God's only got one side. His.

Lately I've been observing two warring factions on the internet. From my dispassionate standpoint, there's elements of truth and error to each group. 

What's interesting to me as a study in human character is the lengths to which some are willing to go to vilify the other group, while claiming the righteousness of God and truth is on their side. 

People who never name the name of Christ now find verses of scripture and post them in justification... as a "so THERE" or a "see how God agrees with ME" form of arrogance. 

Every seeming inspirational post is now tinged with an "in your face" attitude that makes me either roll my eyes, or heave a sigh.

Please, God, keep me from arrogance in my dealing with others. Keep me from wresting scriptures to support my failing, limited understanding.

And keep me as Switzerland. 

on cat training

After a rousing performance last night, S came home drowsy and ready for a cup of chamomile tea.  We were all in bed and lights out by 10:30.  Party animals we are not!

Calico Cat obliged us and allowed us to sleep in by not yowing outside my door for her breakfast.   Acutally, I think I may have trained her in this.  When she first came to live with us, she was silent for a month.  Then I took her to the vet for her shots, at which meeting she raged and cursed and spit and gashed a stripe down the hand of some young, pretty vet tech.   She earned a skull and crossbones drawing on her new patient chart: a marked criminal.

Since that vet encounter, she has been yowly when she believes she has a need - starting at 4:30 am for breakfast.   I am solidly a 6:30 am kind of girl these days, but a yowly cat can defeat my resolve and make me miserable by denying my sleep. Each time I checked, she had food in her dish, but not the right KIND of food.  

My workaround solution:  As soon as she uttered her first YOW, out she went into the garage.  4:30 am, 6 am - didn't matter, if it wasn't my time to officially get up to feed her, I WOULD get up and deal with her by putting her in a place I couldn't hear her.

I have done this 3 times.   The YOW factor at oh-dark-hundred has virtually disappeared.

Did I really just train a cat?  Or did she just train me to occasionally send her to the garage to check for R.O.U.S?

Either way, I am content.

breaking the silence

The house is quiet tonight.  A harbinger of greater silence to come.  

My son, 18, is finishing up his freshman year of college on the other side of the United States.

My daughter, 17, is finishing up her junior year at a small Christian school, and preparing to enter Running Start for her Senior year to finish high school but receive college credit for it. 

Tonight, she's singing at a choir concert in Tacoma.

Hubby and I are sitting at home, pajama-ed and hot chocolated, and feeling very boring - but oddly enough, enjoying the respite for now.  We're just waiting for S to come home and share her day with us...or not, depending on how tired she is. 

A huge calico cat is stretched out, butt touching my hip, making her belly available for scratching. I oblige, but carefully: she's a master of fang and claw. I have to read the subtle signs to know whether my attentions please her or not.

The 4 years of silence here were intentional, desiring to protect relationships and confidences; designed to keep my family from thinking that they had to be guarded around me so I wouldn't write about them, exposing their fun or foolishness.  I hope I gained their trust in that respect. 

I also lost something: memories.   I am a forest person, not a trees person.  I do the big picture well, but have to discipline myself on following through with details.  With that, I have missed recording some moments of preciousness that are now forgotten.  D and S will occasionally remind me of something that had passed out of my memory bank.  I take hope in the fact that Sherlock does the same thing - he forgets the unimportant.  Perhaps the things I have forgotten are truly unimportant. 

But as I reread this blog - these little things that I recorded, of little people in life situations - so many things I have now forgotten were brought back to me. 

So I know some preciousness has been lost in my silence.

I even wonder in this new, silent space, what I actually have to say.  "Life, mommyhood, and lots of popcorn" doesn't quite fit my current role.    

So here's what I say.  Embrace it. It makes wings and flies away.  In my son's case, he flew away to South Carolina, and I haven't spent much more than a week in his presence since last August.  My daughter, with her decision to begin Running Start college classes, is beginning to fledge.  My heart rejoices at the prospect.  My heart also breaks.

So with it, I break my silence, to speak of things both terrible and beautiful- the beginning of altering my role in my childrens' lives to more of an advisor and cheerleader.  It's incredibly difficult to let your child take risks and fail. I continues to reserve the right to kick butt when necessary,  but also to encourage them to pick up the pieces and try again. 

