A Threefold Cord

Spurgeon on the conformity to the World

2012-02-07T18:55:00.000-06:00

How practical is this to today's Christianity or is this out dated too?
This was the sermon that was preached at Spurgeon's funeral, that Spurgeon actually wrote himself for another man.

People talk nowadays about Zeitgeist, a German expression which need frighten nobody; and one of the papers says, "Spurgeon does not know whether there is such a thing."

Well, whether he knows anything about Zeitgeist or not, he is not to serve this generation by yielding to any of its notions or ideas which are contrary to the Word of the Lord.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is not only for one generation, it is for all generations. It is the faith which needed to be only "once for all delivered to the saints"; it was given stereotyped as it always is to be. It cannot change because it has been given of God, and is therefore perfect; to change it would be to make it imperfect. It cannot change because it has been given to answer for ever the same purpose, namely, to save sinners from going down to the pit, and to fit them for going to heaven.

That man serves his generation best who is not caught by every new current of opinion, but stands firmly by the truth of God, which is a solid, immovable rock.

But to serve our own generation in the sense of being a slave to it, its vassal, and its valet—let those who care to do so go into such bondage and slavery if they will.

Do you know what such a course involves? If any young man here shall begin to preach the doctrine and the thought of the age, within the next ten years, perhaps within the next ten months, he will have to eat his own words, and begin his work all over again. When he has got into the new style, and is beginning to serve the present world, he will within a short time have to contradict himself again, for this age, like every other, is "ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth."

But if you begin with God’s Word, and pray God the Holy Ghost to reveal it to you till you really know it, then, if you are spared to teach for the next fifty years, your testimony at the close will not contradict your testimony at the beginning. You will ripen in experience; you will expand in your apprehension of the truth; you will become more clear in your utterance; but it will be the same truth all along.

Is it not a grand thing to build up, from the beginning of life to the end of it, the same gospel? But to set up opinions to knock them down again, as though they were ninepins, is a poor business for any servant of Christ.

David did not, in that way serve his own generation; he was the master of his age, and not its slave. I would urge every Christian man to rise to his true dignity, and be a blessing to those amongst whom he lives, as David was. Christ "hath made us kings and priests unto God his Father"; it is not meet that we should cringe before the spirit of the age, or lick the dust whereon "advanced thinkers" have chosen to tread.

Beloved, see to this; and learn the distinction between serving your own generation and being a slave to it.

The Observer

2012-02-05T14:36:00.000-06:00

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
Romans 8:28

Here is an not-quite-up-to-date update of our travels. Friday we woke up and got to work loading the truck with our friends from Tennessee, who arrived at about eleven forty-five the previous night, when all were asleep except my dad. (Unless someone was just laying in bed, not sleeping at the moment.) We actually did not have enough room in the moving truck and other vehicles for everything, so some of it went down to the co-authors of this blog's place into one of their sheds. (Note the first picture below.We encounters a detour on the way.)

After much effort and work, along with two other people who arrived, we were able to get in the road after dark on Friday night, although the actual time escapes my memory.

It was a dark and drizzly night. Actually, it really was.

We traveled, with four vehicles, until about three thirty on Saturday morning, when our destination was met. The drivers of the different vehicles, because they couldn't sleep on the way, and a few other people, who didn't sleep much, if at all, were tired.

The next morning, the same day technically, we woke up and, after help arrived, began unloading the moving truck along with my dad's truck and our trailer. It was quite a day, and by the end of it many people were very tired. But, the work was accomplished.

Today we went to the church to which our host and some other people that we have known attend. The pastor taught on Romans eight twenty-eight, highlighting the assurance in God's grace which belongs to true believers. It was quite fitting.


Some engine work on the way to storage.

Loading the truck.

On the road.

The following are some pictures that I took while transporting some of our belongings to storage.

2012-02-03T10:45:00.000-06:00

“Many people walk in and out of your life, but only true friends leave footprints on your heart.”—Eleanor Roosevelt

Mine is coated with smudges and scuffs that can never, ever be rubbed off. Mrs. F was unaware how correct she was when she surmised that I wouldn’t be the same after meeting her family. I’ve learned and tried new things—they bring out the daring side of me. They are proficient at killing me with laughter. They have given me a glimpse of what it might be like to have brothers. They’ve socialized me towards young children—I’m now at ease (and relish!) holding babies and interacting with toddlers. They imparted hope when the future looked bleak, lonely, and unchangeable—I’d almost resigned myself to the fact that our home state was a spiritual desert, devoid of sound teaching and the refreshment of fellow believers.

I’ll always remember the first time we played together, at the church wiener roast in October 2010. Oddly, I sensed then that something special was meant to happen between us all. I shall immensely miss their presence.

The Observer

2012-02-02T22:26:00.001-06:00

I apologize for the brief post, but I thought that this would work for now!

Mom and Dad left in the morning and rented the truck, and a friend showed up to help while they were gone. He, Charles, and I loaded some of Dad's tools into his (Dad's) truck (not the rental).

After a little while, our parents showed up with the rental truck and we commenced our work. We got our freezer and refrigerator, with our friend's help, out of the basement and into the truck. We continued loading for a while, and then the coauthors of this blog showed up to help. That was nice!

In time, our friend left.

Mom and Ema left out of town, leaving the coauthors of this blog and everyone else here to continue working. We worked until a little after dark, when our helpers had to leave.

My family and I kept working, loading the truck with some of what was left. Mom and Ema (and Wyatt, I might mention) came home with dinner—Kentucky Fried Chicken, of KFC. It wasn't too bad, and we don't do that that often.

Now, we are getting ready to go to bed, and some friends from Tennessee are on their way up to help. They will not, most likely, make it here until late tonight. Please pray for a safe trip!

Cheez-it!

Here are a couple pictures of the moving truck, and the trailer.

Here is Matteo on the John Deere.

Oops!

What did you do Matteo?

Here are some of our helpers.

2012-01-31T20:03:00.002-06:00

"JUMPING" - John MacArthur Rap from Nathan W. Bingham on Vimeo.

Christendom

2012-01-29T08:15:00.004-06:00

Preface: I wrote the following article in January of 2011. I attempted to have it published in a Christian webzine with a broad audience, but the editors barely even glanced at my query e-mail. (Although disappointed, I was not surprised.) Since then it has lain dormant in my files. I’ve held it sacred because it is the last piece of weighty nonfiction that my overtaxed brain has been able to crank out. (I’m not entirely sure why, but the flow of words and inspiration has receded to a faint trickle and is clogged more often than not.) I’m posting it now for want of anything else to contribute, and because I’m striving to turn the tide of this blog. I didn’t intend for it to lean so far in the direction of humor.

Oddly enough, the issue I decided to address all those months ago seems comparable to the problems we (the authors of A Threefold Cord) have recently grappled with. As I worked on reviving the article, dusting it off and airing it out, I was struck once again by the intensity with which I originally formulated the text. Perhaps I should not be so presumptuous as to bring the article forth at this time, because I am feeling much weaker faith-wise, but what better opportunity have I to demonstrate that God is sufficient and I am not?
___________________________________________________________

      “I am a Christian.”
      That statement earned the prisoner another slap across the face from one of the nearby soldiers. The Roman proconsul leaned forward, his gray eyes smoldering, and repeated the question: “Who are you, and from where have you come?”
     “I have already told you, my good sir, that I am a Christian,” the prisoner replied. He lifted his head and dared to stare directly into the governor’s eyes. “Thereby you know my homeland, lineage, occupation, and everything else besides. What more do you expect me to say?”
      The governor was silent for several long moments as he tapped his fingertips along the arm of his chair. The crowd murmured restlessly. Finally, he stood and addressed the entire court.
      “Send him to the amphitheater. He shall renounce his faith or die.”
      But the young man never broke. He was subjected to unspeakable torture and perished with the words “I am a Christian” on his breath. Such was the fate of many early believers. By the second century A.D., Christianity was illegal and believers throughout the Roman Empire faced imprisonment, torture, or execution. Round after round of interrogation afforded their accusers the same unchanging response: “I am a Christian.”* Though intended to mock followers of the Way (John 14:6), the epithet “Christian” was quickly transfigured—it became the sole insignia believers wore. It identified them as sinners cleansed by the Messiah’s blood, justified and bowed in loyal, loving service to Him. Because their association with Jesus Christ held serious implications for how they lived and died, to assert faith meant to deny self. The Name above all Names defined who they were and who they strove to imitate.
      Today the term “Christian” has deteriorated to a mere religious label, a behavioral analysis, a bumper sticker. People who conduct themselves contrary to Biblical standards treat Jesus’ name as an abracadabra-type confession that magically grants them admission into heaven. They give lip service—not heart service—to God, and are neither hot nor cold but lukewarm. Worse still, we know it. Daily we encounter superficial believers at work, at school, at the supermarket, on television, in church, online, and via literature. It’s disturbing and, also, saddening.

      I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a friend years ago. She was nine and I was ten, and our parents had enrolled us both in day camp. Aside from those summer classes I doubt we would’ve ever met, much less initiated a friendship. Our lifestyles were wholly diverse.
      One afternoon she brought up the subject of religion. I suspect this was due to a boy in our class named Justin, the son of two local youth leaders. He was always spouting Bible verses and painted the star of Bethlehem all over each of his projects. When he started “witnessing” to a fellow classmate, she turned to me and popped the question.
     “So, what religion are you?”
      I can’t recall my thoughts at the time. I do remember feeling caught off guard. Nobody had ever asked me that before and I wasn’t sure how to respond or what reaction I’d receive.
      “Christian,” I said.
      Her lips formed into a silent O. She returned to cutting shapes out of construction paper.
      “What about you?” I prodded.
      “Catholic.”
      My comment matched hers. “Oh.” Then the discussion ended. We remained friends for five years; in 2003 her family relocated to Florida and we switched to pen-palling. I never once shared the gospel with her. Looking back, I realize my behavior and actions weren’t enough. She seemed to expect very little of me. And, frankly, I did nothing to prove the faith I somewhat offhandedly professed. Probably my most distinctive attribute was that I shunned Harry Potter.

      Jesus cautioned His disciples to expect hostility (John 15:18-21). He explained that He came not to bring peace, but a sword (Matt. 10:34). Hence, as His ambassadors, if our very presence does not rouse indignation in others, we have cause to be concerned. Don’t buy the myth that half of America has been Christianized and almost everyone is in mutual agreement about God, life, and eternity.
      All evidence of godliness and common morality has been removed from public schools; our government is corrupt; violence, profanity, and occultism pollute the media and print industries; practices that scripture condemns are legal and celebrated; and scientific propaganda claims the universe was the result of a “big bang.” So what do we do about it? Nothing, absolutely nothing. We’re too busy constructing cottages on the beach, oblivious to the approaching storm (Matt. 7:24-27).
      Unbelievers aren’t repulsed by us or our values because we’re just like them. We fit in. We’ve grafted ourselves into the world’s system by compromising our principles—God’s principles. We foolishly suppose we’re shining our lights when in reality we’re learning how—and teaching our children—to be wolves and hypocrites. (See Prov. 12:26, Matt. 5:13, 1 Cor. 15:33-34, James 4:4, and 2 Peter 3:17’s warning.) We’ve diluted the gospel; doctrines such as sovereign election, the total depravity of man, lordship salvation, etc. have been replaced with free-will, prosperity, and self-worth theology to please sensitive ears. Instead of heaping coals onto people’s heads, we’re tossing burnt marshmallows—and the effect isn’t quite the same.
     (Please take note: I’m confronting the majority here, not the small, ever-present remnant that does adhere to practical holiness. I’ve been hesitant to adopt the title “Christian” because, first, it imparts only the shallowest connotations anymore. The standards have been lowered to a one-time acceptance of Jesus as Savior; henceforth the individual is free to continue on their merry way, no commitment required. I would rather be a nameless, born-again believer than associated with a bunch of phonies.** Secondly, I shouldn’t be telling others I’m a Christian. I ought to show them. Works do not earn salvation; works affirm salvation, are the result of salvation, and allude to inward transformation. Cf. Matt. 7:16-21; Romans, chapter 6; Eph. 2:8-10; 2 Tim 1:9; Titus 3:3-7; James 2:14-26; and 1 John, chapter 2.)
      We’ve all received the story about the gunmen and the prayer meeting in our e-mail inboxes, or seen it posted on a blog. Several armed persons, masked and clad in black, burst into a church and command anyone unwilling to die for their faith to leave. Immediately, a large portion of the group exits the room. As soon as they’re gone, the lead gunman drops his weapon, removes his mask, and quips, “Good. The hypocrites have defected. Now we can really start the meeting.” The account closes with a summons to choose between the two ultimatums and a charge to pass on the message. Far too many Christians forward the e-mail without stopping to consider what’s at stake, or the high cost of believing (Luke 14:26-33).
      The formula is not: Christ + me + whatever habits and material items I’m attached to = God’s approval. But it is: Christ + the Holy Spirit’s tender handiwork – me = regeneration (Ezek. 36:25-27; Luke 9:23-26).The cliché, What would Jesus do? is underrated. If you truly love Him, you’ll keep His commandments (John 14:15, 21; James 1:22-25). It’s that simple.
      Spiritual lethargy is dangerous—deadly, in fact (Rev. 3:15-17). I don’t care what you’ve done and haven’t done, or how insignificant it may seem. Whether you’ve listened to unholy music, gossiped behind a friend’s back, dressed immodestly, nurtured a feminist viewpoint, watched/read inappropriate movies/books, supported an ungodly institution, used course language, neglected to study the Bible, had an improper relationship with the opposite gender, or any number of “lesser” transgressions (i.e. not murder, theft, or dishonesty)—it matters. Repeated, habitual sin poisons the Christian walk and especially the Christian testimony (1 John 3:4-9). You need to set the record straight, because people are watching. We are called to be “blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom [we] shine as lights in the world” (Philippians 2:15). A light shrouded by a cloak of darkness cannot shine or even twinkle, and left unattended, will eventually die.
      Examine yourself (2 Cor. 13:5). Are you of the faith?

