Making the Connection

"Our first child was so perfect. She was smart and talented. When she went to school, she did everything just like she was supposed to. Things went well. Then our second daughter was born...well, she was different than the first. She had a learning problem. Her teacher told us, 'if you had had only one child, you would have thought you were the best parents in the world'."

The speaker says, "You are kind of like that--only backwards. If you had had only two children you would have thought you were the worst parents in the world."

Raising children. Hmm, that's a very difficult topic.

In the preface of the book the author writes--When I was right out of college I had ten rules for raising children...but no children. Now I have children, and ...not one of my rules is left.-- Sound familiar?

Rule number one: Never think you 'know it all'. 1Corinthians 10:12 Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.

My friend Lin says in embarrassment, "I used to take my two perfect daughters to church and they sat and were just as good! And I never quite understood why those 'other kids' were noisy, and...they just weren't as well behaved as my two. Then Charity was born. I have repented of my previous attitude, I don't know how many times!"

I don't know how many times, as I watched some childish misbehavior, I have at least thought "I would just die, if my children ever did that!' and turned around to find that, yes indeed, there they were--doing the same thing...or something worse! And no, I didn't die, but I was looking for the proverbial 'hole in the ground'.

"I have never met any 'perfect parents'," my son says as he waves his fork in the air.

"No, there are no perfect parents, that's true," someone says agreeing. "But I know several people who BELIEVE they are the perfect parents."

What is the measure of a 'good parent'? Is it that all of your children are perfect?

"I just look and see how people's children have turned out...then I follow what they have done."

Really? The problem with that is all things are never quite equal. What may look like the 'perfect' plan with one child or in one family, may not be right with another child, or in another family. We can (and often do) listen to the experts tell us how and what to do, but honestly most experts aren't--experts. One book I have found helpful (after, of course, almost all of my children were raised) is 'Train Up a Child' by Gwendolyn Webb. There were common sense answers to common problems.

"Spanking children teaches them violence," my acquaintance states knowledgeably.

"If that is so, why is it MY generation (and most previous ones as well) that were disciplined by spanking were not as violent per se, and the Spock and forward generations that are undisciplined are much more violent?" I question. She has no answer.

Luke 7:35 And wisdom is justified of all her children.

"Well, they may not have been perfect parents, but they were the best ones I had!"

One thing we all need to keep in mind are the teachings of God. God's answers are right, and He is the Perfect Parent.

The parent/child cycle will continue. The child today will be the parent of tomorrow. What seems unfair to the child today, may make perfect sense to the parent of tomorrow.

And God's ways are the key to having happy successful homes and families.

It is most always easier to raise children...when you are a child. Children often can tell Dad and Mom how to raise children. Or it is often easy to raise children...when you have no children....

Proverbs 16:2 All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; But Jehovah weigheth the spirits. 3) Commit thy works unto Jehovah, And thy purposes shall be established.

More...

"Well, that's just your opinion," someone answers crossly when you point out the need for...well, just about anything they don't want to do.

At what point does failure to do what God commands become something that will cost a person their soul?

Acts 2:38 And Peter said unto them, Repent ye, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins; and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Two older women sit reading and studying their Bibles together. One of the ladies turns to Acts 2:38 and says to her companion, "See, right here, we are commanded to be baptized. It says plainly--repent and be baptized--."

"It doesn't say that in my Bible," the other woman says.

The first woman can't believe her friend is so blind, "Well, just turn to Acts 2:38 and you can read it yourself!" she insists.

"It isn't in my Bible," the other woman says testily. "I cut it out."

How many of us would be so bold, yet, how many do that very thing if not in fact at least in their own mind.

"I just don't think God will judge me in this..."

We know there are sins of omission, and sins of commission. The ones are sins of things we fail to do for whatever reason, and the other are sins we commit...for whatever reason.

Luke 12:47 And that servant, who knew his lord's will, and made not ready, nor did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes; 48) but he that knew not, and did things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes. And to whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required: and to whom they commit much, of him will they ask the more.