I don't know whether I will continue to use this blog.  But for today, I'm here.    I'm here to tell you you will miss your little ones climbing all over you, their monkey paws touching you, the missed homework, the freakouts, the pancake messes, the dirty underwear with racing stripes stuffed down the air ducts, the apple cores and candy wrappers under the bed, the art supplies all over the house... because it represents home and togetherness and completeness.

Hugs to mamas everywhere tonight who are missing their little ones. 

 

 

a year and a day

...that's how long it's been since I've journaled here.  My two wee bairns are 13 and almost-15... AND they are visiting grandma in California for a couple of weeks!

Can you say "party" ?

But it is very, very quiet around here, especially because it is Saturday, and A. is busy getting ready for Sunday morning services. 

The kitchen is staying clean.  So is the bathroom.   I'm almost caught up on the laundry (they left yesterday).

But you know what?  There's not nearly as much laughter in the house without them here.

So maybe "party" isn't the right term. More like... respite.  Nah, that's not it, either.  Too much connotation of a cessation of stress and negative things.

I'll come up with it, by and by.

In the meantime, because it is so quiet, I think I'll turn on Pandora and do some more knitting.


I think I've got it:  soothing.


 

Follow Me

Preface: I have a virtual friend (meaning, I only know her online, not in real life) who's facilitating an online Bible study based on the Good Morning Girls groups.  Every work week there is a new 5-day Bible study that follows the acronym SOAP:  Scripture, Observations, Applications, Prayer.

I like it because it's a quick way to build the disciplines of grace into your life (The Word, prayer, meditation, application).  It doesn't take extraordinary Bible study tools. It doesn't require a leader to tell you the "right" answers. All you need are your Bible, the illuminating power of God's Holy Spirit, your brain, and a pencil (or in my case, Microsoft OneNote, where I've been journaling all this).

Clicking the title of this post takes you to this week's SOAP journal.  You can download and print it for yourself if you like.
/End of preface, begin today's study:

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Scripture: Matthew 4:19

And He said to them, "Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men."

Observation

Immediately after that, Peter and Andrew left their livelihoods and followed Jesus.  Right after that, Jesus called John and James, and the same thing: they left their nets and their father and followed the messiah.  Jesus CALLED and they responded. All believers have received a call from Jesus to follow Him.

Application

In my past experience, here is where the guilt card is played, with that phrase "FISHERS OF MEN."  You're not reeling in enough fish, some church leader may say to you. He that winneth souls is wise!   Or perhaps, Your bait isn't good enough; try this hook instead!  I think this misses some of the point.  Jesus called us first to FOLLOW him.  He will transform us into good fishermen.  If you're hanging out with the master fisher, he'll teach you how to catch the fish.

I realize that a fish is not going to just jump out of the water and flop into my boat.  At the same time, I've seen a lot of hard-sell "soulwinning" in my day.   If you employ the right technique, you too can persuade/browbeat/frighten someone into professing Christ as savior.  But how much of that is a real disciple-making experience, and how much is just a beleaguered person succumbing to pressure to join a club/please the browbeater?  Straight-up, I confess, I AM reacting against that bible-thumping approach from the preacher with the loud voice and dippity-do in his hair.  I've seen people arm-wrestled into churchianity (differentiating from true faith in Christ), and these  people then perpetuate the means by which they themselves were brought into the doors.  As far as their receiving a true, life-transforming experience, however, the results are less convincing.

Here's what I take away from this verse: The master CALLS people--as you yourself were called--and those will in turn follow Christ and become fishers of men.  We follow the master, and he enables us to lead others to faith in him.  I don't want to get caught up in the numbers game: (How many fish did you catch today?); I do want to follow him and let him turn me into a fisherman like himself.

Prayer

Lord, help me to follow you  first. And help me to fish.  But help me never to lose sight of you by focusing only on a bunch of smelly fish. :) Amen.

To Live is Christ

From Sovereign Grace's new album Risen, this song was a great blessing to me this morning.   As an interesting twist, I was listening to it while working out at Bally's gym, and was really struggling to maintain my composure.  The Other Sweaty People in the gym probably thought I was working out really hard and had pulled something. :)

Before You gave us life and breath
You numbered all our days
You set Your gracious love on us
And chose us to be saved
This fleeting life is passing by
With all its joys and pain
But we believe to live is Christ
And death is gain

To live is Christ, to die is gain
In every age this truth remains
We will not fear, we're unashamed
To live is Christ, to die is gain

And though we grieve for those we love
Who fall asleep in Christ
We know they'll see the Savior's face
And gaze into His eyes
So now we grieve, yet we don't grieve
As those who have no hope
For just as Jesus rose again
He'll raise His own