*J. Spencer Northcote, Epitaphs of the Catacombs or Christian Inscriptions in Rome during the First Four Centuries (London: Longman, Green & Co., 1878; repr., Whitefish, MT: Kessinger Publishing, 2007), 139. Reference cited in John MacArthur, Slave (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2010).
**As advised in 2 Thess. 3:6, 14

According to...

2012-01-28T14:09:00.002-06:00

According to Matteo, he can hit Miriam on the head with his toy if he wants to, because it's his toy.

According to Miriam, Matteo can't hit her because it is her head and he is not allowed to touch it.

According to Charles, Ema should never rinse dishes in dry water!

According to Charis, her doll was made in "Malay-uh-sayuh" (Malaysia).

According to Miriam, everything is made in China.

According to Matteo, God created everything—including cars, telephones, etc.

According to Charis, "She (Charis) will be shy."

According to Daniel, the saying either goes, "eat, drink, and be merry," or "eat , drink, and get married."

According to Ema, school takes too long.

Story of the Week: Who Done It?

2012-01-28T11:58:00.000-06:00

     “You stole that money, didn’t you?” Mrs. Hershon accused Andrew and Mario.
     Mario’s mouth fell open. “We would never steal anything!” he protested. They had been working at their town’s local grocery store for a couple of weeks to earn some extra money.
     “I haven’t been anywhere near your cash register. Besides, what would I want with $300?” Andrew defended himself.
     Ring! A customer entered the store.
     “You two can go home. I’ll talk with your parents later.” Mrs. Hershon left to attend to her customer. The two friends grabbed their coats and headed out the door.
     “I’ll have to pray for Mrs. Hershon,” Mario said sympathetically. “Ever since her husband died she has been struggling to keep the business afloat. An incident like this could really hurt her.”
     “I suppose,” Andrew replied as he pushed the newly-fallen snow around with his feet.
     Mario stared at his BFF; Andrew wasn’t acting normal.
     “Want to stop at the bakery for a cup of hot cocoa? Theirs is super delicious! It’ll be my treat,” Andrew offered, trying to break the icy silence between them.
     Now that’s the old Andrew! Mario smiled. Maybe I was just imagining things.
     They trotted into the toasty bakery. The smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafted through the air.
     “What can I get you?” asked the lady at the counter.
     “Two hot cocoas with extra chocolate and marshmallows, please,” Andrew replied and sat down on one of the stools.
     “Here you go,” the lady announced, setting the drinks in front of them.
     “You were right, these are good!” Mario commented after he’d taken two large sips.
     “That will be $3.65,” the lady said after they had finished.
     Andrew opened his wallet. He pulled out a wad of six $50 bills. He handed the lady one of them and she went to fetch his change.
     “Where’d you get all that money?” Mario asked suspiciously.
     “Oh, my uncle sent it as an early birthday present,” Andrew answered casually.
     Mario’s mind raced back to earlier when Andrew had said, “What would I want with $300?” How did he know that exactly $300 was missing from the cash register? Mrs. Hershon never specified what amount had been taken!
     The second that they walked out the door, Mario asked, “Did you steal Mrs. Hershon’s money?”
     “What!” Andrew exclaimed.
     “I want the truth: did you steal it or not?”
     “Alright! So I took it. Big deal,” Andrew mumbled. He was obviously not ashamed of what he had done.
     “Andrew! It’s wrong to steal! It says so in the Bible! And not only that, but you lied about it too!” Mario chided.
     “You’re not going to squeal on me, are you?” was Andrew’s concern.
     Mario bit his lip. We’ve been best friends for so long. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, and Andrew has never done anything like this before. But what he did was wrong. I don’t know what to do.
     He made up his mind. “Andrew, you committed a crime. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to confess to your parents and Mrs. Hershon that you took the money. If not, I will tell them.”
     “Some friend you are!” Andrew retorted and stomped off.
     Mario prayed on the way home. Dear wonderful Heavenly Father, I don’t think my friend Andrew is a Christian. He’s never said he was or wasn’t a Christian—I just assumed that he was. But I know that he cannot save himself. Only you can do that. Help me to do what is right. And help me to minister to Andrew. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
     The next morning Mario trudged into Mrs. Hershon’s grocery store. Inside stood Andrew with an unhappy expression on his face. His parents were talking with Mrs. Hershon.
     “I’m sorry for this,” Mario heard Andrew’s father say. “I’m afraid the boy next door has been a bad influence on Andrew. Good day.” Andrew and his parents left.
     Next time I see Andrew, thought Mario, I’ll be sure to have a discussion with him about the Bible.

THE END

Southwest Roll-ups

2012-01-28T11:51:00.000-06:00

Ingredients:
1 can refried beans
3/4 cup to 1 1/2 cups of salsa (depending upon your desired degree of moistness)
1-2 cups of shredded chicken
1 cup cheese
8-10 tortillas

For the sauce:
2 cups heavy whipping cream
2 cups shredded cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese

Directions:
Mix together the beans, salsa, chicken, and cup of cheese. Spread a couple tablespoons' worth of the mixture onto a tortilla. Roll up and fold ends under (so that they won't become too crusty). Place in 9x13" pan and then pour on the whipping cream. Cook at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Sprinkle on the cheese and return it to the oven for another 10 minutes. Yields approximately 6 servings.

Laugh Out Loud

2012-01-27T12:30:00.000-06:00

Q: "Were you long at the hospital?"

A: "No, I was the same size I am now."

Q: Why was everyone so tired on April 1st?

A: They had just finished a March of 31 days.

Q: Which hand is it better to write with?

A: Neither; it's best to write with a pen!

Q: Why can't your nose be 12 inches long?

A: Because then it would be a foot!

Q: What is it that even the most careful person (i.e. Brianna) overlooks?

A: Her nose!

Q: Why do you go to bed every night?

A: Because the bed won't come to you!

Q: How do you cure a headache?

A: Put your head through a window and the pane will just disappear.

Q: Why did the man run around his bed?

A: To catch up on his sleep!

Diner: "Waiter, this coffee tastes like mud."
Waiter: "It was just ground this morning."

Lady: "Please give me a pound of bacon and make it lean."
Grocery clerk: "Left or right?"

Q: What is in every minute and twice in every moment, but never in a thousand years?

A: The letter "m."

Q: Why do bicycles fall over?

A: Because they are two-tired.

Q: What did Cinderella say when her photos didn't show up?

A: "Someday my prints (prince) will come."

Q: What did one elevator say to the other elevator?

A: "I think I'm coming down with something."

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?"

"Nobel."

"Nobel who?"

"No bell—that's why I knocked."

Taco Spaghetti

2012-01-27T12:28:00.003-06:00

1 pound of ground beef

5 oz. spaghetti noodles, broken into smaller pieces

Onion powder to taste

3/4 cup water

2 tbs. taco seasoning

11 oz. can of corn, drained

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

3/4 cup salsa

1 cup crushed taco chips

Cook pasta, rinse, and drain. In a large pan, brown your ground beef and sprinkle in onion powder. Then add the taco seasoning and water. Bring to boil, then reduce the heat and let simmer for a few minutes. Be sure to stir it so that it won't stick to the pan. Next add the pasta, corn, salsa, cheese, and taco chips. Mix together and pour it into a greased two-quart casserole dish. Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Top with cheese. Makes approximately 5 servings.

HTML

2012-01-21T17:23:00.001-06:00

Well, I am now two and a half weeks into my HMTL/CSS class, and so far it has been pretty interesting. Sometimes less than others, but oh well.
Our assignment for this week, or part of it, was to make and construct Philippians 4 into an HTML document. We have (Charles and I worked together on it) so far constructed this page—well, what you'll have to do is copy and paste the following into a text document (notepad will work just fine) and then save it as an .html file. Then, find it in your documents and double click to open it. It should open in your default web browser.

<!DOCTYPE html>
   <html>
       <head xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" >
       <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" />
       <title>Philippians 4</title>
       <style type="text/css">
       body
       h1 {text-align:center;}
       p.date {text-align:right;}
       p.main {text-align:justify;}
       h1   {text-decoration:underline;}
       </style>
       </head>
       <body style=background-color:#8B8989>
       <h1 style=background-color:808080>Philippians 4 </h1>
       <hr />
           <ol>
               <li><strong>Therefore, </strong>, my beloved brethren whom I long to see, my joy and crown, in this way stand firm in the Lord, my beloved.</li>
               <h5> <em> Encouredgment for Euodia and Syntyche</em></h5>
               <li> I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to live in harmony in the Lord. </li>
               <li> Indeed, true companion, I ask you also to help these women who have shared my struggle in the cause of the gospel, together with Clement also and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life. </li>
               <h5><em>Instruction to the congregation</em></h5>
               <li> Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! </li>
               <li> Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. </li>
               <li> Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. </li>
               <li> And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. </li>
               <li> Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. </li>
               <li> The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. </li>
               <h5><em>The Philippian's gift, God's sufficiency</em></h5>
               <li> But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned before, but you lacked opportunity.
               <li>Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.</li>
               <li>I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.</li>
               <li> I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. </li>
               <li> Nevertheless, you have done well to share with me in my affliction. </li>
               <li> You yourselves also know, Philippians, that at the first preaching of the gospel, after I left Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving but you alone; </li>
               <li> for even in Thessalonica you sent a gift more than once for my needs. </li>
               <li> Not that I seek the gift itself, but I seek for the profit which increases to your account. </li>
               <li> But I have received everything in full and have an abundance; I am amply supplied, having received from Epaphroditus what you have sent, a fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well-pleasing to God.</li>
               <li> And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. </li>
               <li> Now to our God and Father be the glory forever and ever. Amen. </li>
               <li> Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The brethren who are with me greet you.</li>
               <h5><em>Farewell</em></h5>
               <li> All the saints greet you, especially those of Caesar?s household. </li>
               <li> The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.</li>
           </ol>
       <hr />
       <p>One of the things that we want to ask ourselves as we look at this chapter is the question that one should ask himself whenever he sees the word that appears first in this section. That word is "therefore." So, as I have heard my dad say, we want to ask ourselves: "What is the therefore there for?" In order to answer this question, we must look at the previous section and see what the author, in this case, Paul, has been talking about.
       Let's start in Philippians chapter five, verse seventeen. Paul is talking to the "brethren" of Phillipi
       </body>
   </html>

I am not sure that I am done with it yet. Any suggestions?

Another Story

2012-01-21T15:23:00.006-06:00

This story is one that will be delivered one chapter at a time and it is intended to last for a while. I hope to be publishing at least one or two chapters, or sections, a week, but we will see how the Lord works that out.
Well, here goes!

The Family

(A Big One)

Eight-year-old Jamie plopped the dish onto the stove with a bang.

     “Careful in there!” her mother warned from the dining room. “I don’t want my dishes broken!”
     “Yes mom,” Jamie answered as she turned to rummage through the cupboard. "Where is that bowl? Where did it go?” she mumbled. She turned as she heard the familiar steps of her twin brother behind her.
     “Jason, do you know where mom’s little silver bowl went? I want to put the leftover soup in it.”
     “Oh, it’s dirty,” Jason answered and skipped out of the room.
     “Why does everything HAVE to be dirty?” Jamie grumbled. Guess I’ll just do something else, she thought happily and skipped out after her twin. Wham! She and her younger brother collided as they both tried to round the corner at the same time.
     “Watch where you’re going!” Jamie instantly shouted, then was overcome with remorse as the four-year-old began to cry and left to search for his mommy.
     “I’m sorry, Amos. I didn’t see you there,” Jamie told the retreating figure.
     “Jamie, move! You're in the walkway.”
     Jamie turned to her little sister Andrea. “You don’t have to be so rude,” Jamie retorted. “You could have said excuse me.”
     Andrea never answered, but walked right by. Nobody listens to me, Jamie thought forlornly.
     Just then, Jamie heard the front door creak open and a familiar voice say, "Hello, honey. How was your day?”
     “Daddy!” Jamie squealed and joined the pack of children stampeding towards the door.
     “Hello, hello!” was her father's answer to the huge group hug.
     Jamie suddenly slipped away into the kitchen. Several minutes later she returned bearing a bowl of soup balanced carefully next to some crackers arrayed on a platter.
     “Here!” she beamed, “is your dinner, Dad!”
     “My, my, that was quick,” Dad exclaimed. “Let me wash my hands first, at least.” Dad broke himself away from the crowd of children and headed for the hallway.
     “All right, guys, I know that you’re excited to see your dad, but the kitchen work needs to be done,” Mom gently commanded.
     “Oooohhhhhh! Do I have to?” Jamie's twelve-year-old brother spoke up for the first time.
     “Come on, Matthew; let’s not end the day with complaining.” Mom turned as dad reentered the room.
     “Go on now,” Dad commanded, and the older three turned slowly to the kitchen door while the younger ones went off to clamber around the parents while they ate.
     A few minutes later, Jamie popped her head into the dining room.
     “Done yet?” she chirped.
     “Just about,” Dad answered before turning back to Mom. "I will need to go study after dinner. I need to finish that book. I have about 200 pages left and I think that I could get it done in an hour and a half or so. I won’t have time to do it in the morning; that’s when I will need to finish that cabinet.”
     “When is the reading due?” Mom asked.
     “Tomorrow.”
     There was silence for a moment. Dad handed the bowl to Jamie, who was still standing there. “I’m done now. Thank you!” He smiled.
     Jamie scampered to the kitchen and sidled up next to her twin, who was wearily drying the dishes and putting them away. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “Dad has to study again tonight.”
     “So. Nothing new,” Jason answered grumpily. “Sometimes I get up early and find Dad making coffee before he goes to study some more. Sometimes even at four or five o’clock.”
     “Does he study all night?” Jamie's eyes grew wide.
     “Course not,” Jason snorted. “He just gets up early.”
     “I wish I could get up that early,” Jamie mumbled reverently as she went away. “Then I would make the coffee for Dad!”

