In Favor Of Aging

I was rather grumbly when I saw an envelope from my insurance company on the counter when I came home from work the other day. I pay them six months in advance. And I don't want to hear from them between times.

I regretted my grumbliness, though, when I opened the envelope and found enclosed an "age change check."

Don't I get another one at age 25? Who said life goes downhill after 21?

Going Downhill Now (??)

I always knew that 21 is popularly honored as a significant age.

I didn't know how much so until shortly before my birthday. That was when I overheard a conversation between two people in their mid-twenties who agreed that "life goes downhill after you turn 21."

I think they meant that being old enough to drink...I mean, to drink legally....is the proper peak of existence.

Apparently, my existence is on a lower plane. Someone told me on my birthday that I should at least buy alcohol, even if I didn't plan to drink it. I just stared. Then in a flattering display of my newly birthed maturity I sputtered, "What a WASTE!! Do you know how many candy bars I could buy with that money, and actually eat them?" (He laughed.)

I was informed again on Saturday that there is nothing left to look forward to after 21. I admit, there is a side of me which finds it all rather funny. But there is a side, too, that is sobered almost to the point of tears.

It is no joke to live life in a sea of souls who can't hope for anything more than legal intoxication.

How can I ever sit untouched in the midst of such hopeless, purposeless, meaninglessness?

I, who knows each year that I am redeemed from sin. Who counts each year a year closer to Christ. Who hopes each year to be more like Christ. Who plans each year to enjoy life more because it is a gift of God. I....how can I sit untouched? How can I not mourn? And how can I be silent when I know there is a better way??

Calling All Worms

...book worms, that is.

Jaclyn has assigned me an impossible task. That's right, she tagged me with The Book Quiz. And each question demands only *one* answer.

I think all true bookies will agree on the impossibility of such a task.
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1. Please name one book that changed your life (besides the Bible, of course):

Actually, I have had different life changing books for different "seasons of life." Probably the one that affected me most dramatically was a biography of Rees Howells by Norman Grubb. Elisabeth Elliot's biography of Amy Carmichael, "A Chance To Die", was a monumental inspiration as well.

2. Please name one book you've read more than once:

I rarely read books only once. When I was younger, I frequently finished the last page of a book and then turned to page one to start it all over again. I don't do it any more, but I still reread...eventually. One series of books that has never grown old for me after dozens of reads has been the "Raggedy Ann" Series. (Don't laugh, it's true.)

3. Please name one book you'd want on a desert island (besides the Bible, of course):

"Survival for Dummies."

4. Please name one book that made you laugh:

I laugh every time I read "Little Men." Also, there is a scene in "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm" where R. decides to punish herself by discarding her favorite pink parasol into the family well and ends up stopping up the water supply...it cracks me up every time.

5. Please name one book that made you cry:

I can certainly feel the emotion of books, but I rarely actually cry. "Tilly" was one of the few that got me teared up.

6. Please name one book you wish had been written:

"Ten Bad Reasons To Go To A Church." I haven't thought of all ten reasons yet. But I think "we go to this church because they have good programs for our kids" will be pretty far up on the list.

7. Please name a book you wish had never been written:

I'm so with Jaclyn on this one: "Origin of the Species" by Charles Darwin.

Oh, and "Endless Night." The absolute worst Agatha Christie book ever. (This is the only book that has ever made me mad. I felt so betrayed at the end when the killer was the ONE person I never suspected in the whole course of the book!)

8. Please name one book you're currently reading:

I'm between books. I just finished (re-)reading "Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch." The kids got it from the library and I needed a good homey fix of "Mrs. Wiggs." She is such an optimist.

9. Please name one book you've been meaning to read:

Revivals of Religion (Charles Finney)
Romeo And Juliet (Shakespere)
The Path of Loneliness (Elisabeth Elliot)
The Pursuit of God (A.W. Tozer--I've never finished it)
Rob Roy (Sir Walter Scott)

10. Now please tag 5 people:

Y'all aren't very taggable, I'm afraid. But just for jollies, I tag Paul, BJ, Anna, and Amber.
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That's all, folks.

General Announcement

Yesterday was the day, twenty and one is the age.

Funny, I don't feel a bit older than I did the day before.

But I am so glad God has started for me another year. Whatever else my year will hold, I pray that He wll teach me to know Him better. With this, I shall be content

Instant Disaster

My parents have been out of town the past few days. And I have been enjoying privileges generally reserved to grandparents (aka spoiling the children).

That's right...they've stayed up past bedtime, gone on outings, and had treat and sweets out of measure.

I think they've had fun, but there's been no danger of them mistaking me for a real Grandma. Partly because I am far too easily irritated to be truly mature. And partly because my work in the kitchen, while usually edible, doesn't always turn out perfectly.

Take my lemon meringue pie as point in case. Since Dad doesn't care much for meringue, we make rather a big deal out of fixing this treat when he's out of town. Fortunately, Dad isn't gone often enough for the treat to go old. The kids started begging for it weeks ago.

So I bought the ingredients while at the store last week. Here, I first failed the test of true grandmother-hood. Knowing that I would be working half of the time my parents were gone, I admit that I bought pudding mix and a pre-fabricated pie crust.

It wasn't until yesterday when I was ready to actually make the pie that I realized I had accidentally bought instant pudding.

At this point, with the wisdom of sixty years in the kitchen behind me, I might have served pudding pie instead.

But being only a big sister, and having promised meringue, meringue I was determined to serve. Further, since instant pudding I had, instant pudding I would use. It would have been a waste to do otherwise.