What a quandary, to be beaten by the Lord, or to be beaten by the people.

Ezekiel 33:6 But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned, and the sword come, and take any person from among them; he is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at the watchman's hand.

Some things seem so simple that people don't see the sense of it and therefore decide they don't need to do it. However, just because you don't see the need...

"Well," the speaker gives the illustration, "the young man's father is going on a trip. And he tells the son, "Son while I'm gone I want you to fix the fence over here, plant a tree in this spot here by the fence, and paint the barn red."

The father leaves, and the son looks things over. Indeed, the fence needs repair, and the tree will go nicely where his father wants it planted, so he follows those instructions. After all that is finished he goes down to the barn and inspects that project, but decides that his father is wrong, that barn doesn't really need painted....

"In what has the son followed his father's instructions?" the speaker asks. "In nothing." He decided what he would do, and as long as it agreed with what he WANTED to do--that's what he did. He did what he wanted to do."

So, the question comes to each of us...what are we doing? What are you doing? What am I doing? Let us do the will of the Father.

Matthew 17:5 While he was yet speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them: and behold, a voice out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him.

Luke 20:13 And the lord of the vineyard said, What shall I do? I will send my beloved son; it may be they will reverence him. 14) But when the husbandmen saw him, they reasoned one with another, saying, This is the heir; let us kill him, that the inheritance may be ours. 15) And they cast him forth out of the vineyard, and killed him. What therefore will the lord of the vineyard do unto them? 16) He will come and destroy these husbandmen, and will give the vineyard unto others. And when they heard it, they said, God forbid.

What can we learn? First thing: Jesus is the beloved Son. Second thing: we are commanded to hear (follow and obey) Him. And third, if we don't reverence him--The obvious conclusion is we will be destroyed. Only two choices, only two paths.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

From Grandma's Button Box

"Mom, I need a couple-a-buttons sewed on my coveralls."

"Oh, you do? Why's that?" I ask.

"They have gotten baggy, and they would be more...snug this way," he demonstrates--showing me where he wants the extra buttons placed. "Will you do that for me?"

Time, you know, is always short these days, but later in the evening I do indeed have him pull out my 'button box'--actually an 'antique' can with a screw on lid.

"Ho, buddy, what about this one?" I hold up a gold filigree button. His look of disdain and a short, "hmp" is his answer. I chuckle and continue to sort through the pretty buttons scattered on my table.

We do find two buttons, I mark where he wants them placed, and I begin sewing them on. I pause to look at the button box buttons still scattered where I left them. My mind wanders back to my Grandma's button box as I look at the many pretty buttons.

"There is a story of a young girl who made a necklace from pretty buttons from her mother's button box. There are stories of important people using their buttons as special signs to other people who have befriended them....

Matthew 13:47 Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind: 48) which, when it was filled, they drew up on the beach; and they sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but the bad they cast away. 49) So shall it be in the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the righteous, 50) and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.

I am reminded of the 'net' that was cast into the sea and gathered of every kind. I can look through the button box, and indeed, there are every kind of button. From the intricate lacy gold button to the plain functional plastic button. There are many different colors, shapes, and sizes. I have every kind of button imaginable, but buttons, no matter whether fancy or plain, have a purpose.

"Oh, look--the shank is broken off this button. It is rather pretty, but it isn't any good!"

I have pondered over this parable of Jesus for many years. It wasn't until I was teaching a young girls class that I began to comprehend the message. If the kingdom--the church--is like unto a net that gathered of every kind, then when they sat down and began to 'sort through' the contents of the kingdom...

Many people believe that once they obey the gospel their ticket is punched for heaven. They are part of the kingdom and they are on their way!

Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God afore prepared that we should walk in them.

There seems to be two schools of thought: one--that we are saved THROUGH our own good works, or two--that we can't do anything to gain salvation. Well, yes and no. We can't EARN our salvation, but just like a broken button that is pretty, if we don't fulfill our purpose we are useless. As Ephesians says we are: "created in Christ Jesus FOR good works".