***

“Good night, Dad.” Jason leaned closer to where his exhausted father had collapsed onto the couch and was dozing.

     “Dad, Dad.”
     Dad managed to pry his eyes open a slit. “What? Oh, goodnight, Jason.”
     Jamie tiptoed into the dim living room. “Good, you’re awake. Goodnight.” She walked up and hugged her father. “See you in the morning.”
     “Oh, wow, it’s eleven o'clock already. You guys should be in bed by now!”
     “We were. We couldn’t get to sleep so we kept on checking to see whenever you would wake up so that we could tell you goodnight,” Jason explained quickly.
     That’s probably why you couldn’t sleep, Dad thought. “Where is your Mother?” Dad stood up and looked around.
     “In your room putting baby Trevor to sleep. He was pretty fussy tonight because Matthew fed him ice cream during lunch. He—” Jamie would have gabbed about the whole story, but Dad cut her short.
     “I don’t need to hear the whole thing, but you guys do need to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
     The twins scampered down the hall to the room they shared amongst all the siblings and literally jumped into bed. Jamie heard Dad talk quietly to Mom for a second. A few minutes later she heard the study door click shut. There was silence for a time.
     “Matthew?” Jamie whispered loudly.
     No answer.
     “Jason?”
     No answer.
     “Guess they're asleep.” Jamie rolled over and faced the wall. Soon she joined them in the Land of Nod.

Poem-3

2012-01-21T14:33:00.002-06:00

Set Your Heart

Set your heart on things above.

Things of joy, things of love

Not on things of earth below,

Where moth and rust destroy.

But store up jewels in priceless heaven,

And so God's love enjoy.

The Favorite Word

2012-01-21T14:32:00.002-06:00

I think Matteo's and Charis's favorite word is mitt because they said mitt almost the whole time we were going somewhere. And then...I think that's the end. I didn't want to post that... Ema...uuuuuhhhh. Ema, you can't say that!
Let's see, what do I want to post now????
Almost every day I play Polly with Charis and sometimes Matteo and Ema. We got a new tub for them. I like driving my girls to the store.
On Friday night we sleep in the living room. Even last night we did because it was Friday. Almost every Friday night we get glow sticks, too.
I can't wait until three more days because then it is Matteo's birthday. On April 12th is my birthday. Even I like picking out balloons; I will pick out the best I can think of.
The other day was Charis's birthday. She liked her balloons and her cake even better. She got a baby with a sippy cup. I think the baby's favorite thing is an owl because she has some all around her. On Charis's cake were gummy butterflies and M&Ms. Of course you knew she would get Oreo mint and Reese's ice cream with Mocha Mudslide to go with her chocolate cake.
Talk to you later!

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 6

2012-01-19T12:49:00.001-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Time is short. Only two more Sundays, and all will be quiet again. I don’t want to think about it. I wish I could capsule all of our escapades and be able to open and reexperience them whenever I’m feeling lonely. Their smiles, the sound of their laughter, and their zest for life are what I will miss most.

~*~

At 10:30 a.m., the routine began afresh. Joshua was the first to enter. He bore a pot of tortilla soup (our lunch), which, upon arriving at the door, he transferred to me. I set it on the stove while he returned to the van to get another load of food. Then Charles admitted himself. I was surprised that he wasn’t wearing even a stitch of yellow. He immediately handed Wyatt to me. Miriam was the next person to step inside our front hall. She showed off her new floral Bible case and entertained Wyatt by making faces at him. The rest of the gang filed in all at once. Matteo nearly slipped on a puddle of melted snow.

We all shuffled into the living room for our Bible study session. Oddly enough, our group was arranged in two semicircles, with the ladies occupying one half of the room and the men and boys seated opposite them. You could call it unintentional gender-segregation.

Wyatt was my lap-warmer and snuggle buddy. I held my Bible in front of him as I followed along with the reading. He kept grasping at the cover and shoving the pages to the left or right. He appeared to be staring intently at the text, as if he understood and was concerned about it. How appropriate for a pastor’s son.

Lunch was ready promptly. Charles insisted that we must rate his mom’s soup, on a scale of 1 to 10. He was convinced that it deserved a 10. I deemed it probably an 8 or 9 (but, as I explained to him, I rarely rate anything a 10); Mariah judged it at a 7 or 8. He chided me for neglecting to take taco chips and Mariah for disliking sour cream.

I spilled the beans that Charles started his own blog. I enjoyed witnessing the bewildered expression on his and the others’ faces when I unexpectedly asked him about it.

Back in late November, we discovered a praying mantis nest attached to our Christmas tree and I gave it to Daniel, thinking he would consider it an interesting specimen. Well, he stowed it on a shelf in his bedroom and forgot about it. We recently received an e-mail from his family stating that something we had done several weeks previous was now “bugging” them, but they refused to specify what. My mom, dad, Mariah, and I assumed the message was a prank and that they were attempting to ensnare us into begging for further details. It turns out that Daniel’s praying mantis nest warmed up and hatched one morning, expelling dozens of the insects. The tiny critters expired within 24 hours though, because they were famished.

Charles is guilty of infesting our house with cockroaches. As the saying goes, where there’s one (I’m referring to the rubber toy he bestowed me with on Christmas), there’s bound to be more! He’ll be footing the extermination bill.

Joshua aspires to go elk hunting with his uncle this fall—before he’s promoted to a pricey adult hunting license.

Our afternoon was fully booked. We had a game plan: round two of Homeschoolopoly. Mariah and Ema stole away to claim their spots on the couch and to guard the board from small hands that might meddle with the playing pieces. I swiped our dining table clean of messes and then I too headed for the basement. Charis requested that I carry her, so I delivered her to the bottom. We had to wait on Charles and Joshua. They lingered upstairs. It was almost reminiscent of the good old days when we’d be plotting an activity in the Sunday school room and the older boys would be dilatory about participating. Daniel volunteered to summon them, dragging them down by the ears if necessary. Charles put in an appearance a few minutes later. He commanded Samuel to relinquish the recliner at the end of the sectional, which had formerly been his, and move onto the floor. Samuel sweetly retorted that Charles shouldn’t compel a poor man to sit low (he was alluding to James 2:1-4). But he did eventually comply. Miriam and Matteo squabbled over who would be privileged to occupy the space beside me. Miriam was my accountant—she organized my money as the cash from my holdings flowed in. Daniel concentrated on snitching money out from underneath Charles’s nose, testing to see if he’d notice. I was so amused that I decided to get in on the fun. During an intermission, I hid one of Charles’s $500 bills inside the armrest of his chair. He didn’t realize it was missing until Matteo ratted me out. He tried to fine me for the offense, but none of us had agreed to such a punishment, so his suggestion was vetoed. One by one, my business associates went bankrupt. Samuel was the first to go bust. We bid him farewell with a round of applause, whistles, and cheers. Joshua remained afloat for a smidgeon longer before an insurmountable debt sunk him. Mariah and Ema squeaked through to third place. Finally, Charles and I were the sole players left standing. I had acquired two more monopolies and six keys of knowledge since last tally. Charles was still relying on his curricula duo (the most expensive on the block) for an income. But he mumbled that he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The kids were all abuzz about the situation—they stampeded up and down the stairs constantly, checking the status so that they could report back to headquarters. Even our dads were curious and paid us a visit. I broke the bank. Every single $500 and $100 bill was in my possession. I hardly ever—practically never—win at monopoly, so I was as shocked as anybody. Charles was a graceful loser, though he did inform me that he wouldn’t bother to rescue my Mii character if it showed up in the dino stage of trigger twist on the Wii. He’d just let me be eaten.

At last I was provided with an opportunity to avenge myself of the prank that Ema pulled on me three months ago (though it seems as if it were yesterday). She scared me with a cornstalk. Yes, that’s right, a cornstalk. I’ll spare you the details. Anyway, as Pastor was herding his family out the door, Charis announced that she needed to use the restroom. Ema was assigned the task of attending to her. Everyone else had already boarded the van and was buckling themselves in for the journey home. The moment we heard the bathroom door latch, we switched off all the lights on the main floor of our house. When Ema emerged acting somewhat confused, I snuck up behind her, grabbed her shoulders, and yelled. She didn’t jump or utter a peep, but her cheeks shone crimson in the beam of headlights streaming through our glass storm door.

Story of the Week: Alone in the Woods, Part 2

2012-01-18T09:33:00.001-06:00

I hurriedly leaped off the road and precariously rolled down the hill.

"Ouch!" I yelled as my foot rammed into our truck, causing me to come to a halt. I tried to stand up. A shot of pain went through my right foot. Oh great, it's broken. I sat down on a patch of grass, hoping it would ease my pain. Brr, I thought, pulling my jacket tighter. It's getting colder. Slowly, darkness enveloped the forest. I looked upward, expecting to see stars. Clouds must be covering them, I assumed as I stared at the starless sky above me. All of a sudden, the wind picked up. I trudged to the vehicle to stay dry from the oncoming storm. Not long after I had gotten in, it started pouring outside. The truck wasn't much coverage; I was soaked within fifteen minutes.

Boom! Screamed the sky as lighting sliced through the dense forest. I felt like crying. I was alone, tired, hungry, cold, wet, and the pain in my foot had no intention of leaving.

Snap! Lighting struck a nearby tree in half. My thoughts immediately turned to Brietta and dad. They are out there. They could be hurt, or a tree could have fallen down and...and... I couldn't even bear to think of it.

"Dear Lord," I prayed, bending my head low, "please protect Brietta and dad from this storm. Please keep them safe. I know that no matter what happens, it is Your divine plan. In Jesus name, amen."

The thunderstorm was still pouring buckets of rain on me, and my foot still hurt, but somehow I didn't feel sorry for myself anymore. I curled up into a tight ball and I was so exhausted that, within minutes, I quickly fell asleep.

***

How long have I been asleep? I wondered as I woke from my slumber. I noticed that the rain was now just a sprinkle. I poked my head out the window. It was still dark, but it was light enough for me to see some of my surroundings. A howl of wolves in the distance interrupted the silence. Fear raced through my body. Those wolves have to be at least ten miles away, I reassured myself, trying to quench my fear. The sound of movement in the woods made my hair stand on edge. Is it wolves? A bear? A hundred dangers went through my mind. My hands searched for some sort of weapon, but found none. I closed my eyes and thought of Psalm 23, the Lord is my Shepherd. And all my fear vanished. Filled with new courage, I opened my eyes, expecting to see a pack of wolves, but instead a wonderful sight adorned my eyes. Dad had recently emerged from the forest with Brietta in his arms and a man walking behind him, whom I'd never seen before. I limped toward dad as fast as I could.

"This man is going to take us home!" Dad told me as I wrapped my arms around him.
Home, I thought, There's no place in the world I'd rather be right now.

I hope to crack you up!

2012-01-17T15:29:00.001-06:00

Q: Why don't you starve in a desert?

A: Because of all the 'sand-which-is' there.

Q: Why did the lady like to eat chocolate?

A: Because she was a coco-nut!

Q: What kind of keys do kids like to carry?

A: Cookies!

Q: What cheese is made backwards?

A: Edam.

Q: What's the best thing to put into a pie?

A: Your teeth!

Q: "Waiter, this food tastes funny."

A: "Then why aren't you laughing?"

Q: Did you hear the joke about the peanut butter?

A: I'm not telling you. You might spread it!

Q: Why do the French eat snails?

A: Because they don't like fast food!

Q: "Waiter, will my pizza be long?"

A: "No sir, it will be round."

Q: Why didn't the chicken cross the road?

A: Because there was a KFC on the other side!

Q: What is 'out of bounds'?

A: An exhausted kangaroo.

Q: A detective could see a blue house made out of blue bricks and a red house made out of red bricks. Why couldn't he see a green house?

A: Because it was made of glass!

Q: Why did the boy do his schoolwork in an airplane?

A: Because he wanted to be in high school!

Q: Why are politicians in such good shape?

A: Because they're always running for office!

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 5

2012-01-12T17:24:00.001-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Since Christmas we’ve seen an increase in the monkey (hat) population. A big white van pulled into our driveway at 10:30 a.m. sharp, and three hopped out. The fourth, a wee male, was transported indoors by his mommy. He was passed to me while shoes and coats were being removed, and, astonishingly, he was contented to remain clasped in my arms for a record of twenty minutes before he started fussing. I’ll win Wyatt over yet!