And now we're longing for the day
We'll see the Lamb once slain
Who saved a countless multitude
To glorify His name
We're yearning for the wedding feast
Of Jesus and His bride
His nail-scarred hands will finally
Bring us to His side

Held and Holding Firmly

"Listen: If you’ve got a Christian faith whereby you’re hanging on by your fingernails to God – just making it—then I don’t know that you have understood saving faith.  If you are hanging on to God as a result of how well you’ve done this past week, or how many times you’ve read your Bible, or how many times you’ve witnessed, or how many times you didn’t think the bad thought (or whatever else it is), and when something comes across your mind, saying, “I wonder if I’m a Christian?”  you find yourself saying,  “oh yes,  I am, because of this and this and this and this and this… I’m holding on,” then you don’t understand. The only reason any of us are holding on is because He picked us up in His almighty embrace and gathered us to Himself. Jesus says, “My sheep hear My voice, and they follow Me, and I give them eternal life (gift!), and they will never perish, neither will any man pluck them out of My hand.”  

This morning the ground of our assured conviction concerning the nature of the Good News in our own lives, is on the fact that we have found our tiny hand nestled  under the warm and large and powerful eternal embrace of God our Father.  And when sin comes into our lives, as it inevitably does, it spoils our fellowship, but it does not negate our relationship."

~Pastor Alistair Begg, Parkside Church, Cleveland, OH

How many of my formative years were grounded in Performance-based Christianity and the fear of man?  Far too many.  It's grievous that even though I went to a "good, sound church and Christian school"  that I missed so much of God's grace and the gospel.  It's baggage that I still carry today, and I constantly need to keep the Cross before me.  Alistair's message was a glorious reminder that I do not contribute anything to my salvation, other than sin.  It's all of God's grace that I am saved and kept.

That is all.

"life", mommyhood, popcorn...

Gentle reader, please advise:
How does one blog about Life, specifically Mommyhood, when one's children have reached An Age of Self-Awareness that mom occasionally--nay, mainly-- Blogs About Them? To avoid causing or giving offense, I find myself mentally editing my childrearing mileposts to the point that they just never leave my fingertips and make it into record.

D and S continually surprise me in this regard. Occurrences that I consider matter-of-fact or just plain funny are moments of grave consequence or great humiliation to them. Having a 13 and 12-year-old makes the emotional mood swings par for the course, so I find myself stinting on posts to provide them safety and give them confidence in my discretion.

In the final analysis, though... scraps of my leftover Life Happenings are not interesting. My life, though packed to the gills, is pretty routine. I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning (cold cereal, slightly green banana, cup of coffee with sugar free vanilla Coffeemate). I struggle with the same character flaws I always have (fear of man rather than fear of God, indolence, pride). Life cruises along and birthdays are no longer important now that I'm a Certain Age.

It's my children who change every time I blink. I find myself wishing to hold on to certain moments just as they are Right Now. My little girl is now taller than me. My son is stronger than me, and keeps me challenged to stay one step ahead of him in wits and cunning. Then again, he's done that since he was four.

I look back now at the lost playworld of Kittyland, and their imaginary friends Wilbur and Nadine, who have moved away. I didn't recognize at the time they were playing those games for the last time. So the event passed away without incident, without recognition, and they moved on to the next play phase in their lives.

Only now, I have to be so painstakingly careful in my remembrances. I make this sacrifice willingly--after all, I would hope for the same consideration from a loved one!

I believe I can safely say that, since my hurried Thursday dinner of homemade burritos didn't quite fill the spaces, D is now out in the kitchen supplementing my lack of preparation with grilled cheese sandwiches. I was hoping for New York Steak with crab meat and artichoke hearts, but this will have to do. S is annoying him somehow, since there are Thumpings and Bumpings and high-pitched noises coming from the general vicinity of the kitchen. I am remaining in my red leather chair by the fire on this cold evening. A is watching Columbo.

That's about it from here.

trainspotting

Yesterday morning on the way to school, Number One Son and I were delayed by a rather long freight train carrying a load of coal eastbound across the nation.

D: "Oh, look! It's the Polar Express!"

