Catch Your Fish First

Several weeks ago in Sunday School, one of the participants said that his dad was always fond of saying, "Jesus likes to catch his fish before he cleans them." That has stuck with me.
We have several people at church who recently came to Jesus. Not only did they recently come to Jesus, but they did not previously have Judeo-Christian moral behaviors/tendencies. That makes a lot of Jesus's teachings foreign, to say the least.
Why wouldn't God want me to live with this guy? He is good to me, never beats me, shares his money with me; I don't understand what is so awful about living together.
Why would God care if I told a white lie? It didn't hurt anyone and no one got their feelings hurt. In fact, it made you think better of me than if I hadn't told it.
It would be so easy to ignore these people. They don't understand the rules and teaching them the rules is going to cost me something. But Jesus would not have ignored them. Jesus would have taught them the rules.
BUT Jesus would also have welcomed them into his embrace before they understood all of the rules. Even the Twelve Apostles didn't understand Jesus, and look at what he was able to do with them! Jesus caught his fish and then cleaned them, not the other way around.

The Darling of Heaven

While I'm talking about music and singing, I wanted to mention this song. We sometimes sing Worthy Is the Lamb at church. The last time we sang it, the phrase "The Darling of Heaven" smacked me upside the head. I love my boys. They are my darlings. I would do anything for them, give anything to them, offer them my very life. If I had to make a choice between one of my boys and a busload of people being killed, I would choose my sons. Every time.
God had more than a busload to think about. He had the whole world. And he chose to save us over his son. His One and Only Son. His very being. His Darling Boy. Wow.

Thank you for the cross Lord
Thank you for the price You paid
Bearing all my sin and shame
In love You came
And gave amazing grace

Thank you for this love Lord
Thank you for your nail pierced hands
Washed me in Your cleansing flow
Now all I know
Your forgiveness and embrace

Worthy is the Lamb
Seated on the throne
Crown You now with many crowns
You reign victorious
High and lifted up
Jesus Son of God
Darling of Heaven crucified
Worthy is the Lamb
Worthy is the Lamb

Christian lyrics - WORTHY IS THE LAMB LYRICS - HILLSONG UNITED

Singing

Sunday Preacher Man answered the question we have all been dying to know: "What's the deal with no music?" Our congregation sings a capella during worship, and it often throws people off when they visit. Those who continue to visit, and eventually become a part of us, often ask why we don't have music.
Well, first of all, we do. Singing is a form of music. We sing a capella, which means "in the manner of the church". The church sang without instruments for many hundreds of years before introducing instrumental worship. It made a lot of people angry. It caused divisions. It "rang people's bells" so to speak. But eventually the mainstream Christian churches adopted the use of instrumental music in worship.
Preacher Man talked about our desire to live as closely to the Scriptures as we can, and that singing is a command. Not a smack your face and go to Hell if you don't sing type of command, but instruction in how to encourage each other and how to worship God. So we sing a capella.
Two events came to mind during the sermon. One was from fifteen, nearly sixteen!, years ago. I was past my due date with #1 and feeling slightly nervous. Hubby was in the back room studying for class, so I sat in the livingroom by myself and sang. I sang to God about His greatness, about my love for Him and His love for me, and I sang to myself.
Hubby came out after a while to ask me to please be quiet so he could study. My eyes welled with tears as I tried to remain calm. Then it occured to Hubby why I was singing in the first place, "Are you scared?" "Yes, terribly," I answered. Like Paul and Silas singing in prison, I was reaching out to the One I knew who could sweep away my fears.
The second event ocurred this past February. #2 had invited a friend to Gatlinburg to attend Winterfest with the youth group. Many of us were disappointed in the singing because there didn't seem to be enough of it and it was always the same songs. Usually we sing for an hour and the variety is lovely as well. On the way home, as we discussed the weekend's events, the invited friend commented that he enjoyed the singing the most. His church doesn't sing very much, a few songs each Sunday. How that changed my perspective on the weekend's music! What had not been encouraging to me had been to him.
Worship is often about me. I need encouraged, uplifted, grounded. But it is also often not about me, but about the one sitting next to me, the one I need to encourage, uplift, and help ground. All of that with the ascending and descending of voices. Amazing.

Yes, They Work

This is #1 going to work at the Radio Reading Service. He was so excited on the first day when they gave him a key to the place. It made him feel very big and important, like he was responsible and trustworthy. I believe he has proven himself to be so.