Charis assisted Pastor in locating scripture references. Twice she tapped a page and quietly exclaimed, “Right there!”

Charles somehow got the impression that we had a new ATV and kept inquiring about it. I don’t know what planet he was on, because we only own two ATVs.
Over lunch he confided that his ambition in life is to splice Barney the dinosaur into Jurassic Park footage and have Barney be killed.
When he pronounces my name, he is in the habit of dropping the ee sound at the beginning (represented by the “I”), distorting it into “Branna.” I’ve come to tolerate the lovingly-coined nickname “Banana,” but I draw the line at being equated with bran cereal. Yech!
In the context of a conversation on my retentiveness, he quipped that elephants never forget anything. Naturally I took offense.

Daniel, upon mention of the famous couple Romeo and Juliet, informed us that they appear in the book Huckleberry Fin.
He annoyed Charles by continually quoting Calvin & Hobbs comics that Charles had previously read.
Apparently the term “snail-mail” was unfamiliar to him, because, when I used it to describe the primary mode of communication betwixt my pen pal Emma and me, he asked if we dispatched our letters via carrier snails (as opposed to pigeons) and left slime trails. Interestingly, this led to a dialogue about spam mail and the concept of sending strangers anonymous missives containing slices of meat.

Samuel observed that a different ceiling fan was running, which picture frames had been moved, and how the living room furniture had been rearranged. Way to go, Samuel!
He found a lone foam dart (a remnant of the Christmas battle) in our basement and threw it at me. I of course retaliated by returning it in like fashion. After a few tosses, however, Charles griped that we were at risk of overturning the board game in progress, and then Mariah snatched the missile out of my hand.

Despite the constant interruptions, the two toddlers wrastling in my lap, and the din of voices intent on causing me to lose count (of which Charles was the principal agitator), I succeeded in setting up and explaining the rules of Homeschoolopoly. The game lasted approximately five hours, from afternoon till evening, and is to be continued. I happen to be in the lead.
Here are the grand totals:
Me (and my part-time teammate, Miriam)
Assets: one monopoly, three keys of knowledge, three vehicles
Cash balance: $2437
Charles
Assets: one monopoly, four stacks of books, one vehicle, two get-out-of-court-free cards
Cash balance: $1631
Joshua
Assets: two monopolies, seven stacks of books
Cash balance: $681
Mariah and Ema
Assets: two monopolies, four stacks of books
Cash balance: $566
Daniel
Assets: one monopoly, two keys of knowledge
Cash balance: $1472
Samuel
Assets: both utilities, two curricula
Cash balance: $348
(He is the closest to bankruptcy because he expended most of his funds in helping his fellow entrepreneurs out of jams.)

Towards the conclusion of our time together, I excused myself for a few minutes to get a drink of water and visit the restroom. When I rejoined the game, I was greeted with eerie silence. I glanced from face to face, wondering what was afoot. Then, slowly, everyone’s mouths began stretching into wide yawns, and Daniel commenced a tale about a person unable to quit yawning. The torture!!! It was a conspiracy devised by my sister Mariah, who is aware of my weakness. I am extremely susceptible to yawning. I cannot hear the word, read the word, write the word, or witness the muscular reflex without succumbing to it. (Yes, I’m yawning right now.) It is purely a psychological phenomenon.

Goodbyes were said reluctantly. Charis sang “London Bridge is Falling Down” as her father buttoned up her coat, and she incorporated our last name into the final stanza. Charles was instructed to start the van, so he was the first to exit, but he came back to fetch Wyatt. In all the hustle, he neglected to don his own coat (probably because his yellow hoodie provided sufficient protection from the cold). His mom predicted that he would eventually remember it was still hanging on our rack and would return to get it. During the delay, I deposited a handful of ice cubes in Charles’s coat pocket.

Story of the Week: Alone in the Woods, Part 1

2012-01-11T16:59:00.000-06:00

Crash! My stomach lurched as our truck rolled down the hill. I could hear the windows breaking and my three-year-old sister wailing.

"Are you kids OK?" my dad anxiously inquired from the front seat.

"I am, but I don't know about Brietta." She was curled up in a ball crying.

"Stay where you are. I'm going to see if I can get you two out without either of you stepping on that glass."
I looked at the floor. There were bits of glass stuck to the rugs and piles of glass on the left side, which was the way that the truck had landed. Dad managed to get us out safely.

Now, how are we going to get home? We are in the middle of nowhere! I thought as I scanned the territory for some sign of life. All I could see for miles were trees, trees, and more trees. I noticed that Dad was dialing on his cell phone.

"Hello?" Dad hung up. "No signal," he informed me. I sighed. Mom wouldn't know to come look for us since she didn't expect us back from grandma's till tomorrow. Could this get any worse? But I knew the Lord put us in this situation for a reason and that He would take care of us. That thought gave me comfort.

"I'm hungry," complained Brietta, tugging on my sleeve. I turned to dad. "I think there are some leftovers from lunch in the truck. I'll see if I can get them." I walked over to the truck.

"Be careful," my dad warned. "I'm going to the other side of the hill to see if I can get better reception. Holler if you need me."

I opened the truck's door. Most of the glass dad had brushed to the side. I could get the food easily without hurting myself. Still, it would be hazardous for Brietta to come with me.

"Brietta, stay there, I'll be right back," I commanded her before I stepped into the vehicle. I looked through all the compartments.

"Aha! I found it!" I pulled the plastic bag of food out. "Want some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Brietta?" I hopped out, expecting an enthusiastic response. No reply. I looked around me; Brietta was nowhere in sight.

"Dad!" I yelled.

"What is it?" He ran over to me.

"It's Brietta. I went into the truck for a minute and now—and now she's GONE!"
For the next few minutes hollers of "Brietta!" pierced the silent air.

"She must be too deep in the woods to hear us," Dad concluded. "I'm going into the forest to look for her. Stay here in case she comes back." He grabbed a few things from the truck and rushed off into the forest. I went through a routine of praying, checking the cell phone, praying, and checking the cell phone for the next few hours. I looked up into the sky to see that the sun was setting. I knew within a half an hour it would be dark. Weren't they ever coming back?

A few minutes later, I heard a noise. I saw a light coming down the road.

"Help!" I cried at the top of my lungs as I planted my feet at the edge of the narrow, one-lane road. The car was rapidly approaching; by the time it was a few feet in front of me I realized that it wasn't going to stop.

...To be continued.

Monday Funnies

2012-01-09T18:26:00.003-06:00

Q: What is the difference between a cat and a comma?
A: A cat has claws at the end of its paws. A comma is the pause at the end of a clause.

Q: What is the easiest way to swallow a door?
A: Bolt it.

Q: Why is "A" like twelve o'clock?
A: Because it is the middle of "day."

Q: What is that which you cannot hold ten minutes, although it is as light as a feather?
A: Your breath.

Q: When is a sailor not a sailor?
A: When he is a-board.

Q: Why is a city in Ireland likely to be the largest city in the world?

A: Because each year it is Dublin (doubling).

Q: Why is shoemaking the easiest of trades?

A: Because the shoes are always soled before they are made.

Q: Why is sympathy like blind man's bluff?

A: Because it is a fellow feeling for a fellow creature.

Q: When is an artist a dangerous person?
A: When his designs are bad.

Q: What is that which everybody has seen but will never see again?
A: Yesterday.

Brianna's Favorite Story :p

2012-01-08T20:50:00.001-06:00

There once was a girl that no matter what she did, she could not stop yawning. She held her breath for minutes, drank glassfuls of water, and was scared half to death by her sisters, but she still could not stop yawning. So she yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and yawned...are you yawning yet?

Did You Know?

2012-01-07T15:14:00.001-06:00

...Hawaii's state fish is humuhumunukunukuapua'a. I hope I spelled that right!

...Nebraska has a huge porch swing. It can hold up to 24 children!

...An elephant's heart weighs about 50 pounds. That's half the weight of our dog!

...The world's tallest snowman was 133 feet! I wonder how long it took them to build it?

...The song "Jingle bells" was originally written for Thanksgiving. What do the lyrics to "Jingle Bells" have to do with Thanksgiving?

...90+ years ago, pink was a color for boys.

...The world isn't exactly a circle. Its rotation causes it to bulge some at the equator.

...If you lived in Scandinavia and your father's name was Ben, your last name would be either Bensdottir (Ben's daughter) or Bensson (Ben's son). And when a lady marries, her last name doesn't change.

...A peanut isn't a nut; it's a legume.

...I don't like mint.

...South Africans use different terms when they speak English, such as: china (good friend), globe (light bulb), howzit (hello), robot (traffic light), and slip-slops (flip-flops).

...The world's largest frog lives in Cameroon and Equatorial Guinea. It can grow to be 13 inches long!

...Oregon has the smallest park; it's only 2 feet!

...Every Christmas a post office in Santa Claus, Indiana gets thousands of letters addressed to Santa.

Out With the Old and In With the New

2012-01-04T11:31:00.001-06:00

A year ago I purposed to readorn my bedroom with a streamlined color palette. The idea struck me as we were out shopping one day. A bouquet of pale purple flowers on a table at Pier 1 caught my eye, and I thought, somewhat noncommittally, “How splendidly those would contrast with the backdrop of my aquamarine walls.”

Light bulb!

I suspect that dissatisfaction with my room’s décor, which was a mishmash of patterns, wood tones, and vibrant hues, had long been brewing. Once upon a time, I was attracted to bright, bold colors, but it is possible to become overwhelmed by too much of a good thing. I hadn’t drastically changed my bedchamber in a decade (besides rolling a fresh coat of paint on the walls and replacing bedding), and latterly I’d spent excessive hours locked in there, writing. So I revolted. I’d already begun to fall madly in love with lavender (the color, not the flower). I decided that my room needed a touch of feminine elegance.

However, my resolution proved tricky to accomplish.

It took me:

Eight months of sifting through stores and websites to procure a solid quilt in the particular shade I fancied.

Two more months to find coordinating curtains (and the panels I ended up ordering from Jcpenney aren’t a *perfect* match).

Three months to amass the funds necessary to purchase supplies (my dad paid me to polish abstract pieces of metal).

And ten days to put it all together.

Am I ever relieved to be finished!
Now, without further ado...

Before:

My pen pal Emma made me the ribbon board for
my 19th birthday. I was sorry to remove it.

After:

Sketches are courtesy of my talented BFF, Rachel. The large
one is a likeness of Truffles, the Chesapeake Bay Retriever we
had as a pet before Zookie. The portrait is me at age 15.

In 2009, I designed a collage that features my favorite quotes pertaining to the writing profession. I updated and adjusted it when I refurbished my room. (I am not a fan/advocate of Randy Alcorn. I extracted a few of these quotes from the book, A Novel Idea, which several allegedly Christian authors contributed to, and the rest are from random sources. I realize that the two quotes in the bottom-left box probably don’t seem pertinent, but they apply to me personally and how I view the writing process.)

I collect these.

A display of the special people in my life.
Recognize anyone?

My Turn :-) "The Events of 2011" by Charles

2012-01-03T20:46:00.002-06:00

    Well, I differ a little from Brianna. I have no attachments to 2011; I am actually excited about 2012, because, for one thing, the world is going to end this year. Of course it was supposed to end in April of 2011, but this time it is from a reputable source that the world will end this year—the ancient Mayans. Well, anyways, I am excited about this year. I hope it will be a happy year and I am looking forward to the next year. I hope it is the year that my family can find their permanent, earthly home. Lord willing, this year will be the year that I will get my CompTIA A+ and Network + certification, my driver's license, and the year that I grow an inch taller, a few pounds stronger, and acquire better grammar, allowing subject-verb agreement, less prepositions in one sentence, avoid sentence fragments, avoid using a preposition to end a sentence with, and inventing your own clichés, and etc. Yep, this year will. 2011 has been an interesting year. It began and ended during the worst time of the year...winter. Maybe I should move to the southern hemisphere to avoid New Years being in the winter.
    What happened this year? Well, I am thinking back at what has happened and my memory of the beginning is a little foggy. Maybe that is because nothing really happened, with the exception of the routine. It was a happy point of time when the 60s were considered cold temperatures. Then my brother and I would go around hoping that someone would be too lazy to mow their lawn and ask us to do it. We only had a few customers this year. It was an unsuccessful year for us when it came to mowing. Then the heatwave hit. Nothing grew for as long as it was hot and it ruined the last half or so of the summer. Although, there was something new that I was able to do. There was a technically-inclined family that offered computer lessons, and I took them and was greatly benefited by the first class I took, though it was amazingly easy (at the time it wasn’t though). Then I decided to take a more in-depth course that also provided you to become certified by a relevant source of your technical knowledge. Of course you have to take a test first, which is what I am going to do this Thursday and Tuesday :-P Nervous! Well, the in-depth class took up most of my winter for sure. A lot of time has been dedicated to that class. I am hoping in February that I can take another class that goes deeper into networking, but that is only if the Lord provides, for sure! I hope that with what I learned from these classes and the certification that I hope to attain, that I will be able to find a good job or start my own business.
    This year is also the year that my youngest bro was born. He doesn’t do a whole lot yet but eat, sleep, and use up precious diapers. He has definitely grown bigger from when he was born :-( No teeth.
    Well, and my dad was treated like a quarrelsome fool that doesn’t know what he is about this year, and then was kicked out of the church that we have dedicated a lot of dedication, love, work, and interest in, all the while the dedication and care was not mutual. We have no clue where we are going to end up, but thankfully we have found a place to stay temporarily. It is amazing what happens when you are ill-treated like the way that we were. Your eyes are opened to so much. The Scripture then is that much more clearer, you see more Christians, particularly pastors, that are suffering for what is right and the suffering is coming from the very church that they are lovingly shepherding. When you take a definite stand for truth, you WILL be persecuted, and do you want to know where the most amount of persecution is going to come from? Christians! So-called Christians of course. When you shine light where there is none, the religious will hate you more than the unreligious. The reason is because the religious are proud of their self-righteousness. They are comfortable with their level of godliness, though denying its power, and are comfortable with hanging onto sin that they love so dearly. They think that they have attained, but in reality they are in error. The most satanic lie is the one that is the closest to the truth. A person must realize that they are totally unacceptable to God and can do nothing in order for God to accept them.
    Well, that is a summary of this year. Of course to tell you all that happened this year would take a year to do so, so I won’t.

