Sunday Afternoon Tea - Finding peace in the kitchen

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Finding peace in the kitchen

Sunday Afternoon Tea

There was a day last week when it seemed the rain was unending.  As I looked out my kitchen window, the weeds were growing higher than the grass and a gloom seemed to cover the land.  For rain, when it is needed, creates a cozy atmosphere but one can have too much of a good thing.

I was weary and not a little... edgy.  I longed for a warm and sunny day with a breeze coming in through the open window.  However, since the forecast was for chilly and wet for the next few days, I decided to do something creative.  I baked a Bundt cake and set aside part of it to take to the friend who gave me the recipe many years ago when we were neighbors.

There is something about the precision required in baking that takes my mind off of the unpleasant side of life.  As I blend together the butter and sugar in the mixer, as I scoop flour and swipe a knife over the measuring cup to smooth it out, as I chop the apple for the cake and measure the cocoa, as I spray the pan with coconut oil to make certain it doesn't stick... the alchemy of baking takes me to another place.

As I was baking, it reminded me of two other women I knew who found their peace in the kitchen.

I was just talking to my sister recently about memories of her mother-in-law.  For I can't think of her without remembering what it was like to walk through the back door of that house in the country, with its' view of the river in front and the forest in the back, without thinking of the food which came out of that tiny kitchen.  Especially the baking...

My sister and her husband built a house next to her in-laws (and whether that is wise is a subject of debate but I digress) so many of my childhood memories are of the family gathering at my sister's place and eventually making our way to her mother-in-law's kitchen where she and my mother would chat while delicious aromas surrounded the conversation.

Every Christmas, one of our favorite gifts was the tin of candy and cookies she made as gifts for close friends and family.  For every bite was as delicious as anything made by the finest confectioners in Europe.  It is probably a good thing I didn't develop Juvenile Diabetes until middle age, long after she had gone on to her reward.  For I doubt there would have been any way to overcome temptation.

I didn't know it then but as I got older, I learned more about her and the unhappy circumstances of her life.  It explained a lot about her personality.  I also came to realize she found freedom and peace in that alchemy of baking, in the chopping of vegetables for soup, in the way familiar recipes made for family throughout the years gave comfort.  Not only to them but also to her.

The other woman I knew who found some peace in cooking and baking was my own mother-in-law.  Whenever I think of her, it is in her galley kitchen with a cigarette nearby as she was preparing a meal.  We didn't have much in common except cooking.  Like my sister's mother-in-law, her disappointments in life as well as tragedies affected her personality and at times I found her... difficult.  However, she showed love in the way she created magic with the simplest of ingredients.

Many of the recipe cards which have a home in the vintage card holder in my kitchen came from her.  Over the years, we shared many recipes and a few cookbooks.  I realize now that it was her way of reaching out when at times, she didn't know how.  Every meal at her home was simple but delicious.

I doubt either woman associated food with God.  I do.  I truly believe the way we find peace in the chopping and stirring and mixing and thinking of new ways to use ingredients is part of our original assignment to... create.  These women did not see themselves as artists by any means.  But I do.  For one can be an artist with sugar, flour, and butter just as much as when one mixes watercolors for a painting.

Except our canvas is a table and our art disappears in a matter of minutes.  Not unlike sandcastles at the beach.  Things of beauty to be enjoyed for the moment.  A way to share.  A way to show love.  Perhaps that is why we take photos of food.  Instinctively, we know it is Art... whether a gourmet feast or the simplest meal of a fried egg on fresh asparagus.

I have heard that the kitchen is the heart of the home.  Perhaps in many ways, it also functions as an altar.  For it is where many of us meet with God.  Where we pray. Where... in the very process of cooking and baking... we who are created in the image of the Creator... using the products of His earth... create.

Image:  Fresh Bred by Loren Entz

The Bundt cake recipe can be found... here.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Does God Give Us More than We Can Handle

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Does God Give Us More than We Can Handle

Sunday Afternoon Tea

I have written about the year we lived in a house by the pond.  The year of unemployment and great trials.  The year I had to remind myself to breath.  I can't tell you how many times I went to sleep at night telling God that if He wanted to take me before the morning that was just fine with me.

I have heard for years, no decades, that God does not give us anything more than we can handle.  To be honest, that saying always made me think I must not be a very good Christian for there were many trials which were far more demanding than I could handle.  Those which felt like heavy burdens crushing my faith to the floor.

Not a trial such as I had last week when I went on a local journey to have insulin after taking my last shot.  No, I'm talking about the trials which run on for weeks and months and even years.  When we understand why God tells us to "faint not" so many times in Scripture.

I have now been a Christian since oh, 1970-ish, and I'm learning that some truisms we hear are Truth and others may as well be from a book by Benjamin Franklin.  We have heard them so many times we think they must be true and after all, teachers are quoting Scripture.  However, have we looked closely at the context?

A few years ago I heard a teaching which set me free from the burden of it all.  Why I didn't realize it before was beyond my comprehension.  When a message came... whether on television or in a book, I can't recall... that what was most often preached about 1 Corinthians 10:13 was not necessarily God's Truth.

For you see, if you look at the verse in context what Paul is saying is actually this... God does not give you anything you cannot handle with Him.  We whom God calls "but dust" really do fall apart and shatter under enormous burdens of trials and temptations if we tried to walk through them in our own strength.

I thought back to that year by the pond and recalled the hours upon hours spent sitting on the small cement stairs in the front of the house.  With a view to the man made pond.  Surrounded mostly by forest.  That year was the reason my Bible opens to Psalms without trying.  To this day.  Well over a decade later.

As each day seemed to bring a trial that I could not handle, I ran to His presence.  I waited upon Him each day... Bible open and ready to listen.  He met me there on those stairs and as I walked the beach of Lake Michigan and as I hiked the forest trails with my (then) young son.  I absorbed Him as if my very life depended upon it.  For it did.

I had gone through trials previously but this was the first time I felt so alone, away from friends and extended family, with no sense whatsoever of where we would end up and how we would get there from here. I was completely unteathered to everything and everyone except my husband, son, and two old kitties.

That was the year of great pain but also amazing miracles.  When I will "tell the old, old Story" in Eternity... the story will definitely include that year.  When people tell me there is no God, I can say that I have a Story that proves He indeed does exist and that He cares about me and mine.

For that Bible verse does not say He never gives us anything we cannot handle.  Indeed it is inferring He allows everything we cannot handle.  Not without Him giving us a means of escaping each fiery dart the evil one sends our way.  The joy of the Lord is my strength!

Of course, He knows we cannot handle very much adversity in this earthly vessel which He describes as everyday pottery.  We are becoming fine china and that is only accomplished in the hottest of kilns... with an Artist watching closely that the carefully designed piece of art does not shatter with too much heat amidst the fire.

I often say to family and friends... perhaps more than they care to hear... that I cannot possibly imagine living in today's world without knowing the Lord.  Without the presence of the Holy Spirit not just around me but in me.  I have learned through experience to give Him the "what ifs" of life.  For the Word tells me that no matter what happens, He is not off in another galaxy with no thought of this planet.  On the contrary, he notices when a sparrow falls to the ground.

This is why in the Book of James, we are told to rejoice in trials for they are proving our faith.  I can't say I have learned to rejoice in them, yet.  However, I do know when God is allowing something extremely uncomfortable and frustrating in my life... to pay attention for He is looking for my response.  Will I tremble in fear or trust Him?

I've done both.  I've lost sleep at night worrying but thankfully those times have become less and less through the years.  I visually see myself taking the trial and setting it at His feet in the Throne Room and then try not to take it back.

There is an old saying that is Truth... "If you can't trust His works then trust His character".   For He is Love and He does love you.

As you draw near to Him and listen for what He wants you to learn in these trials, you will find that peace that passes all understanding as the very Creator of the universe makes you to be strong enough to run your race and reach the end of your journey hearing those longed for words, "Well done good and faithful servant".  Not with your own human strength but with His.

Image:  Nostalgia-Mini by Clement Micarelli

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Learning from Lark Rise

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Learning from Lark Rise

Sunday Afternoon Tea

There is a scene in the final episode of Lark Rise to Candleford when Queenie is looking out upon the horizon and sees, not her beloved Lark Rise as she knows it... but smoke stacks and factories covering the land.  She understands that she has been shown what is coming in the not too distant future.  She knows there is no stopping it.