I want to be 'gathered into the vessels with the good', not like 'the bad they cast away'. Therefore, getting one's ticket punched is a good start. It is a necessary part, but it is only part.

Philippians 3:12 Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect: but I press on, if so be that I may lay hold on that for which also I was laid hold on by Christ Jesus. 13) Brethren, I count not myself yet to have laid hold: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, 14) I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Let us continue to press on, lay hold, stretch forward--unto the prize, unto the high calling of God...in Christ Jesus!

Past...and Present

I listened to the speaker as she briefly related the highlights of her life. Her actions carried to my ears and eyes a slightly different message than what she was saying with her mouth. "My mother was a single mom, and life was hard for her..."

What I felt she was saying was: "I know it was hard for her...my brain accepts that...it was hard for me, and in my heart I still hurt."

Anger, resolved or unresolved, sometimes it is hard to let go. We often seek to understand things, wrestling with emotional demons that continually throw us to the ground. These feelings can make us feel unworthy, unloved, and often as not unloving.

Colossians 3:12 Put on therefore, as God's elect, holy and beloved, a heart of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, longsuffering; 13) forbearing one another, and forgiving each other, if any man have a complaint against any; even as the Lord forgave you, so also do ye:

It is at times hard to forgive the slights that happen on a day to day basis, but time often dulls the antagonistic feeling from people's unkind or thoughtless words or actions.

The baggage we carry from childhood appears to be that which wounds the deepest.

"That woman doesn't deserve your love or compassion!" My cousin has just found out that my mother is dying of cancer.

As a Christian we are commanded to forgive...from the heart.

Have you ever seen children playing and the one play fellow does something...takes the others turn or toy, or perhaps pushes or shoves--most of us have witnessed the scene. Then the offender is brought to justice: "Say you're sorry...right now!"

Little tyke mumbles into his/her shirt something that sounds much like the words, "I'm sorry". But are they? And if they are what are they sorry for? If they are sorry for anything it is usually that they have been caught.

"She really wasn't a very good mother, was she?" Another cousin states.

"No, she wasn't," I answer with a sigh. But my mind goes back. I'm not thirty any more...matter-of-fact in a year and a half I'll be the same age she was when she passed away. I think back to the time when I was twenty, twenty-five, thirty--could I have navigated those years any better--or even as well--without God?

I remember the difficulties we went through raising our children. It was not easy--not even for two--let alone a single person. I am not excusing nor accusing. She made her decisions, and good or bad we all partook of the fruit of those decisions.

Ephesians 4:32 and be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, even as God also in Christ forgave you.

Emotions are tough things to get around. I am still ashamed at my attitude as a young person. My mother married and divorced four times--twice to the last man--wending her way through life--as many would say today--doing things HER way. I remember my mother at one point when life looked pretty bleak, crying, "I just want to be loved."

I was not old enough to love beyond the hurt, and I was honest enough I could not reach out and say to her, "I love you," or even express in a hopeful mode, "I will love you, someday".

No, she wasn't a very good mother, but how many of us would stand up to our own scrutiny? She wasn't a bad person, just a lost and lonely person. Not being able to change the past, there is no reason to dwell on, or agonize over it.

Human nature being what it is, why do most people--instead of learning and changing from painful childhoods--follow in those same paths?

"Oh, that person had a traumatic childhood. That is why they..."

Excuse me? Exactly--that is an excuse, but not a reason. When people follow in those paths it is because they CHOOSE to follow in them. The paths of least resistance, you see.

Lamentations 3:22 It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. 23) They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. 24) Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.

1Corinthians 15:10 But by the grace of God I am what I am:....

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

The Year Turns 21

There was not any air moving as Gene sat in the porch swing. He held up the piece of cherry wood, closed one eye and squinted at his creation. Blowing the dust and some of the shavings off, he started carving on the other wing of the figure.

"I thought you were going to get your shoes resoled," Agnes and Jed took a break at the kitchen table close to the open window.