Baked Oatmeal

2012-01-02T18:40:00.002-06:00

3 cups quick oats

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 cup milk

1/2 cup melted butter

2 eggs

1/2 tsp. vanilla

Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Add the eggs and wet ingredients and mix it well. Place in a 10"x 10" greased baking dish. Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes.

Monday Joke

2012-01-02T15:57:00.003-06:00

Today is Monday! First day of the year—no, take that back, it's the second.
A couple of hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn't seem to be breathing; his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps to the operator: "My friend is dead! What can I do?" The operator, in a calm, soothing voice says: "Just take it easy. I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead." There is a silence, then a shot is heard. The guy's voice comes back on the line. He says: "OK, now what?"
Well, I hope that this will assist you in your day.

’11 Highlights

2011-12-31T23:59:00.056-06:00

Here I stand on the brink of plummeting into a new year. If I had a choice, I’d dig in my heels and never exit 2011. But time ebbs on without my consent. I can only remember, and remember I shall. My favorite parts of the past 365 days are recorded below in order of occurrence.

1. The best, lengthiest, and most exacting article I’ve written was published as a three-part series in a national magazine.

2. My finesse for editing was sought after, and I was granted the opportunity to minister to someone as well as attain experience in the field.

3. I dared to teach myself how to maneuver an ATV at higher speeds (third and fourth gear) around our yard and the trails. (Well, I was more apprehensive that four young men, who were novices at 4-wheeling, would beat me, a seasoned rider with the knowledge of when to shift and press the brakes, at races.)

4. I shed (at least) ten pounds.

5. I met my pen pal Emma in person.

6. I hosted a birthday bash, with twelve guests attending, and one of them caused it to end with a BANG!

7. I tried cherry limeade.

8. I held a newborn.

9. This blog was launched, and it’s been hyperactive ever since.

10. I befriended this little gal. Probably one of the sweetest moments of my life happened when we ladies were Christmas shopping together. We were at Jcpenney and Charis, after a nice long nap, decided she wanted released from her stroller so she could stretch her legs. But, as our group began to move on to another section of the store, she froze up. No one was able to coax her to follow, and her mom had gone on ahead. I approached her, murmuring, “Come on, Charis.” She just looked at me. I then crouched down and queried if she wished me to pick her up. At that, her lips curved upward, and she threw her arms around my neck. I could have cried.

11. My bedroom underwent a transformation. (More images, details, and a full-size post are in the very near future.)

3rd Part to the Story

2011-12-31T18:11:00.005-06:00

Here it is:

PART THREE

I rolled over. For a split second I laid there thinking. “Where am I? Oh, that’s right.” I sat up and dressed before slowly leaving the room. I was rather stiff from traveling all the way from Nazareth to here, Jerusalem. I had been very relieved to finally arrive at my friend’s house to stay until the Passover was finished.

I had hardly finished breakfast and cleaning up when there was suddenly a loud uproar in the streets. People were running to and fro, excitedly shouting, “Here He comes!” Down the street a ways it sounded as if the whole crowd of men here for Passover were chanting an unorganized chant at the tops of their lungs. As the crowd neared, one man stopped right before the window before yelling with the crowd, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord; Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

Before I had even caught a glimpse of who had caused all this commotion, I heard one man explain to the neighbor that, “This is the Prophet Jesus, from Nazareth in Galilee.” And I smiled, knowing that He was my Son.

***

Despite the triumphant entry, Jesus caused a lot of concern for me for the next couple days. I heard that He went first to the temple and once again turned over all the tables and drove out all the merchants. I thought it served them right with the way that they would cheat people, even the poorest of folks, but still, it only inflamed the Pharisees and Sadducees hatred for him even more. Then I heard that He had again gotten Himself into another heated discussion with the religious leaders. Then the next day I heard that He had not only refuted all who came to test Him, but had even prophesied against the holy temple. Nobody could truly accuse Him of anything that He did wrong, but it seemed that everyone hated Him.

Then one morning, the very day we were to sacrifice the Passover lamb, I heard the news that planted my feet to the ground and made my heart stand still.

“Jesus,” my hostess’s son gasped out, “has been arrested and is going to appear before Pilate. He has been beaten so much, I hardly recognized Him.”

I hardly heard what he said beyond that. I could hardly think. Suddenly I swept my shawl to my shoulders and left without thinking of why I was leaving. I only knew where I was going; Pilate's mansion. But as soon as I arrived, however, all the crowds were sweeping towards the opposite direction.

“What!” I exclaimed. “Where are they taking Him now?”

“To Herod!” One man answered my cry before hurrying past. “To Herod?” I thought.

***

Two hours later, Jesus was back to Pilate’s palace. Pilate stood before the whole crowd. “You brought this man to me as one who incites the people to rebellion, and behold, having examined Him before you, I have found no guilt in this man regarding the charges which you make against Him. No, nor has Herod, for he sent Him back to us; and behold nothing deserving of death has been done by Him. Therefore, I will punish Him and release Him.”

All during this speech the Pharisees moved slowly around, muttering to different people until they nodded in agreement, and then moving on to another man.

The words had hardly left Pilate's mouth when the Pharisees, followed by a large majority of the crowd, began shouting, “Away with this Man, and release for us Barabbas!” I had heard of this Barabbas, and what I knew of him made me shudder. He was not the kind of man that you wanted walking the streets. Amid all the shouting, I could hardly hear Pilate crying out again to the crowds. With an even more agitated countenance, he screamed out yet again: “Why? What evil has He done? I have found no guilt demanding death; therefore I will punish Him and release Him!”

But, although it seemed impossible, the crowds screamed even louder, "Crucify Him, crucify Him!”

It dizzied me to think that this was the very same crowd that had recently welcomed Jesus into the city, hailing him as King. “Why this sudden change of mind?" I thought. “Why this sudden turning on their ‘King’?”

I saw Pilate throw up his hands in despair. No one could hear his words over the crowd. It was quickly turning into a riot.

Pilate turned to the official at his side. After exchanging a few words, the officer nodded and walked over to Barabbas. He led the prisoner down to the crowd and loosened his bonds, releasing him. The officer then went to Jesus and roughly grabbed Him by the arm. As soon as the crowd realized that their wish had been granted, they were quiet. Several other dedicated women, the disciple John, and myself slowly followed Jesus to Golgotha, weeping. Ringing through my head was Simeon’s prophecy from so long ago, "…and a sword will pierce even your own soul…”

Three Days Later

I was sitting in John's home. That was where I held my residence ever since Jesus had placed the apostle as my caregiver, and that is where I was going to stay, since I was a widow.

I was weaving, or at least I was supposed to be. My work was being interrupted by my thoughts. I shook myself as a tear splashed onto my loom. “No, no,” I thought, “I will not begin crying again.”

Suddenly, John burst into the house. “Mary!” he gasped, “You’ll never believe me, I can hardly believe myself; Jesus has risen from the dead!!!! I saw it myself. He was gone, gone, I tell you, and the wrappings lay to the side of where He laid.”

I slumped in my chair. I did believe it. I knew…I knew that He was not only my Son. I knew that He was going to be my Savior. I knew that He was the Seed that would crush the serpents head.* And most of all, I knew He was the Son of God. He had proven that.

This was really only the beginning, and I regret that I am not able to record all of God’s hand throughout the rest of history, even before these things took place. I pray that this event will be an encouragement to you to “take up your cross daily, and follow (Him),” knowing that the reward will be sweeter in the end.

*Genesis 3:14-15

Please let me know what you think!

The Authors of a Threefold Cord

2011-12-31T11:37:00.001-06:00

Brianna:

She may seem serious in this sketch, but
in real life she cracks up easily. She gets scared
easily too. She is an expert at descriptions
when she writes.

Charles:

This is my best imitation of Charles. He has a tough face. He is the
hardest person to draw, although I haven't the faintest idea why.
He's good with computers and sketching.

Joshua:

He's good at making people laugh, especially Brianna.
He is a well-mannered young man.

Me:

I am kind of an oddball. I'm the only one in the group that
dislikes 4-wheeling and mint. I'm also probably the quietest.

Ema:

She is my best friend! She is a clever girl
who is a good writer.

Daniel:

He likes woodcarving, mechanics, and building things.
He's also the only one with blue eyes, as you can tell.

Samuel:

He is a little gentleman that likes frogs and monster trucks.

Miriam:

She has a bubbly personality and loves anything girly.

Brianna, Charles, Joshua, Ema, Daniel, Samuel, and Miriam are all interesting people. Each of them is very special to me.

Christmas Story

2011-12-30T21:27:00.005-06:00

Here is a story that I wrote for a little thing that we enjoy doing after worship service sometimes. We all write a story, read the beginning one week, the middle the next week, and the ending the third week. I wrote this story for our Christmas series, but as it is neat to think of year round, I thought that I would post it. Here goes!

Mary, Mother of Jesus

I rolled over. Mother was gently shaking me. “Come, Mary, you slept in this morning. We have work to do!” I sat up and stretched.

“I’m coming," I said as Mother left the room. I quickly dressed and slipped into the kitchen where Mother was grinding wheat.

“I did sleep in late!” I exclaimed. “Father is already in the field!”

“Yes. Now eat your bread. I need to go to the market; you’ll have to finish today’s baking for me. I shouldn’t be back until after the noon meal, so I need you to start the roast after the bread is done. Don’t forget to bring water to the field for all the workers often."

Mother had finished grinding the flour and was putting on her shawl as she spoke. “I already milked the goats, so don’t worry about them. Do you have questions?”

“No, Mother.”

“Good-bye dear,” she said and went out. I stood and opened the shutters before gathering my supplies. The morning wind fluttered through the room and danced around the table. I noticed the large pile of laundry in the basket and thought, “What a beautiful day to wash. I will do that when I am done fixing the roast.”

I deftly mixed and kneaded the dough. Soon I formed four loaves and laid them out to rise. I stepped outside and stirred the fire that mother had already kindled. The glowing embers burst into flame as I added a little fuel.

“There," I thought, “that will keep it going until my bread is done rising.”

I turned back into the house. All my work was done in the kitchen for now, so I turned to my sewing while I waited for the bread to finish. I had been doing a lot of sewing lately; dresses and tunics, cloaks and shawls, for I was to be married soon to the son of the deceased carpenter. His son, Joseph, had taken his father's place as carpenter for our villages and the surrounding area, so though we would always be poor, I knew YHWH would care for us. I smiled at the thought. I had begun my sewing as soon as I was betrothed, for I would never know when Joseph would come for me, only that he would. A timely prick in my finger from my needle reminded me of my bread, which had almost risen too much. I put my needle away and took up a loaf of bread. Outside the fire had diminished to burning coals, perfect for cooking my bread. I slid all four loaves onto the top of the coals and fastened the oven door loosely.

Judging from the sun, I knew that it was time to give water to the workers. I grabbed a jug of water and circled father’s field, stopping at every worker to give him a drink. I then hurried back to the house, eager to wash the laundry before the bread was done. I put a pot of water on the furnace to boil, and carried the clothing to the roof. Soon the pot was simmering steadily, so I carried it to the roof, accompanied by my washboard.

I anticipated another average wash time, but I had hardly plunged the first shirt into the water when I was stunned and terrified to see a being white as snow and bright as fire standing before me.

PART TWO

I couldn’t move. I just gazed back at it. Suddenly, it spoke; “Greetings favored one! The Lord is with you.”

“What kind of greeting is that?” I thought, trembling. “I’ve never heard it before!”

And as if in response to my thoughts, the angel said, "Do not be afraid, Mary; for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will bear a Son, and you shall name Him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High God. And the Lord shall give Him the throne of His father David and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever and His kingdom shall have end.”

As I listened to his speech, many thoughts raced through my head. Suddenly, I thought of a loophole.

"How can this be, since I am a virgin?” I inquired.

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the shadow of the Most High will overpower you; and for that reason the Holy Child shall be called the Son of God.”

“But the scorn!” I thought. “I’m not even married yet. Besides, what will Joseph think?! This could almost ruin my life! But…he said the Holy Spirit would overpower me, what could I do to stop Him? Is God not in control? Should I not trust Him to care for me?”

I looked back up at the angel. “Behold the maidservant of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word.”