He goes in once a week and prepares the newspaper articles that will be read. He runs the sound board, and if he has a helper that day, he directs him/her in the reading. Often his readers don't show up, so then he has to read for the whole hour too.














He has been responsible for contacting hte director about dates he needs off, and about other things that happen. He is a good boy, and quickly becoming a great man.










Here is #2 with his science exhibit. He will display it sometime this school year, but since he did the experiment over the summer, I wanted him to get it all done now before he forgets what he did! We start all of the Biology experiments this week. Here we go!!!

New Bern

 While we were in New Bern Saturday, Hubby and I took about an hour for ourselves. We just wandered the streets and looked in a few shops. It was nice to wander hand in hand for a bit.

We walked through this church's memorial garden. The architecture in New Bern is beautiful, some of it dating from the 1700s!










This church is one of my favorite places in the state. Christ Church was established in 1715. The original church no longer stands, but where it was is outlined with a brick wall. Inside the wall are these benches where you can sit and meditate or pray. The area is covered with huge trees draped in Spanish moss, and around the area are old grave sites. It is very serene and beautiful, even though it is in the middle of town.







Sarah Haywood, died 1791.











Isn't it beautiful?












Will anyone remember me in 300 years? It is a place that puts life in perspective.

Brother's Day

Today is the Eleventh Annual Brother's Day, we think. The tradition started about at ages four and two, so that would make it eleven years ago, but we might have to  give or take a year. #1 says he remembers going to the Mexican restaurant in Arlington that has trains going around it, so that definitely was quite a while ago. I had forgotten all about it.
This year we celebrated on Saturday by taking the boys to New Bern for a few hours. We ate at a Mennonite restaurant we all enjoy, and then walked around town. I got a few pictures, but really they were being so goofy!

                                                                                    I so wish I could record our lunch and dinner conversations. These boys keep me in stitches and I am going to miss them terribly in a few more years.

The big excitement in New Bern was watching the draw bridge raise. We are easy to excite, I know.


We stopped in one shop for snowcones. They had a gazillion flavors, and even though I don't care for snowcones, I tried one. I still don't care for snowcones.









#2 tried "Silver Fox", I had Creme Soda, and Hubby had Cherry and Red Raspberry mixed. We also sampled "Foxy Lady" and "Tiger's Blood".


Here's to another year of brotherly love!

Casket Doors

 These are pictures from our trip to Winchester, VA. One of our stops was to visit Stonewall Jackson's Headquarters. The house where he stayed during operations in that area is now a museum of sorts and offers tours. This particular architectural feature intrigued me. In one room there are "casket doors". Under the window the wall was used as a small double door so that during deaths the casket could be slipped out of the house into the hearse or wagon.

What intrigued me about this feature was the fact that the builders thought about not only the life of the owner, but also the death that was sure to take place. So many people these days buy a house and never expect to be there the rest of their life. I certainly don't have any thoughts that I will spend my whole life in this house.
But even more than just a house, people don't want to think about death in any situation. We have euphemisms for death so that it doesn't seem so direct: passing on, going home, crossing over. We speak of those who have "gone ahead" or whom we have "lost". But we don't speak about the actual act of dying; it is too dirty for our clean, little lives.
I was reading Luke this past week and was caught by this: "He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to Him all are alive." Luke 20:38 The Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection of the body, to them death was final. I can not imagine what my outlook would be if I thought this world was the end in and of itself. To know that God is not finished with me when I die means the whole difference in my outlook on life, and yes, death.
Death might be painful, hopefully it will be peaceful, but it isn't final. It is a goodbye to what I have known here, and a hello to what I have hoped to know but couldn't. God built my house with casket doors, and I know that one day he will slide me out of this life and into the one to come where I will live with Him for eternity.