I thought of the Lark Rise series this past week and the nonfiction books upon which it was based.  For there came a knock at our front door one day and my husband walked out to talk to the visitor.  (We must do so with a house cat who thinks it would be lovely to escape to the forest.)  He came back inside after about five minutes and said I should talk to our neighbor, for he didn't have the answer she needed.

As it turned out, the woman lived on the road that leads to the Bypass and was looking for the owners of a cat which was allowed to run free and causing problems in her yard.  Thankfully, I could assure her our very petite cat not only stayed inside but would run from any threat to her furry person. There were also no kitties by that description who made their way through my backyard recently.

Somehow, the conversation drifted from cats to the land around us.  She had returned permanently to the area about the same time we came back.  We talked about the changes and how each would visit "back home" and not recognize the place.  Where there were fields and family farms, now there were subdivisions and traffic.

She grew up in the house where she now lives so she knew the history of the area. At one time this was a very small town, no bigger than Lark Rise.  Just down the road, where a new house sits, there once was a blacksmith shop for the town. For even in a very small place, one needed a blacksmith when horses were the main form of transportation. Not all that long ago, really.

I lived my early childhood years in such a very small rural "town" that consisted of some houses and a grain elevator where the train would stop to pick up train cars filled with corn on its' way to the City.  The last time I drove through the area, it was still mainly a grain elevator and a few houses.  Although the old farm we lived in was no longer there. However, unlike the neighborhood where I currently live, it still retains its' name and a minuscule place on the map. 

It makes me wonder how a place existed and then it didn't. How a town on a map can just disappear? Although... maybe I do understand.  For my front porch guest also found out, quite by accident, that in the area's 10-20 Plan (of which I had no idea it existed), our land is scheduled to become part of a new highway. Someday.  Most likely after I'm gone but within the reach of her lifetime.

Like Queenie, I can see what is coming.  Not from some sort of supernatural vision but from the front pages of our newspaper.  It is all about progress and transportation and getting people from one place to another as fast as possible.  But what about the farms and the forests and the wetlands where the sandhill cranes stop on their migration?  Already I miss the Canadian geese flying over as they migrate.  One hardly hears them these past few years and at one time they were the sounds of Autumn.

I wonder if we are a people on the verge of a national nervous breakdown because we have lost our connection to the way God intended us to live?  In our rush to the large cities... and in trying to become one... we no longer hear the echoes of Eden. 

I know we live in a most fallen of worlds.  I am aware of the imperfections of life.  For also on this land, before the tiny town existed, this was the home of a great Native American nation.  I also grew up playing on the very ground where great battles took place.  One of the "Trail of Tears" goes through this land.  We have been far from Eden for millenia. 

But is it truly progress to live in our cars and spend our days looking at a screen?  Are we moving so fast as a society that our soul can no longer keep up with the speed of life?  I don't think it can be stopped for what we are seeing is a symptom rather than the cause.  But I can slow down my life and make choices to step back... a little here and a little there.

I slow down when I sip that first cup of coffee in the morning.  I slow down when I chop vegetables and make soup from scratch instead of opening a can.  I slow down when I must wash dishes by hand so I enjoy the aroma as Mrs. Meyer's Peony scent fills the sink as the hot water hits the soap.  I slow down when I polish the thrift store silver service or rub lemon oil into the antique furniture.

I slow down when I plant a flower or herbs on the deck. I slow down when I choose to read a book instead of turning on the television.  I slow down when I sweep the kitchen floor.  I slow down when I open the window to the Study and actually listen to the birdsong coming through from the forest.  How long has it been since you have enjoyed a free concert?

There will be no perfect days or perfect place until this world has been restored.  However, we can accept what is good and hold it to us each day.  Not longing for the good old days but instead grasping to us what is precious about today.  Taking the time to really slow down and notice our journey on earth.  This is not a dress rehearsal.  This is life.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - A Life in Books

Sunday Afternoon Tea - A Life in Books

Sunday Afternoon Tea

These past few weeks, coinciding with what appears to be an unexpected Midwestern monsoon season, I've been spending my free reading time submerged in the England of post WW1 to post WW2, in the midst of the Eliot family.  I've lived at Damerosehay, The Herb of Grace, and the drafty old Vicarage... and I'm the better person for it.

You have heard the old adage that "you are what you eat", well I believe just as true is the statement, "you are what you read".  Especially the kind of books you feed on the earliest and the most over the years.  I am convinced my love of detective and murder mysteries has nothing to do with a dark side of my personality (although some may wonder) but instead that the first book love I can remember were the Nancy Drew books I read over and over until each plot was memorized.

I understood this even as a young mother and when most educators were telling me that it didn't matter what my child read... as long as they were reading... I didn't agree at all.  While not a helicopter mother in reality (much), I was when it came to the books my children read.  I understood how they formed your thinking when young so what came into our home to be read had to have my approval... with the child having more freedom to choose their own books as they grew older.

This proved a challenge with my very prolific reading daughter who, like her mother, thought an hour in a bookstore or the library to be just the best of time spent.  However, I was happy to keep my literary ear to the ground, always in search of the best of books for her. She introduced me to the Anne books.

It was easier with my son who, as a young boy, preferred nonfiction books with lots of pictures of machines, animals, and tornadoes (no, really... he went through a weather stage).  They instilled a love of books as much as my daughter's chapter books she read.  When he was older, he came to love great French literature that I had only heard of when I saw the movies.

The books my children read and we enjoyed as a family became part of our vocabulary and I think even our heritage.  For instance, Dad will always be known as Puddleglum (by his own admission) and if we say "Aslan is on the move", we all know the meaning.

My daughter and I searched for Pooh sticks when living in Holland, Michigan. We want our hospitality to be equal to Mole or Mrs. Beaver.  I think my husband can still recite the entire book of Good Night Moon from memory, as I could (at one time) I Am A Bunny.  Baby books.  Children's books.  Classics read at bedtime.  Memories of an entire lifetime.

I didn't read carefully in my twenties.  Oh, I'm not talking about smutty books for I didn't read them.  But I did belong to the Harlequin Book Club where I received a box of paperbacks each month.  They were just silly romances that I could go through like potato chips but I began to feel God's tugging that they were not the best books for me to read.  I don't know how they are now but in the 70s, they were the equivalent of literary junk food.

I wasn't raised in a home of readers so I didn't have much information growing up about great literature.  I remember hearing of Jane Austen the first time in my Junior year of high school, taking an English Lit class.  We read Pride & Prejudice and it was definitely love at first read.

I noticed what my Christian mentors were reading... both in real life and in their books... and began reading what they did. Some theology books may have been beyond my grasp but I read what I could and learned what Bible teachers I could understand.  I also devoured books about books by authors whose taste I could trust. 

I'm thankful that there were very good books that came my way in my teens such as The Robe and The Silver Chalice from which popular movies had been made.  They helped give me a mental picture of Bible days in the way Exodus by Leon Uris helped me understand the relationship between the Holocaust and the founding of Israel just a few years later.

Good books make us feel like we are actually living in the pages.

As a working mother, most of the reading was nonfiction books by my favorite authors such as Edith Schaeffer, Emily Barnes, and Anne Ortlund.  I also loved books about corporations and corporate life.  Loved them!  So when I stood in Muir Woods one Saturday afternoon on a business trip to San Francisco and I knew God was telling me it was time to leave my job... it had to be a God thing to do it (albeit it took a year and a change of circumstances in my corporation).

I say that as a reminder that we can often tell our passion, our gifting so to speak, by what we are drawn to read.  On my book shelves already were books about homemaking, decorating, early childhood development, cooking (that may be considered an obsession rather than an interest), and being a godly woman in the current society.  However, I held on to my books about corporations for a good ten years.  Especially my favorites.  For the way organizations worked was an interest even if I didn't get paid for it, anymore.

Then there were the years when we chose to homeschool our son.  Any bibliophile homeschooler (and most are by default) will tell you that while you value your child's education, it is also a really good excuse to buy books.  Some of my all time favorite books were written by other homeschooling mothers and fathers and the books we read for learning were interesting.  That was when I first read many childhood classics.

I eventually developed more of an affection for good fiction.  From the James Herriot books to the Jan Karon Mitford books to the Miss Read books to Elizabeth Goudge and D. E. Stevenson.  All authors recommended by bookish friends.  A lesson learned over the years is if I find one book by an author I thoroughly enjoyed, then I'll read more by the same author.