And as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

***

Well, I hate to leave you in suspense, but as the third and last section is still under construction, I will have to post it as soon as the Lord allows. I may or may not be posting more stories, depending on how well this story is received. See you then!

Did I mention that we are back from KC?

2011-12-30T13:13:00.004-06:00

Well, we are. We spent a mere two days there, from Sunday night to 1:00 PM the next day.

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Special Pictorial Edition, vol. 1 no. 2

2011-12-30T11:34:00.002-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Charles, Joshua, Charis, and our moms were in the kitchen. Charles was powering on the microwave to melt butter for the garlic bread. I heard the clank as he planted the bowl on the revolving glass plate and the beep, beep, beep of the buttons. I wandered in that direction and met my mom as she rounded the island. She had Charis nestled in the crook of her arm. Charis clutched one of the reindeer munchies I’d concocted the day before, which she seemed more interested in admiring than eating.

With one glance I concluded that there wasn’t adequate room for me to join the party, so I padded back towards the living room. Dad and Pastor were having a quiet discussion in the hallway. Mariah and Ema were standing beside the dining table, chatting and commenting how overstuffed with gifts our tree looked (thanks to a certain entourage of guests). I tuned in for a few minutes and contributed to the conversation. Matteo floated between the kitchen crew and the discoursers, toting one of the wooden stools we’d set out for additional seating. Samuel smiled at me from the couch.

I transferred my gaze to the plump pine opposite me, embellished with blue baubles and lights. I wasn’t feeling the joy or the peace of the season—my emotions were on an uneven keel. I’d never paid much attention to or particularly liked the song “A Grown-up Christmas List,” but this year its refrain describes precisely the sort of package I’d wish to have in my possession and be able to bestow upon the world:

No more lives torn apart/And wars would never start/And time would heal our hearts/Everyone would have a friend/And right would always win/And love would never end

I’m beginning to deduce that I’m destined to sustain myself on memories—memories that I replay over and over. Perhaps I should write a book. (Ha, ha, that’s a bad joke.)

Our lunch menu consisted of white lasagna, French bread turned Italian, and salad. Supper was a Mexican dish. Not your typical holiday fare, eh? My mom said it was “spiced to life” or something like that.

During mealtime and playtime, the kids inoculated me with their slip-of-the-tongue lingo:
Slam’s Club = Sam’s Club (they stock boxing gloves)
Mud puddle = pud muddle, or was it puddle mud? I’m thinking of Puddleglum, the pessimistic marshwiggle from the sixth book of C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia.
Glamour course = grammar course
Melz = smelled

The skirt beneath our Christmas tree wasn’t emptied until half past three, and the inventory was a trifle queer: diapers, a bucket of ice, batteries (the toy wasn’t included), a penny, an altoids tin containing dead beetles and rose petals, a marble, straw, a box of cheez-its, and Charles pawned off a rubber cockroach on me. I wasn’t grossed out so much as I was weirded out. He’s promised me a spider next Christmas.

(Excuse the intruding heads, elbows, hands, etc. Everyone wanted to get in on the action.)

Charis was eager to aid whoever was struggling to peel tape.

Where's Samuel?

Still hiding

"I wonder what’s in here?"

Cinderella dressed in yellow, who lost [her]
slipper on the basement stairs, was dreaming
of a white Christmas...

...but [she] only got ice.

Unwrapping in five seconds or less

Daniel received two Nerf guns, one from us and one from his parents, plus ammunition. He, Samuel, Matteo, and Joshua alternated artillery and staged a war in our basement. I had every intention of staying on the sidelines, but when they discovered how well the darts clung to my sweater, I became a target. Samuel pummeled me with bullets as I was attempting to deal cards for a game of Apples to Apples. Then Mariah and Ema collected a handful of stray missiles and ambushed me. Charles was fiddling with the revolver, which Matteo was having difficulty operating, and it (supposedly) misfired, thwacking me on the cheek. By now the bigger gun was jammed again, and Joshua kept asking permission to use plastic dinosaur necks and tails to remove the obstruction, or if he could shove a dollhouse figure down the barrel. Finally, I managed to secure a weapon and defend myself.

Joshua found this wrapping paper
“slightly disturbing.”

“Daddy, may I try it on?”

Charles snarls

Matteo was quick to inspect his John Deere
and assert that the brownish substance on
the wheels couldn’t be real dirt because it
had a paint odor. Charis appropriated the
clean tractor to trample a cookie.

What in the...? The note read: “I admit I do
feel a little guilty. (Did I spell that right?)”
I recognized the cursive handwriting.

Contemplating throwing the gift at the giver

Two Days Late

2011-12-27T16:19:00.000-06:00

Away to the window I leaped like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a landscape covered in sparkly, white veneer.

Gone in Ten Seconds

2011-12-27T16:05:00.002-06:00

Fudge Smudges

Ingredients:
1 cup + 2 Tbs. butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup milk
1 Tbs. vanilla
2 1/4 cups flour
1 cup cocoa powder
3/4 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 package of M&M's or chocolate chips

Directions:
1. Beat butter, sugar, and brown sugar until light and fluffy.
2. Beat in milk and vanilla until blended.
3. Add the flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. Mix until smooth.
4. Stir in the candy pieces.
5. Spoon batter onto nonstick cookie sheet, place in oven, and bake at 350 degrees for 7-9 minutes (depending upon the size of the cookies). Yields approximately 3-4 dozen. Extra dough can be stored in the freezer or rolled into balls and used as topping for ice cream.

Reindeer Munchies

Ingredients:
1 package each of Hershey's Kisses, peanutbutter (not peanut!) M&M's, and mini pretzels

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spread a sheet of parchment paper on a cookie sheet. Arrange the pretzels in rows and perch an unwrapped Hershey's Kiss at the center of each. Set in the oven for no more and no less than 3 minutes. Remove and press a single M&M into each of the melted Kisses. Let harden in the refrigerator for about an hour.

On our way to Kansas City, MO

2011-12-26T14:03:00.012-06:00

We are about to leave to go to Kansas City, MO to pick up a trailer to help us move and we will be back around Wednesday or Friday, but definitely before New Years. :-)

The Eleven Hours of Christmas

2011-12-25T00:00:00.002-06:00

“Only eleven hours till Christmas!” Hilary excitedly exclaimed, looking out

the window as snowflakes waltzed across their lawn.
     “Who’s that walking up our driveway?” she asked her twin brother who was
beside her.
     “Must be Miss Stork. I can’t believe she walked all the way from her
bookstore, but she does say she hates diving,” Frederic informed Hilary as she
got up to open the door for Miss Stork.
     “Salutations, Hilary!” Miss Stork announced emphatically. “I just received
a brand-new shipment of books. I thought you and Frederic would enjoy this one. Merry Christmas!” she said, laughing as she left.
     “What’s in the package?” Frederic inquired, looking curious.
     “As for what’s in the package, find out for yourself.” Hilary tossed the
gift over to him. He ripped it open to reveal a book. The Life of
Banana, by T.L.C.
     “A book about bananas?” questioned Hilary, raising her eyebrow.
     “I guess so, let’s look at the back cover to see what it says.” Frederic
turned the book over.
     “Sundaes, cheez-its, bananas, and more in the exciting life of Banana!” he
read.
     “Must be a book about food,” they presumed. For the next hour they dug into the book to find that they were completely wrong in their presumption.
     Ding-dong rang the doorbell.
     “I’ll get it!” the twins yelled as they raced to the door.
     At the door was Mr. Brown. “This is a box for you both.” He shoved the box
into the house. He then strutted to his yellow motorcycle and hollered “Happy
Holidays!” as he drove off.
     “This sure is heavy,” Frederic said, trying to move the gift.
     Hilary opened it this time.
     “Cool, it’s a computer made by the Jalapeno Computer Company!” exclaimed
Frederic as he dove into the instructions.
     “Those are weird instructions,” commented Hilary. “They’re in cursive
instead of type.”
     For the next few minutes they tried to decipher the computer manual.
     “Time for lunch!” their mom hollered over the song Feliz Navidad.
     “Coming!” they shouted back.

***

     At 4:00 the third person came; it was Mr. Gent.
     “Hello, Frederic and Hilary. I only came to drop off this present for you two. I would stay longer, but I have to get back to my men’s apparel shop.” Smiling, Mr. Gent tipped his hat and left the gift in the twins’ hands.
     “Good day to you both!” he called.
     Hilary and Frederic stared at the box. Once they had opened it, they saw that it contained a top hat.
     “How do I look?” Frederic asked, trying the hat on for size.
     They hastily put the hat away and started working on thank-you cards for all the people who gave them gifts.

Fifty minutes later they were interrupted by another ding-dong from the doorbell.

"Why, hello, Miss Butterfly," Hilary greeted her as she answered the door.

"Um, hi, uh, I thought I'd give this present to you and Frederic even foo it's not Christmas yet."
Hilary smiled. Miss Butterfly always said "even foo" when she meant to say "even though."

Hilary offered her a peppermint.

"No thanks," Miss Butterfly replied with a disgusted look on her face. "Besides, I have to hurry and meet my best friend, Miss Gabby. We're finishing our Christmas shopping."

"So what did Miss Butterfly say?" Frederic asked as Hilary shut the door.

"I think she said that this bag is for us, but I could hardly tell what she was saying since she's so soft spoken!" Hilary and Frederic carefully pulled the tissue paper out of the bag. They pulled out a box of pencils and a drawing pad by the DBG company. For the next sixty minutes they doodled their hearts away.

"Know who this is?" Frederic held up his most recent drawing.

"Miss Gabby," Hilary said.
Frederic frowned. "This picture doesn't look anything like her!"

"That's not what I meant—I meant that she's at the door," Hilary corrected him. Frederic opened the door to let in Miss Gabby, allowing the cold air to rush in also.

"Good evening," he greeted her politely.
Miss Gabby grinned. "I just got all my Christmas shopping done. So I thought I'd drop in and give you both your present." She chatted a little about her shopping trip and then left.

"Well, it looks like this is our fifth present for today," Frederic said as he tore the wrapping paper off the gift. Inside were five golden-colored stuffed horses. The twins went to put the horses with the rest of the gifts they'd gotten, then headed to the kitchen to help with supper.

***

''I don't think anyone else is going to drop by since it's dark out," Frederic remarked after they had finished supper. Two minutes later they saw Mr. Cooder Floyd drive up on his four-wheeler.

"Hi kids." He handed them over a Christmas package. "It's for the both of you, although I think Frederic will be the one using it."

"Bye," the twins chorused. Frederic opened the package.

"Oh, it's a woodcarver!" announced Frederic. "I'm gonna try it right now!" He ran to his room. What seemed like forever to Hilary was only an hour till Frederic came out of his room.

"Would one of you get the door for Mr. Frog?" their dad commanded from his office. Frederic obeyed. "Hello, Mr. Frog. What brings you here?"

"Hi Fred, I just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas and give you this present. Well, I got to be going!" Mr. Frog said as he left.

Frederic undid the bow that held the wrapping paper firmly in place to discover that the package contained an electric-purple monster truck.

"And it makes sounds too!" Hilary added. "Come on, we'd better finish wrapping the gifts we're going to give tomorrow. You can play with that later."

For the next hour the eleven-year-olds worked on wrapping gifts. They were almost done when they heard someone at the door again.

"Another visitor!" the twins exclaimed at the same time. Hilary went to see who it was. At their front step was Miss Sunshine.

"Hello, Hilary," piped Miss Sunshine happily. "Here's a Christmas present for you." She handed Hilary a sparkly bag with pink tissue paper. "Ta-ta!" said Miss Sunshine as she danced off into the night in her all-pink dress.
Hilary lifted the contents out of the bag. It was a porcelain doll in a frilly pink dress. "It's gorgeous," Hilary exclaimed as she inspected the doll.

"I gather that's from Miss Sunshine?" guessed Frederic, noticing all the pink on the doll as he peeped into the hallway.

For about an hour the twins finished wrapping their last-minute Christmas gifts. They were about to head upstairs when someone was at the door again. The twins rushed to see who it was. "Oh, hello Mr. Potato, how are you today?" they asked, hoping that he would reply for once.

"Here," Mr. Potato said quickly as he pushed a box into their hands.

"Well, uh, good night!" They waved as they watched Mr. Potato leave with his head hanging low.

"I wonder what's in the the box?" Frederic pondered, trying to open the lid. "It's a Deere." He smiled mischievously.

"Oh, it is?" questioned Hilary, not quite believing him.

"Well, it's a John Deere tractor," he answered truthfully.

"We'd better get ready for bed," Hilary decided.

***

At 11:00 clock they were about to hop into their beds, when they heard a ding-dong come from downstairs. "Miss Carrots is here to see you," their mom told them.

"Hello," they said, coming down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for the lateness of the hour, but my bakery was so busy, it being Christmas Eve and all," Miss Carrots apologized, giving them each a chocolate bar. "I didn't get a chance to wrap them," she said as she stepped outside.

"You two better get to bed," their parents instructed them. Once the twins reached their rooms they quickly fell asleep.

***

A loud ding-dong woke them up.

"Who could be coming to our house at this time?! It's nearly midnight!" Hilary wondered drowsily as she and her brother went downstairs.

"Who was it?" Frederic, still half asleep, asked his parents.

"It was a new neighbor who moved in about two months ago," answered their dad. "He said this was for you." Their dad handed them a gift.