Gonna be a lot of sad boys-n-girls.....

literary lovin'

I've been rather MIA lately. I can talk about trivialities and meaningless stuff with great loquacity, but to dig deeply and bare my soul --whether in person or on the intertubes--puts a choke chain around my throat and glues my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

A dear former student and friend of mine posted this meme on FB earlier today, then tagged me. Since it has just the right dosages of both distance and intimacy, I'm not at all bovvered with making this my first post after a Great and Enduring Silence.

The Challenge: List fifteen authors (poets included) who've influenced you and who will always stick with you. List the first 15 you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.

**this is not a ranked list.**

1. A.A. Milne (the Discriminate Use of Capital Letters should have tipped you off)
2. Emily Dickinson
3. Paul the Apostle (yeah, if I were a better person I would have put him first, right, but this is off the top of my head. :p)
4. Amy L. Efaw. :)
5. Elizabeth George (the Christian devotional writer, not the romance novelist)
6. Bill Shakespeare
7. Rex Stout
8. Clive Staples Lewis
9. Beverly Cleary
10. Theodor Seuss Geisel
11. John MacArthur
12. Douglas Adams
13. J. I. Packer
14. Jane Austen
15. Jo Rowling

conspiracy afoot

I found a checklist in the laundry room (which, in fact, is just one tiny side of the garage, but it sounds more impressive to say Laundry Room like I actually have an entire room designated for cleaning clothes) -

I'm posting it here so I can let the FBI know that I'm keeping tabs on this hotbed of rebellion. Motherhood isn't for sissies. Here's the list:


___ Machine Gun

___ C-4

___ Grenades

___ Toxic gas

_X_ Rope

___ Harpoon gun

___ Dalek Sonic Screwdriver

_X_ Dress shoes

_X_ Dark socks

_X_ Blazer

_X_ Loud tie

___ Neat haircut

_X_ Skirt Dress Pants

Destroy this list!


As long as the first few items remain unchecked, I suppose I don't see anything very subversive about dark socks, dress shoes, and loud ties. However, I am a bit baffled as to the appearance of "skirt" on the list - my son never has expressed a desire to embrace his Scottish heritage by wearing the family tartan in kilt form; and he disdains the man-skirt/utility kilt fashion that I've seen around greater Seattle. He changed his mind, regardless.

I will have to keep closer tabs on the laundry, to be sure.

crazy, mixed-up kid

In others, I admire a well-turned phrase, a piquant wit, and ghastly puns. I'm pretty good with words myself, though a master by no stretch.

But so far I haven't been able to find the words to write this post. And I need to.

My dad died on May 18, 2010. There. I typed it. It was peaceful and quick, and I was not there. I was here in WA teaching piano lessons at the time when the phone call came from my mom. "It's Graduation Day!" she said. We spoke for a few minutes about I know not what, certainly details of his passing and words of comfort were exchanged, but I shut down at that point.

And I went and finished teaching for the remainder of the afternoon.
And went out to dinner.

May 18 was also my 40th birthday, and my 19th wedding anniversary. I needed to celebrate. I was obliged to celebrate, really, though I'm sure it must seem rather macabre from an outsider's perspective. We had sushi with friends - A. ate spring rolls and teriyaki...tried one Las Vegas roll, I think. He really doesn't do sushi.

With the timing of Dad's passing - so close to school year ending, A's trip to NY, and our already-scheduled trip to CA - Mom decided it would be better to wait and have a memorial service at the end of June when we can all be there.

So in many ways I've been numb and in limbo for the last, oh, whatever number of days it is now. Dealing with the grief as it comes up in unexpected ways and at unexpected times.

Last night capped it, though. Dad was an income tax preparer for many years. I was wondering about my piano business, my income taxes, and how, if at all, I was paying into Social Security and Medicare, so automatically I picked up the phone.

And realized.

So, right now, I'm just a crazy, mixed-up kid. 40 is the new 20, right?

Are Christians Meant to Feel Guilty All the Time?

Are Christians Meant to Feel Guilty All the Time?

Posted using ShareThis


Thanks to Lisa for mentioning this on FB. This is where my heart and mind have been lately. If I'm in a funk about things, usually it's because I'm dwelling on my sin rather than my gracious Savior. Timely and helpful.

Because I haven't posted in a long time :)

This sums up 3/4 of our family quite nicely, thank you!


see more Lolcats and funny pictures

the forgetfulness of God

I, I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake,

and I will not remember your sins.