Some of the fiction books are classics while others are light fiction, meant to take me away to a more innocent place or time.  Some are old friends that have been read many times while others are sitting on the shelf just waiting for their turn to be enjoyed.

For I have found over the years that quite often I am drawn to a book and when I have the opportunity to purchase it, I do so and then give it a home on my bookshelves.  Then... quite often... there comes a time when I'm looking through my books and there it is... at just the exact time I need that particular book.

I needed to reread The Bird in the Tree, Pilgrim's Inn (titled The Herb of Grace in England), and The Heart of the Family these past few weeks.  Finally reading them in the order they were published, not only did I enjoy spending time again with the Eliot family but the lessons they were learning were much what I needed in the 21st Century.

That is what great books do you know.  They invite us in and then while we are enjoying their story, we are learning about character and integrity and courage and patience and often how to live life with faith.  That is why I am careful about the authors I choose to read for their worldview comes through their stories and when well done... they tell a tale that makes me a better person for reading their work.

Image: Time For Reading by Judy Gibson

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The Lovely that Remains

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The Lovely that Remains

Sunday Afternoon Tea

I have spent a lot of time recently viewing the dogwood tree through the kitchen window.  Each year it takes my breath away as the white blossoms appear to glow in the dark.  Even yesterday in the midst of very heavy rainfall and high winds, the dogwood was standing strong and lovely. 

I was quickly washing dishes as a storm approached (I came within seconds of having my hands in soapy water when the house was hit by lightening before!), washing and rinsing and gazing all at the same time.  The county was under a warning and I knew I must hurry if I wanted the kitchen clean before heading to the sofa to read but the Beauty of that tree was quite distracting.

Now I must admit, the tree is no longer as lovely as it once was for the men from the rural electric co-op came through a few years ago and cut off branches near the power lines.  (The photo above is not my tree.)  Although we begged them to be careful (as did our "across the fence" neighbor who can view the tree from his house), they took off enough that the tree appears lopsided.  We were not amused.

However, each spring since then I choose to look at the lovely that remains.  For in that lopsided tree is a lesson I must continually learn... often I have to look past that which is imperfect and settle my gaze on the Beauty that remains.

Normally I'm a very hopeful person and I look to see God's presence in every situation and every "thing".  Even when the snow is on the ground and the wind is blowing icy on my face as I walk down the gravel road to get the mail, I look at the pop of red in the midst of white which is my neighbor's barn.  If the snow is fresh, I stop (after pulling the hood of my down coat over my ears) and view the silent forest covered in pure white, the trees creating sculptures with their lack of foliage.  Beautiful...

However, there are seasons when I struggle with grasping that which is lovely even when it is all around me.  Sometimes there is a reason and I don't try to push the joy in a time of sorrow.  For instance, this past Christmas was wrapped in deep grief after my beloved Victoria died suddenly.  I love Christmas so I decorated as usual and listened to music and watched Christmas movies and did some baking... but I did not force joy.  No, there is a time for joy and a time for grief and they do not always coexist.

As the months have progressed since that time, I found myself increasingly sad and even those things which usually bring delight appeared dimmer than usual.  For instance, I usually bring in almost every daffodil blooming on the property and place them in a vase to enjoy.  This year I only made two bouquets and left the rest where they grew.  They were just as lovely but I didn't feel the joy I usually do as I view them in the cut glass vase.

I noticed the same thing as the crab apple bloomed next to the garage.  Its' scent was wonderful and the blossoms were such a pretty color but what I noticed most this year was that the crab apple is slowly dying and soon must be cut down.  At least it is not a threat to the house as is the black walnut tree in the backyard which is also living it its' final years.

While Victoria's death affected the Christmas season, I realized that was just part of what was making me feel so sad.  Adopting Florentine has helped a great deal and while she will never replace Victoria, she has made her own place in our heart with her kittenish antics.  No... I think Victoria's death just pushed me over the edge of something that had been coming on for at least a year.

The human heart can only take in so much darkness before it dims the eyes of how we view the world.  The presidential election was brutal and as a conservative Christian, I had never felt so much hate before.  I still receive comments from time to time here on the blog but I don't publish them.  There is a certain cleansing in the ability to push a delete button.

I have mentioned already having to un-follow people on Facebook and Instagram... some of them people that I have followed and enjoyed reading for years. I even had to remove a few blog links from the sidebar when people I had been able to find agreement with in areas of life such as gardening, whole foods, homeschooling, etc. began to delve into social and political rants.

The world news was just as bad and there was not a day that went by in which it seemed some atrocity was committed and announced on the 24 hour news cycle.  There was just as much anger in the world as there was here at home.  More in those parts of the world where terrorism and war was already raging.

I came to realize that I was world-weary and tired. I was tired of counting pennies at the grocery store while I watched people who make a living pretending to be someone else (aka: actors) getting paid millions and complaining about their life.  I was tired of decorating shows on HGTV with sniveling people who would not buy a house because the kitchen was thirty years old. I was tired of politicians (all of them by this point), and tired of pastors who did not believe the Bible, and tired of this rainy spring, and tired of... life the way it is in a fallen world.

Thankfully, I have enough of a sanguine personality that I don't feel comfortable living with gloom. It brings me down not only emotionally but physically.  I live with Puddleglum so one of us has to be optimistic.  So I began to look for the lovely in situations where it was possible and slowly found the sadness lifting.

I also had to be realistic that some of us feel tired because we are tired.  I remind my husband once in awhile that there is a reason they send young men to war.  The  younger one is, the physically stronger one is, the more likely one feels fearless and charges ahead into the unknown. 

We also have something else that carries us along... or should I say Someone.  The verse which constantly nudged at me these past few months was, "Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world" (1 John 4:4). 

If I feel uncomfortable in this world, it is because this is not my permanent Home.  I think I've never understood that as I have these past couple of years.  I will continue to look for all that is lovely in the midst of the darkness and do that which He asks me to do in this world but realizing all the time that nothing is ever going to be perfect.  We grasp the good we can find in the imperfection.

Like my lopsided dogwood tree, it is just as lovely as it always was if I focus my eyes on that which is left and not wish for what is missing.  Perhaps that lesson alone is why God allowed rural electric men with chainsaws to invade my backyard.  I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Image:  Not my dogwood tree but one that shows what it used to look like.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - When the World Seems Crazy

Sunday Afternoon Tea - When the World Seems Crazy

Sunday Afternoon Tea

Recently I needed to run quite a few errands, taking me from my home in the northern part of the county to the far southern part of town and back.  I decided the only way I could accomplish this feat and be home at a reasonable time was to take the new By-Pass.  A road for which I've had a challenged relationship since it opened.

By taking the new By-Pass, I would cut my travel time by at least half.  However, I've become lost taking it twice and the last time I was really lost. I mean, out in the middle of country roads lost.  As it turned out, my husband had missed a turn at the same place and told me where I went wrong.  Let's just say whoever put the traffic signs up should have been more specific.

So to save time, I decided to take the new road.  After all, it would be good to stop avoiding it.  Along the way I saw familiar places in the distance.  When I crossed a bridge over the river and then saw a turn off for a familiar road, I could envision the house where my sister once lived not too far away.  It was like finding a "You Are Here' sign at the Mall.  I could envision a birds eye view of where I was from my house, from Bonnie's old house, the river, and if I took the correct turn... my destination.

Once I had a good idea where I was, I figured out I probably should stay in the left lane so I didn't miss that important turn off... yet, again.  Then I had time to enjoy the scenery and ponder.  Since it is a new road, there are no fast food signs, businesses, or entrances into factories.  Instead one mostly passed by fields and forests with the occasional glimpse of the airport or a smokestack in the distance for a few miles.

I'm pleased to say after (finally) turning on the correct road... you know, the one with the misleading sign... I realized the road I was now on was exactly where I needed to be.  The first stop in my errand was just a couple streets away.  What is more, the next time I take that By-Pass, I won't be quite so apprehensive. Now that I know where the signs lead me.

Sometimes the changes in our world leave me as confused as that misleading sign.  Instead of being where I planned, I'm lost in some outer part of Today where little looks as I once knew it.  It's the same place in which I grew up but not the same world... and realizing that can make me tense and uncertain.

Oh, I'm not talking about Russian planes close to Alaska.  It is just a reminder of the Cold War and those of us above a certain age grew up with news reports of Russia vs. America.  My much older brother fought in the Korean war so that battle has been raging for decades.  Albeit a whole lot more dangerous with nukes involved.