"Why, it's a baby in a monkey outfit!" Hilary lifted the doll out of the box.

"What was the name of the guy who gave us this?" Frederic asked his dad, so that they could give this man a thank-you card.
"I don't know," their dad said, scratching his head. "I think it was something that started with a w."

THE END

Troubleshooting

2011-12-24T20:55:00.001-06:00

So, we find ourselves, this Christmas Eve, preparing for tomorrow. We are, like I said, going to our friends' house for worship (or "church") and will be spending Christmas with them. That means we must transport our wrapped (or unwrapped) gifts with us to be given to their intended owners. So, for us, with our fifteen passenger van, which has eleven individuals already in it, that is a tight fit and presents the potential for a gift to be prematurely disclosed. To avoid such an undesirable event, we decided to remove the middle seat from our vehicle and put the gifts in the vacancy thus made available. That would still give us enough seats to fit our family, and would reduce the probability of damaging a present or its wrapping paper.
Now, the problem.
My older brother, Charles, and I were assigned this task. Now, the seat has not been removed for quite some time (about two years to be exact), and was quite fine with staying where it was, regardless of our intentions. So, after removing the pins from underneath, which are meant to hold the bench in place, we pushed. We were not exactly sure which way to push, so we tried different directions with none of them seeming too promising. After a while our dad came out to get something out of the back, I think, and I took that opportunity to ask him how we were supposed to get this out. He said it was pretty simply "push back and then up." Sounded good. So, I pushed back. Nope. I pushed again, still without the desired effect. Charles, who had been suggesting something about troubleshooting steps, ran inside. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. Perhaps he was going to check with my dad again about the proper method for accomplishing this task.
But no, he came back out with one of his A+ exam books. This book contained the complete list of troubleshooting steps as stated by Comp TIA, a computer-related company. Thus informed, we commenced our endeavour.
Here are the steps, and a record of how we followed them:
Step 1) Identify the problem.
Our answer: the seat will not come out. That was pretty simple.
Step 2) Establish a theory of probable cause. (Question the obvious.)
Our theory of probable cause: it's stuck. I'm not sure how we questioned the obvious.
Step 3) Test the theory to determine the cause.
Nope, it still wouldn't come out. At this point, we went back to step two a few times, trying different hypothesis', none changing the fact that the seat was still not coming out.
Step 4) Establish a plan of action to resolve the problem and implement the solution.
In Charles's words "we just pushed on it." We pushed for a while. It happened at this point that I was maintaining pressure on the bench as we were discussing something, and I heard it give. At last! But, it refused to repeat the occurrence in Charles's hearing, until we were both pushing, and then it gave again. After a while, my brother's side gave as well and we were able to bring the bench out of the car and set it on the sidewalk, and then we proceeded to the next step.
Step 5) Verify full system functionality and if applicable implement preventative measures.
At first Charles suggested that we replace the bench back to it's original position, but I differed, saying that it might get stuck again. He consented and satisfied himself with testing nearly everything else in the vehicle that we could think of. First, he took the keys and started the motor. Then, to my surprise, he put it in drive and gave it some gas. Then reverse, then back to drive. He then affirmed that the steering worked as well as the air conditioning, heater, windows, locks, radio, and park.
Step 6) Document the findings, actions, and outcomes.
This I thought unnecessary, but he did it anyways.
We then (with Mom in the car) drove to the vacuum, cleaned out the car, drove home, ate dinner, and loaded the car with the gifts.
And that is a version of the happenings at my house on the evening of Christmas Eve.

Christmas

2011-12-24T14:00:00.002-06:00

It's Christmas Eve, and I think someone should blog about it (considering it happens only once a year).

For us it has been a unique Christmas. This is our second Christmas in our current location, and last year's was different. For one, there was snow on the ground. For another, we had one less child. Also, there were some preoccupations of ours which we decided not to partake in this year. Lastly, Dad was still the pastor of a church at that time. But, not this year. This year, there is no snow on the ground (yet, maybe), we have Wyatt, we are less distracted, and Dad is not a pastor of the same people as before. In a sense, he still is a pastor, since we have been meeting with the co-authors of this blog on Sundays, and then he teaches. As mentioned before the church is not a building or a place, but people saved by God.
So, despite the differences between last year's and now's, I am looking forward to Sunday. It's not often we have Christmas with another family, but, like I said, I am looking forward to it.
Another difference between last year and this year, and one that happens only every seven years, is that Christmas is on a Sunday! I must have been seven last time the days coincided, and I don't think I really liked the idea. But this time I am glad for it. Sunday is a day of worship, so why not celebrate the birth of the Lord we are worshiping on the same day??
Well, I think that's it. I will try to post pictures of our time together, but I hope we don't forget our camera like last week. ;-)

HTML...hello!

2011-12-23T18:57:00.002-06:00

Well, I am officially signed up for the HTML class mentioned previously in a comment. I am quite glad about it, and am looking forward to it. It starts in January and ends in March, with over-the-web classes every Wednesday. Lord willing, Charles will be able to sign up for the Networking + class also offered, and then maybe we can go together in business. Not that we will stop at this level of learning, but it's a start! So, please pray that both Charles and I will do excellently in our respective classes (Charles has an actual test by a separate company to take at the end; I don't) and that Charles would be able to take the Network + class.
Here's the link to the organization through which we are taking the classes: http://itonramp.com/
It's put on by the oldest son and the father of the Maxwell family, whom you might not be familiar with. They do different conferences here and there and have a lot of good resources. Here is their website: http://titus2.com/
Merry Christmas!

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Special Pictorial Edition, vol. 1 no. 1

2011-12-22T15:47:00.012-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

A church isn’t a place. It’s not a building or an address in the telephone book. It isn’t a tangible entity. A church—the true church—consists of souls regenerated by the Holy Spirit who, like babes, long for the pure milk of God’s Word. Wherever they happen to assemble is of no consequence.

Pastor led a private Bible study in our home last weekend. I’ll admit that the relaxed atmosphere was pleasant (our furniture is considerably cushier than pews, and nobody was obligated to wear a tie), but I wish we hadn’t come by it so heart wrenchingly. We spent the better part of the morning investigating passages that correspond with our current circumstances and discussing the implications of such.

The younger children kept plucking the pen out of Pastor’s shirt pocket, and Charis almost escaped detection in slipping behind the couch. I relished watching their antics. Charis consented to perch on my lap for a short period. The fact that I’ve earned her trust is really quite remarkable, because I used to feel uncomfortable around young children. She won’t hesitate to correct anyone who mispronounces my name “banana,” by the way.

Whilst the aromatic meatloaf and potatoes finished cooking, we descended to the basement rec room (which we did wreck, as will soon become evident). Mariah, Ema, Daniel, Samuel, and Miriam were supposed to read the Christmas stories they’d composed for the second phase of the story club we formed in August, but Charles, for whatever reason, was pepped up and gabbed nonstop for the first twenty minutes. I unwittingly encouraged him by glancing at him every time he opened his mouth, and Ema rebuked me for it. She then asked if we had any duct tape. Joshua threatened to stuff a pillow in Charles’s face. At that point Charles relented, but he still jabbed in comments during the reading. He as much as called me a dork and Mariah a ding-dong (he misinterpreted a couple words in Mariah’s story). He also prematurely assumed that Ema wrote about the Wild West. Her characters were Mary and Joseph. He didn’t notice that conspicuous little detail until Ema mentioned a “bright being” suddenly appearing before Mary.

When the conversation shifted to our blog, Charles nailed me. He charged me with doctoring one of his recent posts. I had to plead guilty. I was caught red-handed. I could have begged for mercy, but I’m not that humble. Typos, grammatical errors, and misspellings rankle me to the bone. My eyes are so well-trained that mistakes seem to protrude from the surrounding text, and my mind will not rest until I’ve swiped the slate clean of them. It’s one of my idiosyncrasies. So you’ll all just have to tolerate me, and, dear reader, please ignore the gibberized comments my companions have been tormenting me with. They’ve taken advantage of the knowledge that blogger won’t allow me to “fix” comments. I can, however, delete comments and revoke blogging privileges if anyone becomes too obnoxious.

Matteo taught our plush horse, Silver, a new trick. Silver has a button on his ear that rouses him to bob his head and bellow, “Hi-ho Silver, away!” Well, Matteo inadvertently changed the line to “Hi-ho Silver, tip over!” He pranced to us with the horse in tow, hopped on, and lost his balance.

Joshua dredged a dust bunny out of our sectional. The vacuum cleaner won’t reach in there.

At two o’clock, we commenced a Christmas party and hurtled through a series of wacky games (for the rules, hit “Frolic” and scroll to the bottom of the page), starting with an indoor snowball fight. I believe it was beneficial for us all to laugh, savor each other’s company, and temporarily forget the events of the past week and the uncertainty in the future.

Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer

Stags in combat

Matteo shot a buck!

Miriam alleges that candy bars unwrap
of their own accord.

Antlers or antennae?

How lovely are thy branches.

Charles, Miriam, and I were supposed to be working together as a team to tailor a costume, but Charles kinda took over and I zoned out. I did arrange Daniel’s hairdo though.

“Remind me again why I agreed to this.”

Joshua was a super-duper good sport:

Elf slippers

Where’s Waldo? and The Centurion

The whole gang (minus Matteo, Charis, and Wyatt). We’re not strange. Really!

Christmas Jokes

2011-12-22T10:50:00.001-06:00

What does Santa use to clean his hands? Santa-tizer!

Why does Scrooge love reindeer? Because every buck is dear to him.

How does Jack Frost get around? By icicle!

What did the hat say to the scarf? "You just hang around while I go on a head!"

What did one snowman say to another snowman? "Hey, do you smell carrots?"

What did the gingerbread man put on his bed? A cookie sheet!

What is the difference between the Christmas alphabet and the ordinary alphabet? The Christmas alphabet has no L.

What does Santa do when he's in his garden? Hoe, hoe, hoe.

What do you call a snowman that has melted away? A no-man!

Which burns longer: a red candle or a green one? Neither, candles always burn shorter.

Today

2011-12-20T16:45:00.002-06:00

Well, today was both a sad and an exciting day for me. As you probably know, I am taking some computer classes, or more specifically, a course on CompTIA's A+ certification. Well, today was my last day of class. :-P As of right now, though I do not feel like it, I should have the knowledge to support and service a small business, including their network, computers, and printers. I still have to take my A+ test, which includes taking two 100-question exams. I am very nervous about that. Please pray that I will be able to pass the test with flying colors, and also that I could use this knowledge to gain at least a small amount of income. Also pray that Joshua will be able to take a class on web design (it starts in January and ends in March) and that I will be able to take a class that explores deeper into networking and helps me get CompTIA's Network + certification. That class starts in February and I am not sure when it ends (they had to postpone the class because CompTIA renewed their network certification; originally they were going to have it in January), but I have a very strong desire to take this class as well.

My Door Post

2011-12-19T17:49:00.000-06:00

Look, I'm getting a door for Christmas!

(Just kidding! This is one of the ways I decorate my room for Christmas—by wrapping my door!)

Grace Community Church Christmas Concert

2011-12-17T18:15:00.001-06:00

Here is a link to the concert in which Ema, Daniel, and I were a part of a few years ago.

http://www.gracechurch.org/live/

They really do a good job. Unfortunately, I did not get to posting it until now, so, consequently, you have missed the first airing. I only got the end of it, anyways. But, it will be on air again tomorrow at 8:00 P.M. central time. I know that that is a little late, but that's because it is actually in California, and it starts at 6:00 their time. This is a church pastored by John MacArthur, who is president of the Master's Seminary where my dad attended for six years. So, we went to this church while we were there. I do miss the concert, but am glad that we are able watch it here.
By the way, you can also watch their Sunday services online as well. I think this link will work for that as well, but I'm not sure. First service starts at 10:30 central time, second at 12:30, and evening service is at 8:00.
I hope you are able to enjoy these!!

My Pencil Drawings

2011-12-16T18:57:00.005-06:00

Well, when all was better, I promised to give you some more pictures that I drew, so here are some more. Explanations of the different pictures are included.

This sketch is what it looks like—a tyrannosaurus rex. I was careful to follow the animal's actual skull to give the most accurate picture possible. I try to do that with all my dinosaurs. Though

coloration is subject of opinion.

Here is a sketch of a skull of a T. rex that I drew and then added some external features. Whether it is corny or not is up to you.

This is a picture of a baby horse that I never finished but I thought that it still didn't look that bad.

I am currently working on this and am not finished. I am trying hard to be anatomically accurate with my spinosaurus (and the crocodile for that matter). You can even see on the spinosaurus where I sketched where the muscle would be, though I couldn't find a picture of a spinosaurus's muscular system, I compared with t. rex muscles (we know dinosaurs' muscular system by looking at the bones and can use how the bones are shaped and looking at markings that are left by the muscle). I plan on having the sketch of the muscles assist me in shading the animal.

Ya, uhh it was a monster from space, I don't know why this is here. :-D

This is a Buddhist monk from National Geographic. I forget what country he is from.

This is one of my favorite pictures, alas though it was smudged before I could protect it. It still looks great. It's an alligator BTW.

My father sketched this from Nat. Geo. It's a polar bear.

"A Jose, como estas?"

I sketched this amigo from a Nat. Geo. He is contemplating a telephone.

"What does a Hispanic firefighter call his sons?"

"Jose and Hose B!!!!"

