A - Z

Another stolen idea from Jones

A - Animals. I love them.
B - Bran Flakes, my new vice.
C - My maiden initial
D - Dogs, Lucy and Bear
E - Elaine, a friend I had lunch with
F - Forsythias, I miss forsythias.
G - Gordo, my Babo. I appreciate him.
H - Heaven, won't that be nice!
I - Indifferent, my emotion of late
J - Johnny Cash, he's been on my mind.
K - Kathleen is Hannah's middle name. When she was 6 weeks old we met a vicious Kathleen and Gordon hasn't liked the name since.
L - Lacy our cat, may she rest in peace.
M - Mena, my home town
N - New medicines, I'm sleeping too much because of them.
O - Orangutan, I have got a good orangutan story but I'm too embarrassed to tell it.
P - Paint, what color shall we paint the living room?
Q - Quilts, I love quilts.
R - Rivalry, two of my girls are really into it.
S - Sewing. I cut out a camo skirt for Rachael today.
T - Trust in the Lord Valerie. Trust in the Lord.
U - Unmotivated, I'm looking forward to it passing.
V- Vegetable Stew, it's for supper.
W - Weary, I feel a little weary.
X - Xcess weight? Nuh, uh. Not here!
Y - Youth Group, "Amazing Race" was Friday
Z - Zimbabwe. I saw an East Indian doctor last week and he asked if my accent was Zimbabwe.

My Day in Court

I had to go to court as a witness yesterday. It was a cultural experience. Never mind that the accused was pitiful and I didn't want to see her thrown in jail, (she got a $2800 fine and 36 months suspended license) the remarkable thing to me was the leftover English tradition.

To be quite honest, I wasn't just appalled, I was mildly offended. Maybe I should back up a little. Bear with me as I bring these stories together. A couple years ago, I began to admire some of the Catholic traditions and the respect expected in their chapels. I went to mass on several occasions and I also went to pray in a few Catholic chapels when nothing was happening. Others, good Catholics I presume, would sometimes enter the sanctuary and bow before the crucifix before they took a seat. They sat and prayed a while and then when the would exit, they would bow again before the crucifix.

I was truly impressed with the reverence expressed. Several times, all alone in those chapels, I wanted to bow before the crucifix as an expression of worship. At my church once we had a wonderful service about the cross. When we went up to take communion, once again I wanted to bow before the cross as a symbol of thanksgiving.

A lady who was a fairly new Christian who grew up Catholic bowed before the cross as she approached it. I wanted so badly to feel the freedom to do the same. Her Catholic upbringing, however skewed it was, allowed her that freedom, where my Baptist upbringing made it so foreign to me. I wanted to offer my bow of worship, but fear of what others thought of me prevailed. I didn't bow. And all those times in the chapels when I felt a powerful desire to bow, I never did it.

Yesterday at court, I was startled as the lawyers began to enter. They bowed before the judge. Before they left the courtroom, they bowed again. It was just like the Catholic tradition of bowing before the crucifix, but it was the judge they bowed before. I realize they were performing a ritual to show respect to justice and it wasn't really bowing to the judge. It was bowing to the justice system the judge represented. It was a mere symbol of submission and respect. But given my experience with desiring to bow before the cross and being unable to, I was offended.

And THEN this happened: As lawyers approached the bench or began to present their case, it always started with, "Your Worship." I literally could not believe it.

When we got up to leave, (I was with my neighbor), he turned and bowed. He waited a split second for me to bow. I was appalled that I was expected to bow. I did not. I sped my gait afraid the judge would rebuke me. Of course he did not.

So that was my day in court. Addressing the judge as "Your Worship" and bowing before him was way more than I was willing to do. Stacie said I should have said, "this is the wrooooong denomination."

Unrighteous Ramblings from Bluesville

David Berry, the syndicated columnist from Miami, says that the difference between a successful writer and and unsuccessful writer is that when a successful writer has nothing to write, he sits down at his computer and he writes anyway. The unsuccessful writer, when he has nothing to write, doesn't write.

Well, I've got nothing to say. I'm sitting at my desk, still feeling blue, -- I've felt that way for about a week. Two neighbor children are over, my kids have the run of the house. Everyone is happy because I just created some delicious homemade granola bars. They really are pretty darn tasty. If you request the recipe, I'll be happy to give it to you, but since I'm not about exchanging recipes, you will have to ask.

I read a blog today that made me chuckle hard. The blogster was an Episcopalian priest. He wrote that his wife's mother was staying with them and as he told the story of her annoying ways, I could sense his rising blood pressure. Before the blog was finished he was swearing and saying some less than loving things about said mother-in-law. It was hilarious. I know that as Christians we should "rise above" the temptations to slander and ridicule. I know we should strive to be loving and kind in all situations. Why is it that I feel encouraged to hear Christians be really honest about their struggles? When people who are serious about their faith admit with passion their weaknesses, I almost love that person immediately. I've not been attracted to the "got it all together" kind of person in a number of years. There was a time when I strove to have it all together, but I've found that the admission of my insanity is really quite refreshing. Besides, have you ever noticed that the "have it all together" people are boring and come off plastic? Well, I don't want to be boring or plastic. Those got it all together types really bug me. They just don't warm the coddles of my heart at all.

I'm not pregnant world

First off, let me get this off my chest. I am not pregnant. It kind of hurt when the doctor's office called to tell me "your lab result was negative." I had worked up a pretty good excitement over the possibility. So that leaves the possibility of Menopause. I thought that was what happened to old women, not young women like me. :-)

I got an interesting letter from a great aunt I've never met today. I had tracked her down and written her to ask her lots of family questions. She turned out to be a goldmine of genealogical information. I've already written her back and am looking so forward to the next letter from her. She is 83 years old and still has a sharp mind.