No, it is not even the wars and rumors of wars that are getting to me.  It is the change in morality and what the church looks like.  How those of us who take a more orthodox view of the Bible are deemed haters and if we are all for immigration but want people coming into the country to be vetted (as they always were), we do not care for homeless children in Syria.

We have let ourselves be defined by those who control the media but hate the church... and unfortunately sometimes it is even people within the church that throw stones at us. If one only knows a picture of the world by what they see on TV, in movies, or on social media...

The world seems to have lost its ever loving mind.

Recently I was reading through Romans 1:28-32 in the NIV but the Phillips translation (I believe that is what Elisabeth Elliot used) says it best... 

Moreover, since they considered themselves too high and mighty to acknowledge God, he allowed them to become the slaves of their degenerate minds, and to perform unmentionable deeds. They became filled with wickedness, rottenness, greed and malice; their minds became steeped in envy, murder, quarrelsomeness, deceitfulness and spite. 

They became whisperers-behind-doors, stabbers-in-the-back, God-haters; they overflowed with insolent pride and boastfulness, and their minds teemed with diabolical invention. They scoffed at duty to parents, they mocked at learning, recognized no obligations of honor, lost all natural affection, and had no use for mercy. 

More than this—being well aware of God’s pronouncement that all who do these things deserve to die, they not only continued their own practises, but did not hesitate to give their thorough approval to others who did the same.

Reading these verses brought me peace.  Ummm... those verses?  The verses where we are told the world is going to go crazy?  Yes!  Because it means that... at this time and at this place... where God allowed you and me to be born... He knew it was going to go crazy.

For you see my friends, we are not to look at the past with longing.  Actually, there were plenty of trials back then even when morality was more the norm and the average person at least respected the Ten Commandments.  We are to look forward for this is the day for which we were created.

Whatever gifts  you have been given, no matter how young or how old you are, you were born "for such a time as this".  We are just passing through, we are pilgrims and sojourners in this land.  We are, like Abraham, searching for the City whose Builder and Maker is God.

We are not to long for this world to be perfect, we are to long for that Perfection which is to come.  

What are we to do now?  Well, on one hand we are to stand by our orthodox values and not give in to what people want to manipulate us to believe just so people will like us.  At the same time, we are to walk like Jesus walk... in love and not anger.

I know it is a balance remaining true to the Word in our beliefs but always defaulting to walking in Love.  It has been done before and the One who managed to do it was stoned and crucified by those people for whom He gave so much love. 

But He has given you a Place in this world, not only gifts but a real PLACE.  Where you are living right this very moment.  Draw near to Jesus and then ask how to show Him to this crazy messed up world.  It will take every skill, every talent, every bit of wisdom and grace you have.  Even then you will have to renew your strength every morning by spending time with Him and His Word.

Oh, I also suggest the occasional nap and perhaps coffee first thing in the morning.  Just saying.  Reality you know.

Image:  Cotswolds Evening by Robert Duncan

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Easter and Peace

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Easter and Peace

Sunday Afternoon Tea

I have always loved Easter, from the time I was a little girl getting a new dress (which included a hat and white gloves by the way) to today as I get ready to pop a ham in the oven for our mid-day celebration... expecting my youngest granddaughter as a very special guest.

There is such a homey aroma coming from the kitchen as a ham bakes.  If you have ever put a house up for sale, your Realtor may have advised you to either bake cookies just before showings or to put a ham in the oven to slowly bake.  There is a reason for that...

I wrote last week about the practical ways I have been perusing peace in a time of wars and rumors of wars.  Today I'd like to share the more "spiritual" attempts to find peace.  By "spiritual" I mean Jesus and not the Oprah brand of spirituality. How appropriate that this post would be written on Easter Sunday, the day of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

First and always foremost... Peace is a Person.  The Lamb of God, who was born to die as a replacement for us on that cross.  Only He who knew no sin could stand in for those of us who are sons and daughters of the fallen Adam.  He took back the Keys to the Kingdom and overcame death once and for all.

Without Easter there is no true Christianity.  Everything hinged on that first Easter when the stone was rolled away.  If Jesus had not been raised from the dead, he would have been no different than any other religious leader.  There would have been a tomb where one could pay their respect.  Instead it is empty and we give our worship.

I don't have any problem calling the day of His Resurrection Easter Sunday.  For words only have the meaning one assigns and I believe the word Easter is lovely.  When our kids were young, we did the whole Easter basket thing but then again, I have enough of my grandmother's Irish blood in me that I love the idea of rabbits who bring chocolate, mice who live in tree stumps and wear pinafores, and that Mrs. Beaver is a role model for showing hospitality.

If one knows the Real Thing, then the little extras like chocolate bunnies and colored eggs can never take away from what is important... Who is important.  Not as long as our children grow up knowing that the true meaning of Easter is not candy but that Jesus arose from the grave so we can live with Him after our journey here is finished.  
 
When I need peace.. I usually open the Psalms.  When the days seem long and my patience is short and fear is present... I always open to the Psalms.  There is just something about the Songbook of the Hebrews that brings peace.  The Bible I've used for twenty-plus years opens to the Psalms without trying.

Something else I've been doing lately is to seek wisdom from those who have gone before me... those men and women of God who have passed through wars and rumors of wars and adversity... and remained true to their Lord.  I don't have a written plan as such but I've been allowing myself the luxury of looking through my bookshelves until I find the mentor I need at the moment.

I'll talk more about specifics on my next Book Talk post but it has been good to brush the dust off of some books where I've found wisdom before.  I know some people turn to podcasts or online articles but I'm a bookish sort who loves reading a book that shows chocolate stains of where I read it while snacking one afternoon or water marks splashed from a long ago hot bath such as my old copy of Hidden Art.

I've been sending up a lot of short prayers throughout the day that keep me anchored to Peace Himself.  Sometimes I'll just say the name of Jesus to remind myself it is all about Him. I am finding it necessary to make a quick connection throughout the day as well as longer times of prayer.

For you see, you don't get His peace from hoping for it. You get that peace as He gives it to you when you spend time with Him.  That's why it is described as peace that passes all understanding.  It is how you can go to bed at night thinking you can't make it through another day and be honest with Him about how you feel because He knows all about it, anyway.

Then you awake the next morning and are amazed that you are full of peace and faith and courage to meet another day.  It wasn't you, other than asking Him for these things... that renewal you feel is all Him.  His mercies are new every morning. 

Just as He breathed life into Adam... He breathes new life into you.  Every day.  New hope.  New faith.  New mercies.

Happy Easter!

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Simply Seeking Peace

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Simply Seeking Peace

Sunday Afternoon Tea

This has been a week when the rumors of war screamed from our newscasts.  I was watching a TV show when the Breaking News came on every major network that the U. S. had bombed Syria.  It didn't have the level of shock I felt as when I first heard Russia had moved into that country but it was certainly unsettling.  The war drums have been rattling around the world for awhile now.

Later I will talk about some things I'm doing spiritually to strengthen my peace but below are some practical resources I'm working through.

I have learned to pray for those events out of my ability to directly affect... like wars and rumors of wars... and trust that God indeed has the whole world in His hands.  The Bible tells us what the world will be like before Jesus returns and that lens becomes more in focus every day.  Only God knows when those events will take place.  I have read that many Christians living prior to WWI and WWII thought they were living in that time.

I have written that this year I am once again trying to Live Life on Purpose and part of this includes seeking peace whenever possible... when doing so is in my control.  I am running to that which brings peace and equally running away from those things which steal my peace.  Obviously there are peace stealers that I can't ignore, people especially.

The first area within my control is the use of technology.  Technology can both bring peace and take it away.  For instance, I knew my daughter and son-in-law would be driving through the part of the country where severe weather was occurring on their way to a wedding in South Carolina last week... and a text from her saying they were now safely out of the storms brought peace.

On or about that same day, I stopped following a person in charge of a ministry on Facebook after receiving news reports of atrocities by ISIS supporters occurring in the world, one right after another.  Every single day. Her ministry is a good one and I understand she has been equipped by God to shed light on what is happening but I just can't handle reports showing up continuously in my Facebook feed.  Other than praying, I can't do anything about it.

I have unfollowed at least a third (maybe more) of the people I once followed on Instagram during and after the elections and kept only a few sources of news on my Facebook feed since that time.  I get plenty of news and from a variety of sources to know what is happening.  It has been a recent revelation for me that I do not need to know everything happening in the world.