Isaiah 43:25

And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,'
for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD.
For I will forgive their iniquity, and
I will remember their sin no more."
Jeremiah 31:34

In those days and in that time, declares the LORD,
iniquity shall be sought in Israel, and there shall be none,
and sin in Judah, and none shall be found,
for I will pardon those whom I leave as a remnant.
Jeremiah 50:20

Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity
and passing over transgression
for the remnant of his inheritance?
He does not retain his anger forever,
because he delights in steadfast love.
He will again have compassion on us;
he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
into the depths of the sea.
Micah 7:18-19

spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.....

To borrow a line from Tom Lehrer, all the world seems in tune on a spring afternoon. (No, I did not go "poisoning pigeons in the park," but I've been humming that song all day.)


Actually had a SATURDAY today, one that counted as such - it didn't involve HAVING to run here, go there, play this, drop off that. I slept in, spent some quality time with my husband, had several cups of coffee, made bacon California roll sushi (yes indeed), weeded and edged half the rose bed (it's large), and basically enjoyed the sunshine underneath layers of 30 SPF goop.

Topping off a charming day, my friends Audra and Yulia came over with their daughters, and we sat in my backyard whilst insanity ruled among the children. We finished the day with a marshmallow roast/s'mores over A's improvised firepit: a turkey roaster purchased from the thrift store, perched on a cement block. Just plop the lid on when you're done and you're golden.

This coming week will be D's school spring break, which does not match any other school's spring break. So he'll be around for a week while most of his friends will still be in school. That' s okay though.....this means I can sleep in instead of dreading the 5:50 am alarm going off, followed by a commute on the nassssty WA167. That alone will be worth it. A. is planning a day trip or two with the kidlets (I still have lessons to teach this week) - so I will get some alone time in the house - a rare boon. I plan to use Monday to do my income taxes. (My weekends have been pretty booked up until now!) Remaining time on Monday will mean a thorough spring cleaning of the kitchen, and then some big cooking - for enjoyment, not necessity. :)

And a run, too. Still chipping away at the interval running. My right knee is occasionally talking to me with some foul language, so I'm silencing it with ibuprofen and ice; glucosamine on the odd chance that it isn't quackery; and just pressing on and exercising anyway, because it's not like it's incapacitating pain anyway. Just noticeable, and only on occasion.

I smell like firepit - a summer smell if there ever was one! - though I plan to fully enjoy this spring as a continuation of this winter. :) Make it so.

miasma

"It's up to the government to resolve this kind of problem, they must take responsibility and tell us what to do." - Gelin Wesnel, native Haitian.

Culture shock.

it never rains in sunny...western washington?

It's a rare event, but it does happen. California is getting hammered with wet weather, while we Pac NW-ers enjoy sun and 50º weather. I even went jogging on Monday to 1) get rid of Christmas indulgences and 2) get my heart back in shape.

Okay, I didn't jog non-stop. More like: walk, walk, walk, walk, jog for about half a block; recover for 5 minutes to get my breath back; jog for half a block; recover for another 5......you get the idea.

I used to run distance, really. Had to for high school sports. Hated it. Hate the floppy feeling of it all. I much prefer step aerobics, floor aerobics, cycling, or the elliptical machine - lower impact than just the pound-pound-pound of jogging. Indoor, too, so not affected by Washington weather.

However, it's sunny out, and I have a vitamin D deficiency*.
(* statement not verified by a professional. Opinion only.)

I also have an mp3 player and I know how to use it. Nothing beats a good set of tunes to keep you motivated to keep slogging along. Come on, make it to the end of the 32...now go for 64, you can do it!

Yesterday was recovery from Monday. So this means today I need to go at it again.

Baby steps.

raindrops keep falling in my coffee

Blattery rainy weather lately. I keep thinking about the character in So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish where Rob the lorry driver has kept a personal journal demonstrating that it NEVER stops raining. Never. In the book, of course, the omniscient narrator informs us this is because Rob McKenna is, in fact, a rain god, so the clouds just follow him everywhere to cherish him, be with him, and water him. Rob eventually turns this into a lucrative career, receiving payment for staying away from important outdoor events; or conversely, going where crops need to be watered.



I, however, just get bucketed every morning as I walk from house to car, clutching my mug of coffee for warmth and a gradual, timed dosing of liquid awareness. The last two mornings I've been splashed by coffee as herking raindrops plunk into the cup and displace coffee onto me. Never fear, it was not wasted.