The pudding was ready in the five minutes the package promised, but I wasn't ready to beat meringue. So, meanwhile, I stuck it in the fridge. (This, even though I knew most of the recipes instruct one to spread the meringue over hot lemon filling.) My leisure for beating meringue didn't come until dinnertime, while I was waiting for pasta to cook. Peter was grating cheese while I separated the eggs, and he took the moment to inquire why the Nazis killed the Jews during WWII.

Perhaps under these circumstances I may be excused for forgetting my rule to separate eggs only one at a time. Instead, talking away, I separated them cheerfully one after the other into the same bowl. And of course when I broke the yoke of my last egg...I had to start separating all over again, having contaminated the whole bunch.

It was about this time that I began to be sure the pie would fail. When finally I started beating the white, I was disturbed, but not terrifically surprised, to see tiny droplets of grease fountaining out of the electric mixer. The mixer would be unruly for this pie!

Taking courage, though, and figuring I couldn't very well hurt it by beating, I covered the whole mess, put the beaters on medium speed, and finished fixing dinner. I must have kept it going for around 15 minuntes.

I managed to get soft peaks out of it. Happy even with that, I spread the whites over my pudding mix and popped it into the oven to brown. I checked it more than once, with considerable trepidation.

Despite all odds, it looked perfectly lovely when I pulled it out of the oven and set it in the fridge to cool. For the first time since I saw the word INSTANT on the pudding box, I had hope for my pie.

Alas! I really shouldn't have hoped to enjoy the priveleges of grandparenthood when I have none of the experience. At least, when I am a grandparent, I shall have already learned that instant pudding separates when heated.

But I doubt my grandchildren could enjoy totally-from-scratch genuine lemon meringue pie much more than my brothers and sister enjoyed pre-fab nothing-from-scratch lemon meringue...soup.

A Time For Everything

About once a year...

Usually in the summer sometime....

I watch one of my favorite movies.

Since my parents and brother are out of town. And the kids don't stay up until eleven-thirty. And I didn't need much of an excuse anyway...

I just finished the six hour version of Pride and Prejudice.

I loved and hated every character as much as I always do. And I never can decide whether I like Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth better. But then, predictably, I conclude it doesn't matter since as a real man and a genuine lady they live happily ever after in the end...

I'd quote my favorite line, except that I don't have just one. Besides, you know, it's one of those movies where lines mean less without an exact expression of face to match. So I shall be content to hoard up for myself a share of Austenianism to last a while. To last...maybe....a year?

By Faith

I am not a fan of twisty, steep, narrow roads. Especially when there is a minorly significant drop off to the side, no guard rail, and construction every mile or so. Especially when I'm being tailgated.

Fortunately, there isn't a fan club for twisty, steep, narrow roads in the fog.

As I was inching along a twisty, steep, narrow road in the fog the other day, I was enjoying not being tailgated. I also started comparing my foggy drives with my clear drives. I was trying to decide whether I disliked it more when I could see the drop off, or when I couldn't see the drop off.

More, I got to thinking about the life of faith and how often it seems like walking by faith is like driving in the fog. After all, it often seems that my whole life is dependent on unseens and intangibles. I am always having to change my ways to stay in His way. His way is hard. And it can be awfully lonely. In other words, it's full of curves, it gets a bit steep, and Jesus Himself called it narrow. Plus, I never know what He will do next.

But then comes this simple statement of fact:

"...we walk by faith, not by sight." (2 Corinthians 5:7)

I never quite realized before that this is an either/or statement. I can't walk by faith and sight any more than I can go barefoot and wear shoes. If I'm really operating under faith, what I see won't effect my course of action. If I'm living by sight, what I can't see won't really sway my choices.

And so I must choose. Faith. Or sight.

And the key to walking by faith?

Understanding that the road is twisty, steep, and narrow. There is a drop off to the side with no guard rail. I don't always seem to be making progress. And other people would love to push me off the road. To make the trip more interesting, the fog closes in occasionally.

But I'm not driving.

And no matter what the Driver does and where He takes me, it will be right. And I will be safe.

When All Else Fails

For the first time in almost twenty years, we are down to only one freezer: the little freezer over the fridge in the kitchen. Don't worry too much. It would have been unnatural to lug four freezers through as many moves...

But a family of seven really uses more than two square feet of freezer. I mean, it's pretty bad when you can't take advantage of the sales because you can't fit it in the freezer when you come home.

Or maybe not so bad...

When I was trying to find a space for frozen vegetables in the freezer tonight, I found I had an urgent need to use up the ice-cream.

'Till Death Do Part

Dad and Mom met in January 1982. You've heard of love at first sight, right? Dad wanted to set the date as early in the summer as possible. Mom didn't want to get married in July.

They were married on August 1st.

Yep! Twenty-four years ago.

I guess my growing up home has been pretty normal. I mean, I've seen better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health. The other thing I've seen isn't so normal. I've had parents who have stuck together through it all.

"Wow!" "That's a loooong time!"

Those are the normal responses of my work acquaintances when I tell them my parents are celebrating their 24th wedding anniversary. Together!

I find it sad that a 24 year marriage would elicit such totally awed amazement from so many people. It's fantastic, yes! But should it be odd? When did marriage vows jump ship anyway?

I have been so incredibly blessed to witness a marriage such as the one my parents have. More blessed than I realized as a child growing up. Blessed enough to say unequivocally that I want my someday-marriage to be cut out of the same cloth as theirs.

Blessed enough to see that as human beings we view our lives through a prism called Options. Every moment we measure a list of choices and select one to live by. And for me, in God's grace, divorce can never be one of the Options.

Because that's the way God wants it.

As my parents before me, I am committed to live through better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health 'till death do us part...OR until Jesus returns!

Whichever comes first.

Oh, and Happy Anniversary, Dad and Mom!