
Source: Streams in the Desert
Scripture Reference: Philippians 4:6

In Everything

"In nothing be anxious" (Phil. 4:6).

No anxiety ought to be found in a believer. Great, many and varied may be our trials, our afflictions, our difficulties, and yet there should be no anxiety under any circumstances, because we have a Father in Heaven who is almighty, who loves His children as He loves His only-begotten Son, and whose very joy and delight it is to succor and help them at all times and under all circumstances. We should attend to the Word, "In nothing be anxious, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God."

"In everything," that is not merely when the house is on fire, not merely when the beloved wife and children are on the brink of the grave, but in the smallest matters of life, bring everything before God, the little things, the very little things, what the world calls trifling things--everything--living in holy communion with our Heavenly Father, arid with our precious Lord Jesus all day long. And when we awake at night, by a kind of spiritual instinct again turning to Him, and speaking to Him, bringing our various little matters before Him in the sleepless night, the difficulties in connection with the family, our trade, our profession. Whatever tries us in any way, speak to the Lord about it.

"By prayer and supplication," taking the place of beggars, with earnestness, with perseverance, going on and waiting, waiting, waiting on God.

"With thanksgiving." We should at all times lay a good foundation with thanksgiving. If everything else were wanting, this is always present, that He has saved us from hell. Then, that He has given us His Holy Word--His Son, His choicest gift--and the Holy Spirit. Therefore we have abundant reason for thanksgiving. O let us aim at this!

"And the peace of God which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." And this is so great a blessing, so real a blessing, so precious a blessing, that it must be known experimentally to be entered into, for it passeth understanding. O let us lay these things to heart, and the result will be, if we habitually walk in this spirit, we shall far more abundantly glorify God, than as yet we have done. --George Mueller, in Life of Trust

Twice or thrice a day, look to see if your heart is not disquieted about something; and if you find that it is, take care forthwith to restore it to calm.--Francis De Sales

In a Museum Somewhere...

a brontosaurus is missing a leg bone.To say this dog loves to chew is an understatement. She has gnawed through my phone charger, destroyed a book, and taken a bite out of our coffee table. Thankfully, she's gotten better and hasn't chewed anything "forbidden" in quite a while. I'm probably tempting fate even posting that, but so far so good. The first week that we had her she chewed up 5 tennis balls and several rawhide bones. We've since gotten her a Kong bone which she hasn't managed to destroy. Unfortunately, she also doesn't seem to like it much and rarely plays with it (unless we stuff it with peanut butter). Right now we've switched to the rawhide "chips", and she gets one every few days. She generally destroys them in about 5 minutes. Today Chris' aunt showed up with the mother of all rawhide bones.I think Ava might finally have met her match.
Thanks!!

Jingle Blocks, Jingle Blocks

I love these little blocks. Really, I love almost any kind of block. Blocks in general are sturdy, reasonably inexpensive, and awesome for open-ended play. Even though these blocks unfortunately fail the sturdy test, they have a special appeal for some of my kiddos. See, these blocks make NOISE. Even better, they make a non-irritating noise. Each block has a small bell inside, so when you shake them, bang them together, or knock over a stack of them, they jingle. The bell makes them a great toy for kids with vision impairments, or kids who love other types of rattles. Besides that, the blocks can be made in a variety of sizes- I have some really small ones for my kiddos with little hands. These are easy enough to make that I don't think I even need to post detailed instructions. You use plastic canvas, cut out 6 pieces of the same size, then sew the sides together using a big tapestry needle and yarn. Oh and as you're sewing the sides up, don't forget to put the bell in! I use a variety of bells so that the blocks don't all make exactly the same sound. Because the bells are small and can be a choking hazard, be sure and throw away or repair any blocks that get cracked since you don't want the bells to fall out and be swallowed.

Junk Food vs. Good Food

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Love Has A Price Tag
Scripture Reference:

Junk Food

If you're hungry, the airport in Fayetteville, Arkansas, is not a good place to be. The selection of "snacks" in the vending machine is impressive, but there is nothing at all that one could call food. You can insert your quarters, nickels and dimes (no pennies) and get chocolate chip cookies, potato chips (plain), potato chips with "bar-B-Q" flavor, potato chips with sour cream and onion (artificial) flavor, potato "Stix," pork rinds, corn chips, "Cornies," "Pub Fries," "Cheddar Fries," "Cheetos," "Cheese Smackers," and things called "Doritos," "Bugles," "yammers" and "Dunkums."
Alongside that machine is another one offering brightly colored aluminum cans of sweet fizzy stuff with which to wash down all those snacks or, I suppose, to Dunkum. I don't like to contemplate what state your blood sugar or your nerves or your sanctification would be in if your supper comprised a Tab and a package of Jammers, but on second thought, a look around the boarding lounge of almost any airport--at the facial expressions, the behavior of the pre-school-age tots, and the remarks overheard--give a clue. We are a nation "overfed but undernourished," to borrow the title of Curtis Wood's book.
Junk food is not nourishment. It's easily available (if you have the right coins). It is packaged up in eye-catching wrappings, presumably untouched by human hands. It can be transported to plane, to beach, to movie theatre, to school, to bed. It can be grabbed in a moment, wolfed down on the run; and there are no preparations to make, nothing to clean up except greasy fingers. It does away altogether with the ritual of eating--the laid table, the attractive presentation of a dish, the fellowship with others, the leisure to enjoy. In a world that has lost or discarded nearly all other rituals, what will become of us if we do away with even this one?
But worst of all, junk food feeds (feeding will make you fat) but does not nourish. Nourishment makes you strong. I sat on the molded fiberglass seat in Fayetteville, waiting for the small plane which would take me to Tulsa, and wished for a few crunchy fat Bing cherries or a slice of the wheat-honey bread that I make regularly at home--real food.
Don't misunderstand. I like potato chips. I like Cheetos. I haven't tried the commercially packaged pork rinds, but I certainly enjoyed the kind the Indians gave me in South America--fished out of a cauldron of hot fat bubbling over an open fire in some jungle clearing, eaten with a chunk of steamed manioc or a plantain roasted in the ashes.
We are people of our times and culture. Because of the "schedule" I seem to be obliged to keep, I am always looking for ways to use my time more efficiently, and one of them is to listen to tapes while I do my hair and face. I switched the recorder off the other day, disgusted with what I told my husband was spiritual junk food. A man was rambling on about his own feelings, his "meaningful" experiences, and how he got in touch with himself, with other people, and with God. No doubt he was telling the truth, but there wasn't a single reference to Scripture, and not much there that would nourish me.
Christian bookstores usually carry some real "meat," if you can find it. It is not likely to be up front where the paperbacks, the tapes and the records are, which display on their jackets color photographs of the author, the speaker or the singer, often taken in an open meadow, in a soft, misty light, and with a few wildflowers. (Are there any analogies here artificial color, perhaps, or flavor? What about preservatives? I understand preservatives are used in foods to give a longer "shelf life." The booksellers have thought of some tricks, I'm sure, to keep their wares in the public eye for a few weeks longer, but no trick takes the place of quality for preserving a book's shelf life.)
Tastes are developed. Solzhenitsyn, in his speech at Harvard a few months ago, deplored the "TV stupor" in which Americans live. He spoke of the decadence of art, of intolerable music, of mass prejudice, spiritual exhaustion, material luxury, and a morally inferior happiness. He is right. Alas, his own experience of totalitarianism and concentration camp gives him the perspective and the authority to judge our society. We must hear him.
Doctors have been learning of the physical exhaustion that can result from artificial or refined or highly sugared foods. Might not one cause of the spiritual exhaustion which Solzhenitsyn observes be the spiritual junk food we consume? What shall be done for the child fed on the snack-pack, the soft drink and the TV dinner? Will he never choose, let alone enjoy, vegetables? Will the Christian whose spiritual sustenance has been limited to the mass-produced, who is accustomed only to "snacking," whose tastes have been conditioned by the majority, ever choose what is truly nourishing?
What it comes down to, with regard to spiritual things, is that we ought to learn to do some of our own cooking. Granted, it is much easier to grab a package. But sometimes we ought to start from scratch.
Let us start with silence. That may be the hardest thing to achieve in our world. But it is not impossible. For one thing, it takes the will to be quiet. It is possible to be quiet on a crowded subway or in the kitchen when the bacon is frying, the washing machine is running and the baby wants more milk. It is easier by far to be quiet when things around us are quiet, and for most of us this means getting up early.
I was in my study this morning before the traffic had started up on Route 1A. No sound came from the road or the house. Only the sweet susurrus of the crickets in the grass and the cawing of a crow in a beech tree broke the silence, yet it took also an act of the will to be still and know that He is God. My mind races quite naturally over things done yesterday (burying a beloved friend's beloved little dog, getting my sister from the hospital, swimming in the ocean, writing a page or two) or things to be done today (writing more than a page or two, having a friend to tea, getting my mother from the airport). Be still. It is a command. The Hebrew word used in Psalm 46 can mean "Shut up."
The great books that have been spiritual meat and drink for me have been produced, I feel sure, out of great silence. Men and women of God have learned of him by being quiet and allowing him to speak to them in their solitude. They have been willing to be alone, to shut up, to listen, and to think and pray over what they have heard. In our modern world most people choose noise. Go to the beach or a forest camp and find portable radios, television sets, record players. Sit down in a waiting room and listen to what Malcolm Muggeridge calls that "drooling melange" of Muzak. People want noise. They would far rather discuss than think, talk over their problems than pray about them, read a paperback about what somebody else thinks about the Bible than read the Bible.
We cannot stand stillness. Yet we need it. I wonder if the popularity of transcendental meditation is due to this felt need. Whatever may be said about TM's being a religion or not, the measure of success it seems to enjoy could be attributed in part to the simple fact that its devotees spend a certain amount of time daily in motionless silence. That can't hurt anybody.
As one of those who write the stuff that is for sale in the bookstores I referred to, I know that responsibility is laid upon me to provide real food. So I speak to myself--I must do my own "cooking." It is not fast food that I ought to provide for my reader. I must feed him, but in order to do that I must myself be fed. What I speak or write must come out of silence where only a still small voice can be heard.
I speak also to my reader. Seek what is good for the soul, even if it doesn't come in paperback. Read an old book once in a while. (Try P. T. Forsyth, The Principle of Authority, or Luther's Letters of Spiritual Counsel.) And once in a while lay aside the books and the tapes. For a set period of time be alone, be still. "The man who lives on me will live because of me," Jesus said. "This is the bread which came down from heaven."