The morning commute under such circumstances is watchful and focused. On rainy days, the 167 freeway from 7:15 - 7:45 a.m. assumes the color of the sky above it -ranging from rain-shiny slate grey to rain-shiny grey blue. The only distinguishing features are the red of the taillights, the glare of the headlights on the water, or the occasional reflector on the road. I can hardly see the lines painted on the road on days like today. A little standing water here and there helps my massage therapist have something to exclaim about when I visit. Toss in a passing semi-truck or two with the resulting washout over my car hood and I'm a mass of shoulder and neck knots.



Please note that I have no massage therapist. With all the muscle tension going on, I'm tired by the end of the commute on rainy days. It's sketchy enough on dry days; exponentially worse when the weather behaves like Western Washington's does.



I am grateful to arrive home, intact, and mostly dry after sitting in a warm car. I have faith the sun will shine again soon.



Once Rob McKenna goes away.

the non-resolution post

Well, well, where'd the time go?! Happy Twenty-Ten!

In reading up on some other blogs I follow, the common theme seems to be "boy, I wish I had something awesome/creative/inspiring to share, but I've been too busy/boring/uninspiring over the Christmas/Advent/Hanukkah/Kwanza season that I haven't posted anything..."

So rather than add my own variation on the same theme above, I will be just as boring/uninspiring as I regularly am and not give a fig. If you're reading this, it's probably because you know me and, despite that, are fond of me in some twisted way.

We enjoyed a restful, relaxing Christmas at home. My parents were unable to travel up from California, and we were unable to travel down to them, so it was a new experience having Christmas on our own. Some empty-nester church friends invited us over for supper that day, so it wasn't too lonely for them or us.

The kids thoroughly enjoyed all the late nights and sleeping in over the holidays- plus the lighter restrictions on TV and Wii hours. :) We had to get some practice in on our new Wii games, after all: Lego Batman, Super Mario, and Mario and Sonic at the Winter Olympics!

Now that school is back in session, however, D is no longer able to play Wii until his grades improve. :\ By necessity, I have taken to reviewing all his homework for him and sending it back to him to make corrections. This has made for some extremely late nights of homework, and more than a few battles. I think no matter what happens, I end up being a homeschooling mom - to one during the day, to the other after supper. The 6 am rise-and-shine time this past week was brutal--doubly so on Monday after staying up until 1:15 am Sunday night/Monday AM to finish assignments that were due. Why these were not done until the very last minute is bad parenting on my part. I should have pinned him like a bug to a styrofoam board with questions about whether his homework were done or NOT. Sadly, Monday night we had a similar experience - getting math done and then, REdone. The Tuesday morning commute passed in virtual silence, D stretched out in the reclined car seat, scrabbling for 30 extra minutes of sleep as we drove the 167 freeway to school.

I don't remember much of this week except for being very tired. This morning I awoke at 8:30 and still wasn't completely rested. I can't seem to shake off late nights like I used to. No doubt it has something to do with age.

And for the record, this May will bring my 40th birthday. I am debating whether to pull out all the stops and plan a big shindig, or just let it pass and ignore it completely.

What I'm reading right now: The Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill, Vol. 1 by Manchester. I had gotten about 3/4 of the way through, but didn't clinch the deal by finishing the book, so I'm starting over. This week I did not make much headway, with the exhaustion factor playing a heavy part. My goal this year is to read one non-fiction book for every fiction book I read. A. guffawed when I mentioned this to him. Clearly, he doubts my resolve and ability to stick to this. He is probably right, but one should set goals when embarking on a new year, fresh with no mistakes in it!

What I'm pondering right now: Stewardship. I have one life, one body, (one Lord, one faith, one baptism...) - and since taking the Dave Ramsey class from September-December have been thinking in terms of credits and debits - not just with finances, but also with my time, my sleeping habits, with my eating and exercising patterns, in my personal relationships....... Stewardship. I don't truly own any part of me --or my so-called possessions. It's all the Lord's. Am I managing these things in a profitable way for my Lord, as a good steward should?

I haven't made any "resolutions" this year - I never do. But I do like a good theme to build my thoughts and plans and life around. Sometimes a theme takes me several years to explore fully. This idea of stewardship should keep me suitably occupied for the rest of my earthly existence. I will be updating my personal mission statement sometime "soon" (my weasel word-of-choice that gives me all the procrastination time necessary) to reflect the idea of Stewardship. If you have thoughts, wisdom, insight, and scripture to share, I will add it to my notebook.

And with that, it's now 9:33 p.m. and I have church bulletins to print. Stewardship in action!