"Well, Reggie had those shoes made for a customer, and the fellow backed out of buying them. Reggie gave me a good deal on the shoes, same price it would have cost to get these resoled, so I took the shoes. I can always keep the papers in my shoes...till I can get 'em reworked, that is."

"You did get a good deal on the shoes. They fit well, and Gene sure likes them. But you're going to have to get something done with those pretty soon, Jed..."

Gene stopped whittling, and wiped his brow with his sleeve. So, that's why his Uncle hadn't gotten his shoes resoled like he threatened to do all spring. Gene began methodically working on his wood again pondering while he cut the curlicues.

"All in time. It's been so hot and dry...sure a good thing I didn't sell any of my surplus last year," Jed exclaimed measuring paper from the old catalog.

"It's that bad isn't it," Agnes agreed thinking on her stunted garden. "There wasn't anything but dust when I planted my garden, and what did find moisture enough to come up," she grimaced and shook her head. Well, with no rain...nothing. Grasshoppers...and...some kind of worms keep eating off anything that's growing above the ground..."

"Yeah, the oats came up and started, but they're pretty well cooked. Nothing to 'em. If this hot weather keeps up it'll cook the corn in the field too," Jed said as he finished placing the paper in his shoes.

"I'm so thankful we have the spring down on the east forty. Don't know what we'd do for watering the stock otherwise. Bessie said their well has dried up, and a number of other farmers around have the same problem. Wells have dried up and they don't have any water-"

"The ones that're really hurting are the ones that went out and bought that big machinery, and bought the land...now they can't pay up. And the livestock--they don't have feed for 'em, but what's worse in this drought they can't even water 'em. I saw it acomin'! Seems like folks just don't watch." Jed spoke up.

"I just don't know, Jed." Agnes paused thoughtfully. "You don't suppose David's on to something--do you?"

"I just can't figure that God, being so high and all, I just can't figure that he really cares about us puny folks down here."

"God doesn't always answer us exactly how we think he should," she thought of the number of prayers she had sent heavenward for a baby, a child of their own, "but I kind of feel like he cares...I've been reading my Bible more, and it says that God cares. We still have a few eggs and cream to trade at least."

"I plan on going in on Friday morning if you need some time to get things together. Right now I'm just going to go work on some wood working in the shop. Guess I could oil the harness too--while I'm at it..."

"Uncle Jed, why do you still do most of your farming with the horses? Couldn't you do more work, and faster with a tractor?" Gene asked as they drove along the dusty road into town on Friday morning.

"I figure it this way, Gene," he waved to a neighbor walking down the street. "Why go into debt when a good horse can do more'n one thing? They're versatile, and a good horse is cheaper. Besides, when I talk to my horse he understands. I can walk along side a horse an' wagon, when I want Ol' Ras to move ahead, I says to him, Git up there Ras! He moves ahead some an' I say, Whoa! Boy! And he stops. A tractor? Folks get ta thinkin' something's wrong with a feller that talks to his tractor," he said with a grin. "After we unload the cream and eggs here at Hockstedt's Creamery I've got some business at the dry goods store. Help me unload--then I'll meet you at the Doolittle's," Jed turned off the engine and they went to the trunk for the produce.

"Meet me at Doolittle's," Jed reminded Gene with a wave as the boy started out at a brisk pace toward up town. He passed the Opera house on the corner of the square, walked past the G. A. Undertakers and Furniture shop and Mr. Glen's Barber shop, with its red and white barber's pole outside.

Neil King drove into town and parked in front of the First National Bank. "I'll be down to the Barber shop after I finish here." He flipped Reece a shiny quarter, "...here's a quarter, you can meet me at Mr. Glen's in about forty-five minutes," he told Reece as he turned toward the large brick bank building.

Reece eyed the candy section at Miller's Dry Goods Emporium. A quarter sure didn't buy much, he frowned thinking of the days at his father's store when he would just help himself to the wares.

"Hey!"