We Don't Really Know What We Are Doing

I have a degree in Elementary Education. I believe that degree, combined with the common sense and discipline that my parents and extended family administered during my formative years, prepared me to be a pretty good parent and teacher. I taught for about four years before I became a parent, and then I taught for two more years afterward. I planned on returning to work once the kids started school.
But halfway through public school Kindergarten, my husband and I came to realize that school was harming our first-born, and we brought him home. It was with the plan to send him back the next year when he was more mature, but I guess he never matured, or we just really liked having him at home with us. Whatever the reason, we now find ourselves ten years later still educating our children at home.
Both boys are in high school this year, and I am having to teach some higher thoughts than my Elementary Education degree prepared me to think. Hubby, thankfully, has stepped in with Algebra, and we are hiring a tutor for #1 to do Algebra 2 and Discrete Mathematics. American History is fun, and I can handle that. I have planned some interesting field trips for the whole family to enjoy, and soon we will be heading to Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown.
But Biology is a problem. When #1 went through it two years ago, a friend taught it to a group of kids. I happily handed the subject over to my professional nurse friend, knowing that she knew more about Biology than I. But her family situation has changed, and now I find myself once again under the shadow of a huge Biology text book.
After scanning through the chapters and choosing experiments that look interesting, easy to accomplish, and not too expensive, I ordered supplies. Last week a shipment containing a mushroom garden and a dissection kit for five echinoderms arrived. The dark jars of dead matter attracted my son much more than they interested me. I also spent a day at the pet store searching for snails and worms and mealworms. Oh, it's going to be fun! Last night I ordered photosensitive paper and a Triops kit. Tomorrow I head out in search of brine shrimp. (I call them Sea Monkeys.)
Another box that arrived last week is one that has me curious and extremely cautious. I ordered something called blue biuret solution from the Biology Supply Company. I had to have it shipped to my school, sign an affidavit that it was for educational purposes, and promise my first born grandchild if I mishandle any of the solution.
Today I took it out of the box. The box labelled "Danger Keep Out" and covered with blackskulls and cross bones. Inside the box was a lot of bubble packaging and a slip of paper again stating to handle with extreme care. There was a red plastic bag containing another plastic bag containing a sawdust-like mixture containing the bottle of biuret solution.
At that point I decided perhaps I don't really know what I am doing educating my children. But we sure are going to have fun doing it.

First Day

Today is the first official day of school for us. We have co-op with a bunch of other kids for the entire day. I am teaching 3 classes again this year, all of them writing! I have been wondering the last few days if I have gotten in over my head. That is a lot of grading to do!! The largest class has 10 kids, so it isn't as bad as if I was in a public school.
I had a great summer and I really don't want it to end. I got a lot done around the homestead, and I planned a lot of the school year out. Now that it is time to do something with what I planned I am stalling for more time.
As a kid I never would have guessed that teachers didn't want to go to school!

Hills and Mountains

I grew up in rural West Virginia. Okay, so there isn't much of WV that isn't rural, but it really was where I grew up! I have a memory of visiting my grandparents on the other side of the county. As we drove down the dusty dirt road I looked to my left and saw a man cutting hay with a tractor. Honestly, it would not have been unusual for me to see what I saw, but for some reason it hit me hard and still lives in my memory.
What I saw was a farmer making hay on the side of a steep hill. I was terrified that the tractor would flip over on itself. My family's farm is, of course, also on a very hilly tract of land. To brush hog some parts of it, you have to drive at an alarming angle. It's the way of life there.
The hills are often problems. Walking up Nestor Hill always takes your breath and energy. As a newby driver getting caught in a snowstorm going up Lewellen Hill was nerve wracking to say the least. My husband, as a young man, had to mow grass on the side of a mountain, never a fun chore.
The hills and mountains also provide great blessings and beauty. They can be treachurous, yes, but what I miss most about my home state is the mountains. I love the way you get a new scene depending where you stand. I enjoy the sight of a hillside of autumn color. I think of rolling hillsides of wildflowers, sledding down a winter lane, and hanging tight to a horse's mane while we slid into the creek at the bottom of the hill.
Mountains and hills need to be viewed with careful perception. There is a good side to a mountain, as well as a bad and dangerous side. Forging through the mountainous difficulties makes the morning sunrise of disappearing fog and mist the most beautiful sight you will ever see.

For a Season

I hung laundry out on Thursday. It was such a pleasant day. The scorching heat of summer vaporized with a storm on Wednesday, and finally I could breathe when I ventured outside. I love spring in Eastern Carolina. The weather is warm and balmy, flowers burst forth in color, and daylight brightens even the darkest corners. Summer's beginning is not too terrible, as days warm and trips to the nearby waterfront to look at boats and enjoy an ice cream cone are common. But then summer hits full force and I can't stand to be outside. The heat and humidity take my breath away, quite literally, and slogging through a day trying to find comfort in air conditioned rooms is about all I can accomplish.
Now, enjoying the sweet smell of freshly mown grass and new laundry off the line, I again enjoy summer's pleasures, but it is not far from my mind that autumn will be here soon and then winter will burden me with dreary days of grading papers, shuffling children, and trying to decide what to cook for dinner.
These earthly seasons are not so different from life's times and seasons. It seems that a lot has changed in my life in the last seven months or so. My circle of friends has changed, my relationship with my older son has been rerouted, my animals have died, my life has been altered. I tell myself it is just a changing of the seasons, but I think of it with the shadow of an approaching autumn. I know good things are ahead, but eventually all of the old ones will disappear in a winter of relationship. I must not become too attached to this ever-revolving world. For everything there is a season.