Creative endeavors is the second area I've been tweaking for peace... or rather, making room for enjoying them more.  I brushed off my scrapbook journal this week to start working on it again.  I've kept a scrapbook journal in one format or another for at least twenty years.

The most recent style was inspired by Jewels (whose blog I still miss very much).  I had set aside scrapbook journaling when it wasn't enjoyable, anymore.  I knew I would come back to scrapbook journaling again so I kept everything I use to create them.  Most of the items are the same as card making, which I still enjoy.

On the other hand, I gave a friend my sewing supplies and fabric after I realized that phase of creativity was behind me.  Sometimes it is just time to let the past go and get on with those creative endeavors which now bring us joy.  We change over time and so do our hobbies.

My third decision... I'm now even more careful about the media I choose to bring into my world.  Even books I decide to review are more carefully chosen.  I still appreciate books that inform but I've also opted for more simpler books of late.  Now there is a balance between serious and lighthearted, which we all need.

There are numerous bookshelves in our house. Shelves are in every room but the bathroom and we'd probably have a shelf in there if the kitty litter box didn't need that space.  I was able to collect books for a long time by attending book sales as a Friend of the Library member, most for $1.00 each.  We still pay $10.00 a year to belong even though we don't attend every sale these days.

When life is particularly stressful, that is the time I like to reread old friends.  I've decided to reread Elizabeth Goudge's Eliot Trilogy when my current stack of books is finished.  I love these books and explain more about them below.  Honestly, I'm tempted to always be rereading books but then I'd miss a new friend.

I have collected favorite movies and TV shows on DVD over the years and I've received them as gifts.  It is quite wonderful to have old favorites available to watch when I need a mental vacation.  Amazon Instant Video has not only movies but episodes of some TV series now available individually.  They can be purchased and then watched anywhere when downloaded to a device that takes the Amazon Video app. I met a woman who travels a lot and she kept her favorite movie downloaded to watch when stressed.

I continue to make Beauty in the home a priority so it is my fourth thought out decision.  Which is why I brought azaleas in last week before the possible snow and freeze hit.  Before that, for a few days I had just two daffodils in a vase next to the sink.  I always need an environment that provides Beauty but it becomes more essential when the world is not so beautiful.

I've been using Mrs. Meyers Lilac hand soap in the kitchen because I'm always washing my hands when cooking.  There is a citrus-lemon grass scented 7th Generation dish soap next to the sink right now but a Lilac scented Mrs. Meyers dish soap is in reserve.  Lilac is a favorite scent so I did a quick re-do of grocery priorities to purchase them a couple weeks ago when Meijers had them available.

Those frugal luxuries are necessary, especially when we are on a tight budget.  It doesn't cost much more to buy Mrs. Meyers dish soap than Dawn but the aromas make me happy when doing dishes... and I do a lot of dishes by hand.  I was pleased to find the Mrs. Meyers dish soap beat out top contenders in a test, including Dawn!

I moved the CD player from the kitchen to the study a couple weeks ago.  Now that the study is warming up each day, I can enjoy listening to favorite music or turn on Moody radio to listen to a program. (I reserve K-Love for listening to in the van.)  It will go back into the kitchen come say... November.  I can listen to downloaded music on the iPad but I have a lot of CDs purchased throughout the years I also love to revisit.

The lawn and garden is fifth on the list and it will be my next endeavor as the weather gets warmer.  The first efforts to bring any beauty to this part of my world will be to clear out, clean, prune, and generally do away with lawn and garden 2016.  Then, as I can afford it, flowers will be added to the deck and veggies and herbs planted in the garden. Although most of the time that doesn't happen until May.

For all I love the way it ends up looking, this area of Beauty is my most frustrating as I'm always battling what I want to do vs. what I can do (for various reasons).  However, doing nothing at all is not an option.  Ever.

I know God does not want us to turn our back on the hurting world.  He equips each one of us to do what we can and then we work within that grace.  There are people who have been equipped to run into the the very areas that darkness currently holds to bring the Light to those people.  Others have been gifted to create a ministry that helps the poor and brings redemption to inner cities.

However, most of us are not called to do great things for Christ.  Instead we are to bring Beauty... and Peace... to the simple, normal, everyday areas of life.  As we bake a birthday cake, take fresh bread to a neighbor, listen to a friend over coffee, or read a Bible story to a child...we  are taking Him to the world... that which is right around us and where we live.

For the big stuff like wars and famine and ISIS and earthquakes and mudslides and all that is completely out of our hands... we can pray.  A lot.  Often.  Believing He intervenes and knowing all turns out well in the end.  Maranatha.

Mentioned in this Post
Frugal Luxuries is a favorite book by the lovely Tracey McBride.
Frugal Luxuries, website... here.
Frugal Luxuries book is available... here.
Fugal Luxuries by the Season book is available... here.

The Eliot Trilogy
I read Pilgrim's Inn first many years ago since it is what was recommended as an introduction to Goudge books.  It is still one of my favorite books.  However, it is the second book of the trilogy so you do miss the backstory.  I read the first book, The Bird in the Tree, a year or two after reading Pilgrim's Inn.

I read the third book in the trilogy, The Heart of the Family, a couple years later after hearing some people didn't care for it.  When it became available to download on Kindle (much cheaper than when only pricey used old books were available), I downloaded it and read it then.  I immediately reread the book.  I loved it.  I will say that I think it is a book to be best appreciated as one grows older for that is one of the themes of that book.

So this time, I am going to finally read the books in order:
The Bird in the Tree (Book 1)... here.
Pilgrim's Inn (Book 2)... here.
The Heart of the Family (Book 3)... here.

Disclaimer:  Most links to Amazon are Associate links in which I do receive a small amount of credit when a purchase is made.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The influence of a friend

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The influence of a friend

Sunday Afternoon Tea

When my friend messaged me to tell me she was sending an email, I knew what it might be about.  BB and I have been friends since the 1990s, my oldest (as in how long we've known each other) Internet friend, including Kathy.

Her email was to tell me Kathy had been rushed to the hospital and was probably not going to make it.  Kathy hasn't been online since about the time this blog was started and we communicated through phone calls and letters.  I deeply dislike talking on the phone but BB and Kathy talk quite often.  I think Kathy knew how much I cared for her because she was one of a couple people I did chat with on the phone, my daughter being the other.

A couple days after receiving the email, Kathy's husband called us to say she had passed away during the night.  It was a bittersweet moment.  She had been in ill health and ready to meet Jesus for a long time.  She was where she wanted to be and we were left wondering about a world without her.

We were an unlikely set of sister-friends with me living in the Midwest, BB in Texas, and Kathy in what she liked to call "the third world country of New Mexico", the land of Hatch chilies and rattle snakes and scorpions.

She was a master story teller and perhaps the funniest person I have known.  For instance, there was the time when she was still able to email when she told me about her new pet.  From the way she talked about it, I thought it was a dog.  I mean, for months I thought it was a dog.  Then one day I realized her new pet was... a cow.  Albeit a cow that thought it was a dog.

Perhaps the greatest gift Kathy gave me was when I was going through the period of intense trials when she told me often she believed God was allowing me to go through great tribulations so I could help others go through the Great Tribulation.  Such conversations always ended up with a theological discussion about the possibility of the Church going through "the Tribulation" and how I most definitely did not want to be on the planet at that time.

However, I knew what she was saying. He was teaching and training me to be there for others when they experienced hard times.  That was to be my message.  That was to be my ministry. It was the answer to my "why" prayers.  Kinda.  Sorta.

I thought of those words this past year as I've watched my daughter go through her own time of intense trials with the house search and other "little foxes" along the way.  She would call or message to talk because she knew I had walked that path before.  Some would probably tell her to be happy she had a good temporary house, her husband has a job, and they will eventually get through this.  Those words don't mean much when you are in the thick fog of uncertainty.

Stephanie and I are both nesters, people who care about Home and growing our roots deeply into that Place God lands us.  I knew that feeling of being in limbo... untethered... unsure where the future would take us.  How can we make plans or write lists when everything is so unsure?  What about Thanksgiving and Christmas and our familiar stuff?  It was as hard for her as it was for me years before and all those little foxes, those small trials in comparison to the house search, seemed magnified when going through that level of uncertainty.