He glanced up as a familiar voice spoke close beside him. "What ya doin' Spike?" he asked.

"Aw, you know the usual. Not much. Pa's here to get a hair cut and some groceries for Ma." The big kid shrugged. "Haven't seen you around much lately. What're you doin'?"

"Bout the same as you," he made his selection and headed up to the counter to pay. The two boys walked outside and started down the sidewalk. Reece took a piece of his candy. "Where's Willie and Sam?"

"There they are, coming up the side walk," Spike pulled something out of his pocket. "Here," he said handing goodies to the others as they stood beside him.

"You didn't get me none of those WhizBangThings," Sam complained as he stuck some candy in his mouth.

"Aw, shut up! Ole Lady Miller was watchin' me too close...if it hadn't a been for Reece here you wouldn't a got what ya did..."

Reece scowled, "I don't like it when you steal when I'm around."

"Aw, lighten up. I'm not stealin' from you, besides my Pa can't afford stuff like your Pa can," he said with a shrug.

Reece popped another piece of candy into his mouth and watched as Gene Wade came out of Reggie's Shoe Repair across the street from where he stood outside Mr. Glen's Barber Shop...

Gene had an idea and as he went from Reggie's Shoe Repair, to the Littleton Star Laundry, the Hotel Exchange, and several other businesses along the square it seemed to fall into place. Now all he needed was Uncle Jed's permission. After stopping at the Littleton Hotel on the other side of the street, he headed toward Doolittle's.

"Mornin'! Where ya goin' in such a hurry..." as Gene came around the corner Spike Nelson and two of his pals barred his path.

"I'm going to meet my Uncle over at Doolittle's," Gene started around Spike, only to have one of the other fellows grab his arm.

"Not so fast. We want to have a little chat with you--" with a leer the second boy grabbed his other arm.

"Yeah," Gene spoke quickly. "You guys think you're pretty big stuff, don't you? Easy enough for three of you big dopes to beat up one guy. Too bad it takes all three of you to whip one of me..."

"Whaa..." Spike had wound up a punch, but he stopped in mid air.

"You heard what I said," Gene taunted him. "You're cowards. You couldn't fight me one at a time. It takes all three--you're scared to try a fair fight!"

"Who you callin' a coward?" Spike's face darkened into a heavy scowl. "I'm no coward! Let 'im go Willie--Sam. Yeah, I'll fight ya one on one!" he started to square off for a fight, his fists pummeling the air.

"Just a second," Gene said unlacing his boots. He tied them together. Spying David walking down the sidewalk, "David!" he called out, "here, hold my boots will ya?"

"Sure," David came over and took the boots. "What's going on?"

"Just hold the boots, please." Gene turned back to face his opponent.

The pair circled each other for a time. Gene just biding his time not getting in a hurry. He knew Spike's kind wouldn't wait long. Shortly, Spike threw a punch, but Gene ducked and wheeled out of range. Flustered, Spike moved back in and threw another punch. This maneuver went on for a short time, and each time Spike threw a punch and missed he became more angry.

Gene's wiry body was deceptively thin. In the last two years it had filled out and had become hard and muscular from the rigors of farm work. He danced and moved about easily, not throwing any punches, just staying out of reach. Spike, continuing to waste energy throwing punches, was beginning to wear down and tire from the unaccustomed exercise.

Gene moved in quickly and with a short jab to the jaw, caught Spike off guard. Spike swung a fist back at Gene, but he was wide and wild. Gene ducked back out of range, then moved in again. A quick jab with his left, caught Spike on the other jaw.

How--and why--am I in this fight? Spike wondered. Who is this crazy kid? That Reece King! He had said this kid would be easy--as thin and light as he was--called him a country bumpkin. Reece had promised him fifty cents... Spike's head began to reel as Gene continued to jab and feint. He'd never seen him before today, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ever see him again.

"Hey! Hey!" David poured water on Spike's head as he lay in the dusty side street. "Hey, come on, big guy," he repeated.