Are Your Frontal Lobes Connected?

I have a friend whose husband is a neuropsychiatrist. He studies how the brain affects behavior, basically. One of his and his wife's favorite sayings about teens is: "Their frontal lobes aren't connected yet." The frontal lobe helps you make rational decisions. Some other friends and myself are not so scientific in our behavior declarations. We just say teenagers turn stupid for about 5 years. #2 definitely doesn't have his frontal lobes connected yet, and I am thinking that he has turned stupid. He is 13 after all.
I came home last week from an errand, and he welcomed me with this: "I scared myself. I saw some broken earbuds, and I put one in my ear. There wasn't anything attached to it, so then I couldn't get it out. I kept trying to get it out, but it kept getting deeper in. Finally I got tweezers and got it out."
Really? I thought he knew not to put things in his ears!
Then today he was mowing the yard. I got out of the shower, looked out the window, and saw that the mower was stopped and no kid in sight. Coming out into the hallway, I called for him. "Why aren't you mowing?"
"The mower kept spluttering, so I thought I better turn it off."
"Did you put in gas?"
"Oh. No."
I am certain he could have figured that out a year ago. Stupid and disconnected. How many more years?!

Garbage is Genetic

Hubby and I had been married a few years when we were living in Abilene, Texas. He was in graduate school, and I was teaching full-time and also had a part-time job. Now, his program was difficult, I admit. He had to learn dead languages, read a multitude of thick, ugly books, and listen to old men drone on and on. But all I asked him to do was two things. Would he please do the laundry- which meant going to the apartment complex laundry room- and would he take out the trash.

After a while, I gave up on the laundry. I had some hours free on Saturdays and he needed to study, but I was adamant about the trash. I mean, I was only asking him to do one thing!

So when the trash piled up over the bin and onto the floor, I kept my mouth shut and waited. He didn't empty it. Finally, one night while I washed dishes, I blurted, "Aren't you ever going to take out the trash?!"

He was genuinely shocked to see that the trash needed taken out. He is such a focused person that the trash was not on his radar. After that I worried less about how the house looked, because he certainly didn't have any idea that the house even existed.

 Fast forward about eighteen years, and the picture above is what you get. The trash obviously needed to be taken out, but #1 balanced a pie container on top, since there obviously was more room! I literally have to force the boys to take trash out of their rooms, even though the bin is overflowing onto the floor. "It doesn't need taken out JUST yet," they explain. When I got back from my two weeks away, I informed #2 that the trash in his room absolutely was full enough and needed to go!

We filled this huge dumpster last month with trash from our barn and yard. It was about 5 feet tall and I think 14 feet long. Yes, that's a lot of trash, and we still have more! Mostly we put in wood from tearing down a shed and a fort.
In the last few weeks I have been inundated with trash from fellow homeschoolers and church members. I wish I had a big dumpster where I could throw away all of the negativity, selfishness, greed, and spite. But I can't throw away the people that I love, so I am stuck with garbage. Just like my sons following the footsteps of their father, I guess these people are following the footsteps of all of the people before them. Garbage is genetic.

Froggy Summer

Remember this guy from earlier this summer? We were overrun by tiny frogs early this summer due to all of the rain. These tiny little guys were jumping across our path as Hubby and I took our evening constitutional.


 

  

Evidently quite a few of them lived through the summer, since I foound this on the kitchen window recently. I was preparing for bed, walked in the kitchen for a drink, flipped on the light, and saw this guy on the window catching bugs. He was happy to have the light on because the bugs came over to it!



There was a frog on the door frame one night as I was walking in from feeding. We have a motion detector light on the back porch and he was popping insects left and right as I walked in the door.



WV was dry this summer, but it didn't seem to interfere with the frog population. I passed three dead ones on my walk the other morning. Dead from cars, not drought. Ugh.

Monday's Walk

 I took another walk on Monday morning. Fog covered the hilltop when I got up, but in half an hour it was gone, so I headed out.
Water droplets clung to the grass and leaves, dripping on me as I walked under the black walnut tree at the end of the drive.
A few cars passed me, but mostly the road was empty, quiet. The only sounds were cows, colts, and chick-a-dees.