Through the years I have thought of Kathy's words as I write, especially here on the Sunday Tea blog posts. This has never been a blog which only talks about the pretty stuff of life, no matter how much I love fine china and tea parties.  For I know that life is hard.  Darn hard.  But I know that God never wastes any trial and He will bring us through as we depend on Him and His Word.

I also know that the trials are made easier when we wrap an apron around our waist and cook a simple meal or bake cookies for those we love.  Along the path of our journey from birth to that time He calls us home, we need the friendships provided along the way.  I'm thankful for the technology that allows close friendships with people I would have never met in real life... starting with BB and Kathy and continuing to those friendships made through this blog.

Someday we will meet each other in person and I'm happy to say at that time we will be perfectly lovely inside and out.  No more battling the flesh as we stomp our feet and pout or trying to hide those extra pounds.  I can hardly wait to see my son and my mom and hopefully my pets and my friends.  Kathy will be there with her beloved kitty, Pudge.  I don't know about the cow... but anything is possible in Eternity.

Image: Family Circle by Lee Stroncek

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Leaving the Hygge Behind

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Leaving the Hygge Behind

Sunday Afternoon Tea

Although I subscribe to Tsh's podcast, The Art of Simple, I had bookmarked the page for the Hygge podcast (where one can listen online) because it had the show notes.  I love the whole concept of hygge (pronounced who-gah) for living in a cozy and beautiful environment is probably the subtitle of my life.

One good thing about being forced to sit for awhile was finally listening to this particular podcast.  I enjoyed it very much and even though I have read books about hygge, I learned something.  Having said that... when we were hit with more snow last week and my daughter's area had a second huge snowstorm in a row... I told her I was all hygge-d out. 

It is time to put away the warm and cozy stuff until October when I will be longing for it again.  I am ready for warmer temperatures and opening the window for a breeze and planting stuff and the return of the shades of green.  I adore candles in the dark months but come Spring, I have one sitting on my desk for the scent and that's it. 

Although I am glad it has been cold for I'm not quite ready to give up making soup.  As I type, I have turkey stock simmering on the stove.  The turkey I'd defrosted for a week was roasted today, all the meat plucked off in much the same way my mother would pluck the feathers off a hen. Florie sat at my feet waiting for pieces of turkey to drop "accidentally".  

In cold weather, both of my stockpots are stored on a bench in the Family Room to have them near.  One was brought into the kitchen for the turkey to simmer into rich stock, which will be transformed to soup tomorrow.  There is something about making stock from something that would otherwise be thrown away that does my heart good.

I love the cold months when the simmering soup steams up the Kitchen window and the aroma of supper can be breathed in as soon as one walks through the front door.  That's hygge-ish if there ever was anything warm and cozy.

However, it is almost time to trade in hot drinks and soup and fuzzy socks and flannel sheets and warm throws and the sun setting below the horizon at 5:00 for long hours of sunlight and flowers. I look forward to that first really warm day when I can open the kitchen window and feel a breeze on my face as I wash dishes, the scent of Mrs. Meyers mingling with the scent of wet grass from the breeze.

The deck plants can be moved back to their home on the front porch and the pillow for the rocking chair pulled out of my closet, giving space for clothes and shoes once again.  I love that old wicker rocking chair, which once sat on my neighbor's porch before I rescued it from the trash when he was moving.  He said that was fine. 

This winter was hard for a lot of people.  I can't recall hearing of so much illness.  The crazy temperature extremes and rain when it should have been snowing didn't help at all.  So I'm thinking a lot of us will be happy to feel warm sunshine on our face. I'm looking forward to the dogwood tree blooming and the crab apple popping with color.  Still to come is that one time of year when my neighbor's tree blesses with the most lovely perfume as one walks the gravel lane to the mailbox.

Yes, it is time to leave the warm and cozy behind and walk out into some sunshine again.  I need to take advantage of the nice weather (when it finally arrives) before heat sets in and I retreat into the air conditioning.  Always remembering that without that heat, there would be no tomatoes or corn on the cob or watermelon or basil... and trying to not complain.  Much.

Since it is still cold, I am now off to the kitchen to brew some hot tea and make a turkey sandwich with mayo for dinner, along with a clementine I think.  The stock will cool down and have a place in the refrigerator overnight, when in the morning it will be drained into a smaller pot for potatoes and carrots to be added. 

The calendar may be telling us it is Spring but the need for my coat as I walk the gravel lane for the newspaper in the morning says it is still Winter... and still the season of soup for supper.

The Art of Simple, Episode 57, Hygge... here.

Image: Warming Up in Badger's Kitchen by Chris Dunn

Sunday Afternoon Tea - A missionary of beauty

Sunday Afternoon Tea - A missionary of beauty

Sunday Afternoon Tea

One day last week, I was listening to a speaker on TV when my ears perked up similar to Florentine's when she hears a can opening.  Words have that affect on me, especially when someone is speaking about a subject dear to my heart.  Beauty.

He was talking about his work in slums and inner cities when he stated that people living in these places have two different kinds of poverty.  They have an obvious financial poverty but they also have a poverty of beauty.  He went on to say that one slum area where he had ministered was only a few miles from a place of extreme natural beauty but most people living in the slum lived their entire life within the confines of the bleak neighborhoods.

A poverty of beauty.  I'd never thought of it that way before.

I pondered his words all week, thinking of how most of us will never be missionaries in foreign lands (although some readers are) and how few of us will be called into relief agencies to assist the poorest among us.  Some may venture into a slum area to feed the homeless or work in a food bank but we haven't actually lived in a place of such extreme poverty.

His words caused me to recall the townhouse where we lived prior to purchasing our house in the country.  Circumstances at the time prevented us renting anything nicer.  Don't get me wrong, it was far from being a slum but it wasn't a very nice neighborhood, either.  We would come to find out that there was a drunk living on one side of us and young drug dealers at the far end.

There were four townhouses in the one building, the outside was dark and dingy.  Next to each front door was the large garbage container that was to be rolled out to the parking lot each week.  It was absolutely depressing to think this is where I would live for who knows how long. 

Memories of the beautiful house we had to sell at a loss returned each time I passed the garbage by the front door. But there was a difference between us and the other tenants for I viewed this setback as temporary and this was their world.  Instead of remaining depressed, I decided to become a Missionary of Beauty.

I wrote long ago about the spiritual warfare of decorating (and received some amusing emails such as... huh?).  I didn't have a name for it but it was my way of representing Christ in less than perfect circumstances.  Undoubtedly the influence of Edith Schaeffer in my early spiritual thinking.  So I moved an old wooden chair outside in front of the only window facing the parking lot, next to that porch with the trash by the door. 

On the chair I placed a pot with beautiful flowers growing.  I can't recall what they were but they were most likely red geraniums. They are my favorite deck flowers, especially when next to yellow daisies. One day, I saw where the family who lived next door had also placed flowers in the front of their house.  I had my first convert and just a little more beauty to make one smile.

It was only about a year later that we applied for a government loan that allowed low income families to purchase houses in the country.  That loan, combined with living in an area where rural houses are not expensive, enabled us to purchase the home where we have now lived for over eleven years.  The small house I love even more than my former "dream house".

I didn't know that first day when I walked past the large garbage container that my husband having to go on Disability would be the very thing that helped us own our own house again just over a year later.  I didn't know God was sending me through a short season of again living in such financial poverty.  But I did know He had made me a missionary of both Christ and beauty while there.  I shared both to each of our neighbors as God opened a door.

I still recall the day the neighbor's children came over to pick up homemade cookies I'd promised the family and saw the look on their face when they walked past the trash and through the front door.  For what they saw was... beauty.  Not perfect by any means for the room they walked into held only our dining room furniture (the bedrooms were on the third level and the only place for our sofa and chairs was in the basement level) but decorated with pretty things nonetheless.

It reminded me of the time Christopher was a little boy and we lived in our colonial style house.  He told me the neighbors thought we were rich because our house looked so nice.  I had to laugh for while we did have some nice pieces of furniture we had been able to purchase through the years and some lovely inherited furniture from both parents... so much of the decorating that made it beautiful was picked up at Goodwill, garage sales, and flea markets for years and years.

We are just passing through this fallen world, being sojourners whose Kingdom is a place of beauty beyond our wildest imagination says the Bible.  So while we are here, I can't think of anything better (other than obviously sharing salvation in Christ) than to be missionaries of His Beauty in such a dark and unsettled world.

Hmmm... I think there is more to ponder here.  See you next week.