Copyright© 1979, by Elisabeth Elliot
all rights reserved.

That which you feed...grows

I don't remember where I heard this, but lately it has become my motto. That which you feed...it grows. The converse is also true. What you don't feed...doesn't grow. Nearly every time I find myself in a downturn, I realize that I've been feeding the wrong things. I've been allowing myself to focus on what I don't have, and not embracing what I do have. I was feeding discontent, jealousy, and frustration. Instead, I'm choosing to starve those things. I'll feed joy and contentment. I'll count my blessings. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean everything will be perfect. I know those negative feelings will still surface. I just don't want to feed them anymore.

Hold Out Your Hand

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: A Lamp For My Feet
Scripture Reference:

Faith Is Holding Out Your Hand

Sometimes when I was a child my mother or father would say, "Shut your eyes and hold out your hand." That was the promise of some lovely surprise. I trusted them, so I shut my eyes instantly and held out my hand. Whatever they were going to give me I was ready to take. So it should be in our trust of our heavenly Father. Faith is the willingness to receive whatever He wants to give, or the willingness not to have what He does not want to give.

I am content to be and have what in Thy heart
I am meant to be and have.
--(George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul)

From the greatest of all gifts, salvation in Christ, to the material blessings of any ordinary day (hot water, a pair of legs that work, a cup of coffee, a job to do and strength to do it), every good gift comes down from the Father of Lights. Every one of them is to be received gladly and, like gifts people give us, with thanks.

Sometimes we want things we were not meant to have. Because He loves us, the Father says no. Faith trusts that no. Faith is willing not to have what God is not willing to give. Furthermore, faith does not insist upon an explanation. It is enough to know his promise to give what is good--He knows so much more about that than we do.

Going through the motions

Right now, this is my song. The one I flip on the radio hoping to hear, then crank loud enough to blow the speakers in my little Escort (it doesn't take much). The song I belt out, ignoring the fact that I'm off key as usual. This one speaks to me right.here.right.now.

How many of us are going through the motions, and how many are doing something extraordinary? And I don't think "extraordinary" even necessarily means "big". Mother Teresa (I think) said, "we can do no great things, only small things with great love."
Great.
Love.
"GreatER love has no man, than to lay down his life for a friend."
And not even necessarily in the physical sense of dying. We can lay down life in so many more ways. We can lay down our time, since it isn't truly ours anyways. We can lay down our finances- not ours either. We can lay down our desires, our hopes, our dreams.
*sigh*
"I don't wanna go through the motions
I don't wanna spend one more day
Without your all-consuming
Passion inside of me
I don't wanna spend my whole life asking
What if I had given everything
Instead of going through the motions?"
-Matthew West