"He's alright isn't he?" Gene worried. "I didn't mean to harm him none. It's just they were going to whip me up, and I figured..."

"No, he's alright. He's coming around," David helped Spike sit up. "Come on big guy."

Between David and Gene they got him over to the curb and helped him sit down. "I--I'm sorry, fella. Didn't mean you any harm," Gene apologized.

"Here," a voice above them spoke and a hand shoved something at Gene. "You deserve this. Go have an ice cream. You and that kid there."

Gene looked at the money in his hand, and stood up to watch Neil King marching his son toward their car. "What?" surprise was written on Gene's face as he turned to David. "What was that?"

Glen, the barber, stood at the entrance to the side street, chuckling. "Reece didn't realize when he made a deal with Spike there...his Pa was standing in the doorway... overheard the whole conversation...I think Reece will have a new understanding of life real soon... Come on over to Green's Soda Fountain--it's on the house. Haven't seen a better fight in a long time, boy!"

"Holy..." Spike gaped in wonder at the inside of Green's Ice Cream Shoppe .

"That's enough swearing," David frowned and reprimanded Spike.

"This is some place!" Spike exclaimed, his mouth hung open. "I never been in here before...they always run me out--before," he sat gingerly on the round stool in front of the counter.

Gene sat on a stool beside Uncle Jed. "Look at that mirror!" he leaned over and whispered. "and the marble counter! "Everything's so fancy,"

"Well, I don't know, son. Agnes and I have come in here before, but I almost don't feel dressed right..." he said taking his hat off, and straightening his shirt collar.

"You look fine," David assured him. "Besides, it's early yet. Not many folks are around. What would you like?"

"I'd kinda like..." Jed hesitated, "What would you suggest?"

"How about a double chocolate malt?" David asked.

"Sounds fine," Jed answered.

"What about you two boys?"

"I heard them Banana Frosted's pretty good," Spike said, his mouth watering.

"I really don't know," Gene thought hard. "I guess I'd like--I'd like the same thing that fellow there has," he answered as a clerk handed the guy next to him an order.

"What we want here," David told the clerk, "A double chocolate milk malt, for Mr. Wade here, a Banana Frosted for our young acquaintance, and Mr. Gene wants the same as what Mr. Slater there has," he nodded at the man as he sat eating a chocolate milk shake."

"What about yourself, sir?" the clerk inquired.

"I'll have a chocolate peppermint smoothie, thank you."

"Let's sit over there at the table," David led the way to a dainty round pink-marble table. He sat down carefully on the wire sweetheart chair.

"This here's real good," Spike said as he carefully took a spoonful of his treat. "You know that's real good of you...I mean, you winnin' the fight an' all..."

"Sure...well, I..." Gene broke off embarrassed.

"Who are those boys?" Jed spoke as he watched an employee from Green's Ice Cream Shoppe walk out and shake a broom at two bedraggled boys who stared in the window.

David glanced up just as the two ruffians made their escape down a side street, "Oh, just a pair of local urchins," he continued to enjoy his ice cream. "Boys like those need something good to occupy their time. You know Spike," David paused, "umm, that's good! You know, Spike, I'm looking for someone about your size to help me do some work. What do you think, can you help me?"

"Yeah, I guess," Spike had an uncomfortable moment and he dared not look at Gene as he stared after the two escapees. "I mean, as long as I have time, I guess I could," he stammered.

"That was sure good. Thank you," Jed cleaned up his malt. "Yep, that was sure good."

"I guess I'll see you two tomorrow..." David said as they walked to the door, "Bessie and I will be over for supper. You have the dominoes ready!" he challenged Jed with a chuckle.

"Alright, we'll see you tomorrow," Jed nodded as he and Gene turned toward their car. "That was sure fine ice cream, I sure wish Agnes was here. So, how was it you met up with that Spike fellow?" he turned on the ignition.

"I'm kinda confused about the whole thing myself, Uncle. I was on my way over to meet you at Doolittle's. I turned the corner right close there to Mr. Glen's, and when I did--why there were these three boys there--Spike was one of them. They were going to whup me..."