Yesterday was not such a great day. I sat in the doctor's office for well over an hour. When I walked out I saw my van had been creamed in the side by a young man in a Mustang. Poor fellow, his insurance is about to go through the roof. Gordon took the van for estimates this morning and it will cost around $4000 to fix it. What is irritating is the inconvenience of it all. We put the window down this morning and now can't get it back up. Growl. I don't like driving a van that looks all beat up. It's hard on the pride.

Last night some of my guests got here before I did and that was frustrating too. But it was a good evening. Turned out that my guests took care of me. 2 of them washed the dishes and even mopped the floor. Did I look as tired as I felt? I must have, because that hasn't happened before. We had a good evening, but I was really really tired and went to bed as soon as the last guest left.

I'm still reading Walden and finding it challenging and thought provoking. Henry David Thoreau says: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what it had to teach...I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so steadily and Sprartan-like as to rout all that was not life... to drive life into a corner and reduce it to its lowest terms.... Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say let your affairs be 2 or 3, and not 100 or 1000." I like that. Does anyone else out there?

Back to Work

Good Morning. It's around 5 am and I'm alone in this quiet house. The children are on spring break and last night they got to do something they hardly ever do. They spent the night with Gordon's mom. We went over there and had quite a nice visit. We left childless and it felt kind of weird. Gordon has already gone to work, and that leaves me here alone. Well not completely alone. Lucy is at my feet and Lacy sits on the back of the sofa.

I've not felt well over the past few days. Dog tired and still a bit nauseous. I don't know what is wrong. Gordon left a post it note on the computer screen with my ob's phone number. We are still wondering if I might be in the slim 1% of the population that gets pregnant after a tubal. I feel pregnant. Fatigue, nausea and giving up my morning coffee. All the same clues I've always had. I have to admit, the possibility, altho very slim, really excites me. At this point I'll be disappointed if it's not so. I've dreamed all weekend about the possibility.

Today I go back to work after leaving my boss the letter regarding my raise. I'm a little apprehensive, but not too bad.

Tonight our Bible study group has supper here. On supper evenings all the children come as well, so I'll have around 16 people in the house. It's a bit of a jungle on supper nights, but the fellowship is fun.

Good Friday

It's 630 on Good Friday. Before I moved to Canada I had never observed Good Friday in any way. It was just another day of the year. Since moving here, I've much appreciated that Christians and churches honor the day. We will go to our church service later in the morning. Pastor Shaun is extraordinarily gifted in the way he prepares for these things. I have never know a pastor who "prepares" the sanctuary for worship. But our pastor does. He sets the tone for worship and it truly makes a difference for me.

Our Good Friday service is of an incredibly somber tone. Whereas there is usually music playing when we enter the sanctuary, today, most likely, we will enter a dark quiet sanctuary with candles lit near the front. The purple cloth that has been on the cross through lent (another season I never observed before moving here) will be replaced with a black cloth. When we sing, if we sing, our songs will be mounful. For example, if we sing songs of the cross and Jesus dying, we will NOT sing the last verses of his resurrection. Today's service is intentionally void of hope, resurrection, joy. When we leave the dark sanctuary we will be acutely aware, even if minimally, of the disciples and followers of Jesus' despair on that first Good Friday. I've observed over the past several years that even after leaving the sanctuary, people hardly speak to one another in the foyer. There is such a somber atmosphere, that it feels incredibly out of place to say, "you want to go for burgers?"

People usually avoid all niceties. We simply go home after the service, hardly even saying hello to our friends. Over the next day and a half, we will remember the sorrow of the early days when the followers of Jesus were without hope. Their Master who was supposed to save them from oppression had died. He turned out to be helplessly void of all power. We contemplate their despair.

BUT on Easter Morning our service will be RADICALLY full of life. There will be bouquets of fresh flowers everywhere. JESUS IS ALIVE will be the joyful theme. It is so far beyond any Easter I ever experienced in my life prior to Canada.

Deborah's Easter party at school was sweet. My girls are in a private Adventist school. It's a wonderful school and I'm so thankful we are able to send them there. It's about a 1 1/2 blocks from our house so that is remarkably convenient. When I got there, the kindergarteners were having a quiet communion service. They had little pieces of pita bread and little glasses of grape juice. The teacher read the Scriptures and explained why adults take communion. It was cute to see these little 5 year olds drink "the wine" and eat the bread.

After communion, all the children wanted to know if it was true that Deborah got to pick out my clothes, shoes, earrings, etc..... Evidently she was so excited that I was coming to her party that she even told them she "dressed me". They were all kind of puzzled. I don't think they believed Deborah when she told them, so they wanted to know. I was proud to vindicate my sweet Deborah.

The girls in Deborah's class adore me, if I must say so myself. They argue over who sits next to me and try to get on my lap. In another setting I'd love to have them on my lap, but Ms Long is a bit of a harsh teacher and I'm afraid that she may be inclined to think that 5 year olds are too big for laps. However they climb on my lap, me feeling any minute we will be rebuked - them for being on my laps, me for treating kindergarteners like babies. The girls would intentionally lose in Musical chairs to run over to me. When the music stopped they would yell at each other that they had to take the chairs. "I was at Deborah's mom first." Once there were 3 empty chairs and I had four girls arguing to stay with me. Again, I was "afraid" of a rebuke from the teacher. Fortunately it never came.

My children are awake now, so I must quit my blog time and make breakfast. May God be glorified in me today.