Image:  Feathered Friends by Mary Smith - I love this artwork.  The house is very similar to our Colonial style house we had to sell and the child looks much like Christopher did when we lived there.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The Story Behind My Bigfoot Obsession

Sunday Afternoon Tea - The Story Behind My Bigfoot Obsession

Sunday Afternoon Tea

Okay, you asked for it and I will tell you the story.  Actually, I did tell a shorter version long ago, embedded in a blog post about fear.  It all started with a movie I saw as a teenager.  I think it was probably The Legend of Boggy Creek from what other people have said about the movie.  For many Bigfoot researchers, it was what began their interest into Bigfoot.  For me it was what brought about a terrifying fear that lasted for years and years.

The movie is a documentary based on the true stories which came out of Fouke, Arkansas about a large, hairy beast that was terrorizing people in that part of the country.  I saw the film at the movie theater with my (then) stepsister, it probably wouldn't have had the same affect if it were on TV.  Even though I had to be around seventeen or eighteen, there was something about it that planted a deep root of fear.

After seeing that movie, I could not be in or near a forest without getting on edge and thinking their was a monster there.  That would be fine if one lived in a large city but most of my life I have lived in heavily forested areas.  Oh, I would remind myself that it was silly to feel this way but if one has a deeply embedded fear, logic does not prevail.

It didn't affect my every day life all that much.  Even when we lived in Western Michigan where I would hear the tales of Bigfoot living in the Upper Peninsula.  I felt a little creepy but at that time, when we went hiking my husband was usually with us. Not that he could take on Bigfoot even though he is quite tall but remember... fear is not logical.

However, when we started homeschooling, Christopher and I hiked on trails a lot.  It was a way to calm down a hyperactive boy and we both enjoyed hiking. I felt like someone or something was always staring at us.  I recall many times looking through the forest thinking I saw... something.  It didn't stop me from hiking or picnicking by the forested area but it did make me feel uncomfortable.

Somewhere around that time, I read about or heard a sermon on facing our fears head on.  How the best way to rid ourselves of those embedded fears is to shine God's light in the darkness.  So I decided to go head to toe with Bigfoot... not literally, of course.

I still avoided movies about evil and monsters (as I still do today) but I no longer avoided anything just because it was about Bigfoot.  I remembered how our family had watched and enjoyed Harry and the Hendersons (the furry cute guy in the photo above).   I decided that would be my image of Bigfoot from that moment on.

I started learning more about Bigfoot and knowledge is empowering.  I learned that Harry (aka: Bigfoot) sightings were extremely rare and that it was highly unlikely that if Harry exists, it would be in any forest where I hike.  You would think that would be obvious but has fear of anything ever gripped you?

About ten years ago, a good friend told me how much she had enjoyed Frank Peretti's (then) new novel called Monster.  Who is the monster?  You guessed it.  Her only warning was not to read it alone or at night.  I decided to try reading it to see how that whole fear thing was going.  If I could handle Peretti writing about Bigfoot, I had come a long way.  It was very good and I was fine but I would not suggest reading it at night, especially if you are alone.

In my quest to continue facing my fear head on, I watched documentaries and real life shows about Bigfoot (never monster movies).  That is when I fell in love with Finding Bigfoot on Animal Planet.  It was really just what the fear doctor ordered.  Not only did I learn more about Bigfoot than I ever anticipated, the four Bigfoot researchers are fun to watch.  The three long time researchers have all had alleged sightings, the one skeptic has not.

It was Finding Bigfoot that led to watching other documentary style shows on the subject.  Even Survivor Man now has a Bigfoot related series.  He has not seen one but he decided to do a series because of unexplained events that happened when he was deep in some forest areas.

Do I believe Bigfoot exists?  Well, there have been hundreds if not thousands of sightings of Bigfoot like creatures through the centuries so it is entirely possible.  Speculation abounds as to what the creatures would be although most researchers believe they are an unidentified primate. Documentaries have suggested anything from aliens to Biblical Nephilim to just plain old overgrown apes.

However, what facing my fears has done... besides developing a real fondness for Harry-like creatures, not that I would want to see one in person mind you... is to overcome deeply embedded fear.  I can walk past the forest on the gravel road and not "see" monsters like I once did.  I still wouldn't want to walk past the forest at night just because it is creepy at dark.  Just saying...

I believe it was God given wisdom to stop running away from monsters in my mind and shine a light on them.  Fear exists in darkness even when that darkness is all in your mind.  Thoughts can seem real.  Most of what we fear never happens.

Most fears are what the enemy of our soul has planted in our minds and our thoughts play it out as a movie that is truth.

Don't get me wrong, this world is still fallen and there is evil.  Bad things do happen to good people.  But God doesn't want us to give evil more than its' due.  God and Satan are not equal.  Only one of them is the Omnipotent Creator.  We are to keep our thoughts on God and read His Word, not giving in to the possibilities that are in our thought life.

Now when friends and family send me Bigfoot related items (like last week, thank you, Carol), it brings a smile instead of fear.  Do you have any embedded fears?  Those which have taken root and in some way bring hindrances to your life?   Ask God for wisdom and He will give it to you.  Perfect love cast out fear and He loves you.  I don't promise it will be easy and for me it happened over a period of time but God wants to pull up those roots of fear and give you freedom.

Mentioned in this Post
Monster by Frank Peretti... here.
Harry and the Hendersons... here.

Disclaimer:  Most links to Amazon.com are Associate Links.  I thank you.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - When our weakness is our message

Sunday Afternoon Tea - When our weakness is our message

Sunday Afternoon Tea

Have you ever compared yourself to others, your life to that of your friends?  Of course, we all have.  It's human nature to do so... even if it isn't wise.  We tend to be in awe of people who are doing "great things for God" when our life seems so small. 

It got me thinking of how so often we say we are "just" a... wife, husband, single person, teenager, senior citizen, college student, parent, etc.  While in God's eyes we are His unique creation, each one of us an individual like no other who has ever lived or who will ever live on the planet.  We are His workmanship.  We are His Art.  We are part of His Story.  

There is nothing "just" or small about us.

We don't have a problem accepting that all the good stuff in our life comes from Him but what about the circumstances we would just as soon not walk through or live with?  Sigh... yes, we know they are allowed to mold us into who we are on this journey called life.  We are a compilation of the good and the gifts and the trials and the failures and the successes and the joys and the tears that He has allowed.

Sometimes it is the unwelcome news that has sent us on the direction we find ourselves in our journey.  For instance, if my son didn't have ADHD then I would have missed the enjoyment of homeschooling.  But I wasn't thinking joy that day we pulled him out of school to teach him at home.  The word I was thinking was... why?  That decision completely changed where I thought I'd be at that time in my life.

I know without a doubt that God uses our weakness as well as our strength to be His light in the world.  He understands our "why" questions but sometimes the answer is... because this is where I need you. That's hard for some Christians to accept but the truth is that God wants to use us where we are willing to go and sometimes where we are not so willing.

He wants those of us who know Him to be His salt and light in the special needs support group.  He wants those who love Him who have survived cancer or who live with chronic illness to listen to those just beginning to walk that path.  He needs the person in her 20s to share with the teenager how she stayed true to her faith in high school and the graduate student to help the freshman make good choices in that first year of college.

He knows that the parent who seemed to do everything right and loved God and knows His Word but finds herself with a prodigal in jail is just the person who can find peace and share it with other parents in the same situation.  He needs the couple who have stayed together over many years to assure the newlyweds they will get through the tough times with Jesus as the center of their marriage.

Everyone has gone through something and survived.  No Christian goes through this life without struggles.  We live in a fallen world.  This isn't Heaven, yet.  How can God use you?  When you have gained the wisdom He wants you to have in the midst of each trial.  Then he has someone who can step along side another to give encouragement and His Word.  Sometimes to a fellow Christian but quite often to one who would never step foot into a church. 

Sometimes I grow weary on this journey and I find encouragement in writings by those who have walked the path.  Then there are days when only The Book offers solace.  But I'm old enough to look back and know for certain that God never left me alone, that He has always provided what I need whether it is finances, or a friend, or that peace that passes understanding.

So if you think you are someone whose life is too small to be used by Him... know that if there is breath within you then He has you here for a reason.  A purpose which only you can accomplish.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Peace on Purpose

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Peace on Purpose

Sunday Afternoon Tea

It arrives in the mailbox every month.  A reminder.  A letter from my insurance plan that tells me my health has been deemed... fragile.  The term reminds me that some things in life cannot be changed.  I have a life threatening autoimmune disease, Juvenile Diabetes.  There. Is. No. Cure. Yet! 