"All three of 'em? They were fixin' to commence to..."

"Yeah, beat the tar out of me. Well, I called 'em cowards, and told them it was funny it took three of them to whip one of me," Gene shrugged. "I guess Spike isn't as good a fighter as he thought he was."

"I don't take much ta fightin'," Jed said. After they rode along in silence he asked, "Where'd ya learn to fight like you do?"

"You know Pa used to do some fighting. Almost professional, but not quite. Ma never liked the fights. I don't either, but I was around them some--that and there always seems to be people like...well, like Reece--and Spike. They just don't feel right unless they can push someone around. Usually someone skinny...someone littler than they are."

"I guess I've known folks like that too," he spoke quietly with a sideways glance at his companion, as a vision flashed through Jed's mind of a skinny pathetic boy. A boy with large blue eyes. "I still don't like to fight, but your Aunt Agnes is right, I guess. Sometimes a person has to do what they have to do...."

Agnes stopped folding the laundry and listened, careful not to miss any details, her face creased in a thoughtful frown. "Tell me again, now. You want to do what?"

"I've talked to several businesses in town. They could use a runner, a messenger, a..." Gene's brow puckered as he tried to think of the title. "For instance, Littleton Hotel needs someone to run messages, pick up laundry, just general errands for themselves, and sometimes for their customers...and the laundry needs someone to deliver laundry...and things like that. I'm going to--if it's alright with you and Uncle of course--run their errands, for a wage of course--four days a week."

"How ya gonna get into town and home again? And what about school comin' up?" Jed asked.

"I haven't got all the cricks worked out. I thought maybe I could get a wheel--you know one of those bicycles cheap. For school, instead of working during the morning, I'd work a couple evenings and maybe on Saturday," Gene explained.

"We don't have a lot of field work right now..." Jed reasoned. "It's been so dry even the cows aren't giving much milk. I think maybe you have a good idea. I wish I could help with the bicycle..." he frowned and rubbed his chin.

"When did you think to begin?" Agnes asked.

"Thought I'd go back and let them know tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Jed and Agnes chorused together.

"If I wait too long--"

"Well, that's right. What time tomorrow?" Jed took a sip of his coffee.

"I can walk in right after morning chores. The businesses I talked to thought I could probably start any time."

Threads...

"I'll take a diet," my friend says to the waitress as we sit down for a visit.

"I've got one I'd give you...for free," I say in jest, and we all laugh.

Diet. A regimen of eating we usually equate with eating for good health. Everyone has a diet, but not all are really healthy.

"You need to watch your salt," the doctor warns my Grandfather.

"You know, just a few years ago they told us to keep a little piece of salt in our pockets, so that if we became over heated while working in the field..."

"Well," the doctor cautions my 85+ year old Grandfather, "been making any fence lately?"

Poor doctor-- little did he know, it hadn't been but a couple of years,and yes, indeed--my Grandpa had been making fence. That is quite another story. The point is that from one year to the next the 'experts' tell us one thing is good for us, or bad for us depending on the year, the expert, and circumstances.

"Everyone's strange but thee and me, and sometimes I even wonder about thee," my Grandmother would nod sagely. She always had a little 'saying' to fit the moment.

"Why?" the little child asks. And every answer you give they have the same question, "Why?"

Lamentations 3:39 Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins?
40) Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to Jehovah. 41) Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens.

Ever had a child--age is no respecter of this behavior, I've seen adults do the same thing--they do something they KNOW they shouldn't. They blatantly rebel against the 'rules', then when punished they cry, "What did you do that for?!" or worse "You got me in trouble!" When in reality it is their own choice or choices that caused their suffering. They act as if, "Well, there is just something wrong--with someone else--it's not MY fault I got in trouble."

Jeremiah, the prophet, has cried and prophesied to people who would not hear, would not see, would not turn from their evil ways, for many years. He has watched the Babylonian army march on his beloved country--his beloved city, Jerusalem. Finally, he watched the destruction of all that he held dear. The devastation and heart break of war was all around him, yet he asks:

"Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins?"