You see why I like visiting my parents? The scenery is perfect. The pace is slow. The demands are neary non-existent.
















I remember running down this lane to catch the bus in the morning. I remember riding my bike down the hill and scraping my knees on the rocks as I fell. I remember sledding down it in the winter and sliding up it in the car.







Maybe I like these walks in WV because they always end up on Memory Lane.

Pretty Walk

I went walking Sunday morning before my dad left for church. I went about 3.5 miles round trip. On the way back home, I stopped to pick this beautiful bouquet of flowers.

All of the flowers were growing together in one area. Yellow, orange, and white, they just seemed like someone had planted them on purpose. When I got home, my dad asked whose yard I picked them out of. God's.




Isn't God amazing? He is a great artist, landscaper, and florist.

A Treat Defined

This is a treat, at least it was when I was a kid. It's called milkweed. 

See the white stuff coming out where I picked it? That's the reason for the name, milkweed. 

You can split the pod in half lengthwise. 

 Inside you will find this little fish hidden away.

 If you wait until fall to pick the pods, the fish inside are silvery instead of white.

The "tail" of the fish will flake off in feathery pieces and float away on the wind.
When I was a kid I loved to pick these sticky pods, open them up to discover the fish, and then tear them apart to float away.
Last week I was talking to my mother-in-law about getting an Icee and a soft pretzel at Hill's Department Store. It was a real treat, something that only happened 3-4 times a year. My son, #2, then piiped up with, "Yeah! Let's have a treat and get an Icee!" I informed him that he doesn't have any idea what a treat is. He can get an Icee almost weekly if I am feeling generous. Something you can get weekly is not a treat.
I haven't opened milkweed for years. That was definitely a treat.

God Provides the Blessing

I watched a spider eat a small flying insect just now. Standing in my parents' livingroom, staring out the large picture window at the rain falling on a dry summer landscape, I noticed at the corner of my eye some movement. I just cleaned the windows yesterday, removing all of the spider webs and old bug leftovers. Yet, here, less than 24 hours later, a spider has erected a new web and waits for dinner.
The rain is pouring, but the spider hides safely in the crevice of window and frame. The wind blows, but the spider never worries. She has done her job; she put up a web. Now it is time for God to send the blessing. Dinner arrives, Spider eats, all is well.
I need to be like that spider. I need to trust that God will provide what I need, when I need it. I have to do my part, but once my web is out there, it is in God's hands. I have to persevere, perhaps hanging my web more than once, but God is faithful. And just like the spider in my parents' window, I will be fed. Even on a rainy, windy day, God will send comfort in the storm.

I love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies. Psalm 18:1-3

Cooper's Rock

Nothing says invincible like standing underneath a humungous rock and living to tell about it! After visiting the top of overlook, we headed on the Underlook Trail. It was so fun to see the kids climb over the rocks and feel like they were doing something exciting and dangerous.

 After lunch we headed onto the Rock City Trail. The kids liked squeezing back inside the crevices and scaring themselves as they thought about slimy things that might live there. It was about 15-20 degrees cooler walking in between the rocks too. How wonderful on a hot, steamy July afternoon.

Visiting Cousins

We decided about a month ago that we would see my brother-in-law's family while in WV. They live in Indiana and were able to swing a few days off to visit with us while we were here. #1 especially was looking forward to seeing the cousins. "I'm always amazed at how big they are when we see them. I remember holding them when they were babies." He's starting to sound like an old man, huh?

 Visiting Morgantown with Hubby means we HAVE to go to Wings Ole. Fries with bleu cheese, chicken wings, and celery are his favorites. I get a bean burrito, not nearly as exciting, I know.

The kids put up with going, but I don't think it is their favorite place. They enjoy getting a table all their own, though.

 We decided to go hiking the second day. This statue was at the park. I told the kids to act like they were sleeping with the Giant, but onlt #2 tried it. The rest thought he was a bit strange.

 Many of my WV readers now know which park we went to for hiking! Cooper's Rock is a special place for our family. It was one of the first places where Hubby took me after we met. Actually we rode with another girl, and I thought they were a couple because she sat up front. Afterward he asked if he could show me around town, and the rest is history. My brother-in-law took his wife there to propose to her, and my in-laws celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary there. It is a beautiful place.

 Notice all of the kids are on a ledge, except for #1. That boy is just tall! We had a fun day picnicking and hiking. More pictures coming soon!