I take five shots a day, check my blood sugar, and trust that I won't leave this world until the very day and hour and minute and second He is ready to take me home.  I don't really think about it until I'm away from home and my head starts spinning because it has been too long since I last ate.  So I have to grab the granola bar or Gummie Bears out of my purse and nibble away until my heart stops pounding and the room settles. 

I can't change being a diabetic but God has been reminding me of the Truth that sometimes... not always but sometimes... my lack of peace is caused by something I can change.  

For instance, I learned something from this recent political environment. There was a time I could be in the midst of the political arena and banish the sword among the best of them.  But those days are gone as is the grace to live that life.  Now I need... peace.  Perhaps as one's body becomes more fragile, the soul needs to be treated with care.

When I would lose my peace and get tense and feel like my world was spinning out of control, God would gently remind me that it was my choice to bring this image or that article into my home.  For that is what we do when we look at any media... whether it is in the form of books or movies or TV shows or... Instagram and Facebook.

We may have no problem with God's warnings against watching immorality.  For instance, we purposely do not have any paid movie channels and while it is difficult to keep images away even on Prime Time these days (have you seen a Victoria's Secret commercial?), about the most immoral scene in my home is Tom Selleck running around Hawaii in his short shorts.  Wait a minute... just give me a moment... Magnum, sigh... okay, I'm ready to move on.

But I wasn't so selective about social media.  I followed and friended all kinds of artists and authors and chefs and cookbook authors and people who lived on homesteads and crafters who knew how to use washi tape and some people I admire.  I loved their pretty pictures and their ideas.  Mostly, that is all they talked about... those things we have in common.

Then came this last election and all of that changed.  Which is also when social media began to give me serious headaches and kept me up at night.  I think it was during one of those nights when it was far past midnight and my head was throbbing that the Holy Spirit... my Comforter, Teacher, and Friend... reminded me that I had let them into my house. I opened the door. It was my idea that they could rob my peace.

But you don't understand?  I'm nice to people who are different than me!  As a conservative Christian woman, I'm used to being in the minority on campus and in the coffee shop and when volunteering at the library and... even in some churches.

But am I used to being assaulted with words in my Living Room?  My Study?  When I've lit a candle and brewed a pot of tea and stretched out on the sofa for the evening?  Over and over and over.  I invited them into my world.  Ouch.

So I began purging Instagram and Facebook of people who were bringing on headaches.  Oh, not the bloggers and authors I care about who believe differently than I do.  I'm convinced God has us in each others lives to form that bridge where we can agree and honestly, they are all women who are full of grace and never hateful.  Which is why I like them.

No, first I unfollowed those who were downright ugly, especially those that started using profanity.  But as the weeks and months went on, I ended up unfollowing probably a third of those I originally invited into my world.  I took back my peace.  I didn't cringe when I went to view Instagram or Facebook as much as I once did.  I still follow enough networks and people who write about the news that I definitely know what is going on in the world.

Isn't it strange how guilty I felt at first, unfollowing people who do not know I exist?  Thinking it is me who is wrong in not being able to take their insults?  But then as my social media accounts began to bring peace, I no longer felt like it was me doing something wrong in not inviting just anyone into my world.

Social media is one of the only things in my life I can control.

My new standard is... if they would vex my spirit in person, why am I bringing them into my "home" via the Internet?  Into my life?  Into my mind?  The Bible tells us that Lot was "vexed" in Sodom.  Which, if you stop to think of it, meant it was really bad because he came from Ur of the Chaldees and it wasn't Mayberry!

I have always wondered why Lot didn't just leave Sodom if he was vexed all the time.  I think most likely because his wife and daughters liked it there. But Lot knew better and while he should never have moved there in the first plate, for Sodom's reputation was well known, he still had within him the teachings of the One True God that could not go away.  So he was vexed.  Each and every day.  I expect he went to bed with a pounding head more than once.

It took awhile but at least I finally listened to God and took control of what I could.  Everything else is within His Grace.

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Life on Purpose Reflections

Sunday Afternoon Tea - Life on Purpose Reflections

Sunday Afternoon Tea

My literary mentor, Edith Schaeffer.

September was the reset month when there was schoolwork in the midst of our years.  These days, with both kids long ago graduated from college, it is once again January which clears the air.  January gives me a fresh calendar (a few, actually), and lets me hit the reset button on what is commonly viewed as... a life.

God created planets and a sun and a moon and stars and He threw in Time and Space and mixed them all together to form a calendar... that was absolutely brilliant.  God will continue to amaze me throughout Eternity.  How well He understands His creation.  We need to know where we are in our journey on this planet and a calendar can focus our attention to lots of Truths.  Not the least of which is how fast that thing we call Time flies by.

I usually take birthdays with grace, just being glad for another year on the planet.  However, turning sixty really shook me.  While the birthday weekend spent in Western Michigan... one of my favorite places on the planet, with my very favorite people on the planet... was lovely and filled with joy, I was in a bit of a fog thinking about reaching that decade.  Sixty.  Where did forty and fifty go?

I remember my mother's sixtieth birthday.  I remember reading a book by Edith Schaeffer when I was a bride and thinking how old she was when she wrote about turning sixty that year.  Sixty is not the new forty.  One still lives a lot of years to reach sixty... and it can be rather strange when we can't remember many of those days, much less entire years.

I think I was in my late teens, it had to be as I wasn't married, attending a rather large meeting filled with mostly older Christians.  I was half listening to a conversation going on beside me when I realized the subject was quite interesting.  Even to one so young.  They were talking about how the older they get, the more they realize this life is a schoolroom for the next... our very preparation for Eternity.

That was hard to take in when you are still a teenager and a new Christian.  Now I understand what they were saying... and why I have to continue to draw close to the Lord while... giving my younger self a lot of grace.

I know I don't have to repent over and over when I've asked God's forgiveness.  But I still cringe when I think of things from the past, especially when I said something or judged someone or acted in an ungodly manner.  However, when I talk to Him about these things, He always asks me the same question.  Every. Single. Time.

Did you learn from the experience?

For you see, He doesn't expect us to walk through this life always doing the perfect thing.  Only Jesus lived that life.  However, as we grow in wisdom and knowledge of His Word, He does expect us over the years to learn from past mistakes... and trials... and blessings.  Life is indeed a learning experience.  His goal is for us to become more like Jesus and a lifetime is only the beginning.  We are to grow every year, learning what He teaches through people, circumstances, and His Word.

I've been thinking a lot about the basics the past few weeks, going back to the people who mentored me when I was young... some in real life but a lot in books.  I was very blessed in those early years to be surrounded by excellent teachers who introduced me to my literary mentors, especially Edith Schaeffer.

She had the greatest influence on the way my life would be shaped.  Others, of course, through the years were important... but she was my role model of what a Christian woman should look like.  Never perfect, for she was the first to admit she and Francis were far from perfect.  But having said that... still a role model that has proven wise in my now 60+ years.

Which is why, in my new-to-me-thrifted cabinet, the bottom shelf contains all my Edith books.  I have gone back to the beginning and I'm now re-reading some titles that I haven't picked up in years.  Back to what started it all.  Back to the time I've forgotten. I want to return to the beginning in a literary sense and reread some of the books now, from the same age she was when she wrote them. 

Of course, there is the usual beginning of the year cleaning and decluttering going on.  All of the drawers in the Study have been cleaned and reorganized.  The drawers in the hutch have had a very good cleaning and tweaking, with the cloth napkins getting a washing this year.  Last year it was the vintage tablecloths which were sent through the washer and dryer.

Two sacks of stuff I don't need (including half the cloth napkins) are in sacks waiting for the next time I'm driving past the Mission's thrift store.  That's another part of life's changes.  What we needed (or at least we thought we needed) at one time is not important now so let's give it to charity for someone else to use and clear our own clutter.

So... besides reading Hidden Art this week (aka: The Hidden Art of Homemaking in paperback), what else is on the agenda?  I need to make a few lists to sort out the jumble of thinking going on, to take pen to paper and organize... not a drawer... but my brain.  There was a time I could type a letter and answer the phone and talk to a kid at the same time but these days... if I don't write something down it tends to go... poof!

This week I will make lists. January is the perfect time for the making of lists... and the pondering of life.  Which often results in the making of lists... and blog posts.