And he gives them an answer--"Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to Jehovah. 41) Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens."

Lamentation 3:48 Mine eye runneth down with streams of water, for the destruction of the daughter of my people. 49) Mine eye poureth down, and ceaseth not, without any intermission,
50) Till Jehovah look down, and behold from heaven.

Jeremiah kept in mind that: "For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men." Lamentation 3:33 God does not enjoy punishing people, but as the writer of Hebrews 12:6 tells us "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, And scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.

Hebrews 12:7 It is for chastening that ye endure; God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father chasteneth not?"

We must remember as Jeremiah encourages: Lamentations 3:24 Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. 25) Jehovah is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. 26) It is good that a man should hope and quietly wait for the salvation of Jehovah.

Sometimes we suffer, and we don't see a reason. Sometimes we suffer, and we know the reason. No matter which it is, we need to learn from our experiences whether happy, sad, good, or bad. The law of God is not whimsical. That means it isn't one thing one minute--for one person--and something else the next minute--for someone else. And His care is only for our benefit...whether we can understand it or not.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

Today

Today is crisp. Yes, crisp as in somewhat above 32 degrees.

Well, back to this beautiful autumn morning. It is just warm enough for me to crunch through the very CRISP dead brown leaves to the clothes line. Me, being of the 'old school', that when it is even slightly possible, I still walk out to that line and hang the laundry 'out' to dry. Which also means that when it is 'dry' it may be still slightly damp when I bring it in. But oh, how fresh it will smell! With that in mind--who needs 'air-freshener'?

Do we ever realize how much we miss by leaving the 'old days' behind? The women used to meet and talk (surely not gossip, very shocked face--smile) over their backyard fences. And, of course it was a fact that you could 'read' what was happening inside the house by what hung on the line.

Hospitality? (Sigh) Caring for neighbors? Who has time any more? Even though I'm a 'home' maker, and I have all of the 'time saving devices', still it keeps me running to just keep up with my spouse and fifteen year old son. I had as much time when all seven of my dear children were home as I do now. There was extra work sure enough, but there were extra hands as well.

Folding my son's work shirt reminds me of 'ironing' tasks of days gone by. My mother, when finances allowed, hired out her ironing--how surprising in these days of 'perma-press' clothes, or our 'wear as they are...wrinkles and all' society of today. --When finances did not allow, and we did our own ironing, (something we girls were taught when we were VERY young) we would sprinkle them lightly with water, roll them up, put them in a plastic bag in the bottom of the fridge for the evening. They ironed up crisp and fresh the next day.

When living with my Grandparents, there were usually three baskets of ironing. My sister did one, my cousin did the other, and I did the third. In cleaning the collar and cuffs of my husband's white shirt I am reminded of my Grandfather. Grandfather deemed it his duty to always wear a white shirt, even though he was a 'farrier' and a farmer, two jobs which were not the cleanest. Never-the-less, he wore a clean white, long sleeved shirt every day.

My Grandmother always seemed to get something of 'color' into the white clothes. Back then we girls wore 'white tennies' (that you could just throw into the wash) and white socks...except when we ended up with something red in the white clothes...then our shoes and other white things were lovely pink. Was that on purpose I wonder...Grandpa's shirts were never 'pink' to my remembrance...hmm.

Little Ezra's baby afghan is waving gently in the early afternoon sunshine. I am choosing to believe that, instead of washing out his 'good luck', as the old wives' tale says, I have washed in some sunshine and a lot of God's blessings for him. Smile

Well, family, and friends, there are many remembrances, some good...some just remembrances. As we are approaching the 'Thanksgiving' holiday may we all remember to whom we owe all things. We should all be thankful for God's bountiful care and blessings, and be mindful to throw ourselves upon His mercy and grace for a continuance of those blessings throughout the coming season, and the coming year.

3John 1:2 Beloved, I pray that in all things thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!