(You have to understand the Hispanic culture to get that joke, but basically, Jose is the most common name in Mexico and the Southern states, and it is pronounced "hose a.")

You've seen this one.

This was a quick sketch I took at the Creation Museum of a mammoth skull, while waiting in line to watch the planetarium show.

I drew this picture from a Nat. Geo. It's a monkey...and a cat. I didn't care for this one when I first drew it, but now that I look at it, it is really not that bad.

I drew these sketches from Nat. Geo. :-D, just pulling your leg. This is some sketches of a spinosaurus, which, by the way, is my favorite dinosaur!

This is a ring tail lemur that I drew from Nat. Geo. (not joking this time). The first pastel drawing from me ever! Real drawing that is.

Last, but definitely not least, is the mighty TYRANNOSAURUS REX!!!!!!!! (Though I wouldn't say I finished best for last, this gallery was in no particular order :-). I got this picture from the cover of Answers magazine.

I don't know if you noticed or not, but I like sketches. To me sketches are almost better than the finished piece, though the sketches be not a masterpiece. I would rather flip through Rembrandt's or da Vinci's sketch books than to walk through a gallery with their original pieces, though that would be great. Sketches are almost more realistic or (for the lack of a better term) expressive of what you are trying to draw. But no sketch is a masterpiece.

I thought this also might be of interest, a tyrannosaurus muscular system. Note: this is a guess from studying the skeletal system and markings on the bones themselves—the only way of verifying the art would be to see a real life t. rex. I did not draw this.

The Sunrise After the Nightmare

2011-12-15T16:02:00.000-06:00

I wanted to erase the day from the calendar of space and time. I wanted my heart to cease palpitating. I wanted to shut out what I was hearing and seeing—the sugarcoated lies, the betrayal, the heartlessness exhibited by professing Christians.

It was rigged, I tell you, it was all rigged!

I wanted to demand why they were suddenly, after months of seeming concord, turning on Pastor. Because he spoke the truth (Galatians 4:16)???

When I retreated to the parsonage next door, I wanted to pretend I was unconscious of the impending tragedy. I wanted to play with the kids, to hold Charis forever, and ignore the lump in my throat. As Charles and Joshua burst in a few minutes later, I wanted to disbelieve the anguish that was etched on their faces.

I wanted to offer some kind of solace to Pastor—to assure him that he’d done right by fighting the good fight. I wanted to absorb the voices around me like a sponge, and then filter out the pain. I wanted to hug Mariah. I wanted to hug Ema. And I wanted to run to J.T.’s house and hug him, too. I wanted to pinch myself and awaken. I wanted to stop shaking. I wanted to explode, and although I probably shouldn’t have in quite that manner, on the way home, I did. I wanted to get rid of the junk inside my head.

But I won’t say anything. I won’t say anything at all. I’ll simply let it rest.

There will be at least a few more Sunday Morning Chronicles, but the setting will be different. We won’t be driving the long haul to church, loitering in the foyer, sitting at the pews, or playing games in our beloved Sunday school room again.

Freds, if you’re reading this (and I’m sure you are, because I strongly suspect you’re the only people that care a hoot about our internet cubbyhole, besides myself, my family, and my loyal BFF), remember:

“Therefore, since we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we do not lose heart. But we have renounced the hidden things of shame, not walking in craftiness nor handling the word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, whose minds the god of this age has blinded, who do not believe, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine on them. For we do not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your bondservants for Jesus' sake. For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed—always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are always delivered to death for Jesus' sake, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So then death is working in us, but life in you.
And since we have the same spirit of faith, according to what is written, "I believed and therefore I spoke," we also believe and therefore speak, knowing that He who raised up the Lord Jesus will also raise us up with Jesus, and will present us with you. For all things are for your sakes, that grace, having spread through the many, may cause thanksgiving to abound to the glory of God.
Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians chapter 4)

“Two are better than one, Because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.
But woe to him who is alone when he falls,
For he has no one to help him up.
Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm;
But how can one be warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him.
And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”
(Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, emphasis mine)

Apparently we need to pray for a thicket of people’s eternal souls.

Pencil Sketches

2011-12-14T17:14:00.003-06:00

I would like to share with you some of my art. This includes only a few of my drawings, so I hope to get some more on here.

This Asian fellow is the dictator of North Korea, Kim Jon Il by name. I drew him from a magazine just because. :-D

If you don't know who this is then either I did a bad job or you should go back a couple of grades. I probably did a bad job.

Joshua????? What are you doing here?

I do plan on getting some more on here.

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 4

2011-12-14T11:02:00.001-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Scratch the intro, because this press run will not exude a humorous, lighthearted flavor. Depending upon what befalls at the hearing tonight, The Sunday Morning Chronicle may be discontinued indefinitely. If you find that statement shocking, you need to backtrack and read the tear-jerker I composed on the fifth.

Though I had every intention of attending worship, I spent the Lord ’s Day at home. I was up before dawn, dragged on a walk with Zookie, and dressed (purposefully in purple, so that I could wear the watch Charles and Joshua gave me, which as of late they’ve accused me of disliking). But I broke down at the last moment.

The prospect of saying goodbye to a family I’ve grown to love is almost unbearable, so I won’t go there.

I kept glancing at the clock throughout the morning and picturing the routine I knew was being observed at church. I wondered whether another question and answer session would take place during Sunday school, if Mariah was able to speak to Ema, what Pastor would be preaching about, which of the younger children would be roaming the halls and sanctuary... I burned up some time with a few tasks—I read several chapters in the Bible, put the final coat of paint on my computer cabinet’s doors, and cleared part of the mess on the floor—but my mind was preoccupied. I ultimately sat around thinking, praying, and waiting for my family to return. The house, except for the radio that my mom had tuned to a Christmas station, was so quiet. I was reminded of how vacant our Sundays were before God provided us with a church, and I apprehended the fathomless void that will be left in numerous lives if Pastor is evicted and the congregation is shredded.

If you are a believer and a patron of this blog, I beseech you to intercede before the throne of grace on behalf of those involved.
Pray for:
Pastor
His family
The congregation
And the instigators of the turmoil

Tomorrow will either be a celebration or a funeral.

Season's Cheer

2011-12-13T12:09:00.000-06:00

Here are some of the best Christmas card designs I made this year:

A Preview

2011-12-10T13:24:00.003-06:00

My bedroom’s current status: disaster zone. Take heed, you will never again catch me associating those words with my private chamber. I am a certified neat freak.

Ahem. But! At the nucleus of any creative endeavor, there is always a chaotic stage.

I am, after an extended delay due to technical difficulties, finally carrying out the vow I made a year ago to convert my room’s color scheme from every shade of the rainbow to exclusively lavender and aquamarine. While I’m waiting for a coat of paint to dry, I thought it would be fun to display a quartet of scraps from the construction site...

Hopefully a conclusion to this story will be posted within a fortnight.

Sour Cream Cut-outs

2011-12-10T11:20:00.000-06:00

Picture courtesy of Brianna

Some sugar cookies are hard, but these are soft! And they're really good! They're excellent for Christmas.

1 cup butter, softened

1 1/2 cups sugar

3 eggs

1 cup sour cream (8 oz.)

2 tsp. vanilla

4 1/2 cups flour

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar. Mix in eggs. Add sour cream and vanilla. Combine dry ingredients in a different bowl. Add it to the wet mixture. Chill the dough at least 2 hours. Roll dough on a heavily floured board to about 1/4 inch thickness. Cut into whatever shapes you want. Place on greased cookie sheets. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes.

White stuff...?

2011-12-09T18:36:00.003-06:00

This morning I woke up to a heavy frost on the ground...or was it snow? Yes, that would be snow. :) I captured a few shots of our cats out there also. The second picture down (the first cat pictured) is Flopsy. The other cat would be Harry.

Small Gestures Can Have a HUGE Impact

2011-12-09T11:54:00.000-06:00

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

2011-12-09T11:43:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is decorating. Last Saturday I got to help decorate a church for the first time in my entire life.

When we finally got there (we were late), I started handing out Christmas cards to the people that came. I had made cards for the entire congregation that week, and I decided to hand them out that day.

We started by fluffing up the tree in the sanctuary. We ended up decorating it in silver and gold.

After we ate lunch, Ema and I decided to finish decorating the 'shrinking' tree (the box said it was supposed to be 6 feet tall, but it seemed more like 5 feet). We decorated it with crocheted snowflakes and angels while Matteo and Charis went boating in the box from which we removed the tree.

Once we were satisfied with our work, all of us (including J.T.) marched to the Sunday school room (also known as our 'game room') to give it some Christmas cheer.

Here are some things that happened during our game-room decorating:

I accidentally let out my long-kept secret—I'm only one year old. (For the full account of this, see Ema's post...when and if she publishes it.)

I stabbed Joshua. At least it was just a thumbtack. I think we should have checked the classroom for any that might have fallen on the floor, because when we got home I discovered that I had one stuck in my shoe! No injuries though.

Daniel worked on his classroom while we worked on ours. He did a spectacular job!

I think Banana has been in the fridge too long. She's starting to get snow on her. (Ema tucked a fake snowflake into the hood of Brianna's sweater.)

J.T. wanted to put a tree topper on the tree that looked like it came from India. We settled for an angel instead.

We were hoping to string lights across the ceiling, but we didn't have enough. Still, I think the room looked mighty nice.

Not long after that, the dreaded words were spoken: "Time to leave." The only thing I dislike about being with friends is when we have to leave.

Church decorating

2011-12-08T22:24:00.004-06:00

Well, here are some photos from our decorating party last week. I didn't get a whole lot of pictures, but I selected these to be published. I also don't have pictures of the decorating upstairs, I don't think, except the first one. I think it was just bad timing that Mrs. H was not smiling in that one.

Unsaid

2011-12-06T10:55:00.001-06:00

“...She had learned to cry without really crying. She would allow the tears to pool in her eyes until her vision blurred and then she would blink them back to prevent them from spilling. Sometimes though, as now, she was unsuccessful and the tears would spill anyway...”

“...Compassion pushed at the seams of [her] heart, ready to slosh into puddles on the floor...”

I tore the above sentences out of my unfinished, unpublished novel. They depict my female protagonist’s emotions in two separate situations, but at the moment they seem to be an undulation of my own feelings.

I’ve been on the verge of tears a lot lately, and I have dropped over the brink—I've cried in the shower, I've cried after everyone else has retired to bed, I've cried during a quick stolen hiatus to the bathroom, and I've cried while clasped in the embrace of my mom. I’ve never experienced such a deep, rending ache.

On Saturday a clump of us were in a room together, having fun and acting as if nothing were amiss. But the silent chasms in our conversations spoke volumes. I yearned to give a hug to someone, and when a certain toddler permitted me to take her up in my arms, I was assuaged inwardly. I wanted to cling to her, to freeze that minute in time, because her world—our world—was about to be turned upside down.

Wolves are attempting to ravage our shepherd. He dished out the truth as contained in God’s inerrant Word, and they vomited it. They aim to exile him.

Lord, forgive them, for they know not what they do!

Our shepherd has cultivated this desert land. He has nourished and cared for the sheep. His family has walked alongside him, serving and bonding with the sheep. Life wouldn’t be the same without them.

“Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy. If you are reproached for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. On their part He is blasphemed, but on your part He is glorified” (1 Peter 4:12-14).

The two consolations: it isn’t over yet, and God is in control. So I will appeal to the heavenly court.

“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Poem number 2

2011-12-04T18:51:00.000-06:00

Ding, ding, here goes round two; let me know what you think!

Wherever You Lead

Wherever You lead I'll follow, Lord
Wherever You want I'll go
For if ever there's a place You want me, Lord
To me, oh God, You'll show.

Wherever You lead I'll follow, Lord
Even to the end of the land
For I know that when You return,
My reward shall be more grand.

I might add more to it, depending on if I can think of the right words.

Church Decorating—plus a shocking discovery

2011-12-04T16:19:00.024-06:00

Do-doodle-do, drum roll please, my most astounding discovery is... Well, I'll make it simple and just recount the conversation:

We (Banana, me, Mariah, and occasionally Charles, Samuel, Miriam, Daniel, and Matteo) were observing the unusual motions of Joshua and J.T. as they attempted to pin lights up around the perimeter of the Jr. high room, when Mariah revealed a very well-kept secret.

Ema: "Hey, while we wait, let's work ahead and start putting Easter stuff up!"

Banana: (face twists into an amused grin) "Ha, ha, very funny."

Mariah: (excitedly) "My birthday is around that time!"

Ema: (nodding slightly) "Yeah, I'll be fourteen already!"

Mariah: (solemnly) "Yes, I will be two!"

(Let the reader understand, she meant too!)

Despite her age, Mariah turned out to be a very pleasant and helpful companion for decorating. She and I paired up with Brianna and tackled a stubborn pine needle garland head on. Eventually we succeeded in gracefully draping it around some Christmas cacti, and producing a lovely wreath from the extras to grace the mirror in the lady's restroom. Following our victory, Brianna turned her attention to something else, while Mariah and I headed downstairs to set up yet another tree. It turned out to be an angel tree, considering how many angel ornaments that we discovered and therefore put on the tree. Even I must confess that it was pretty, all shiny with lights, angels, and snowflakes. Phew, I was glad to finally have a white tree. For some odd reason, folks seem rather surprised when I say that I much prefer a white lit tree over any other color I have seen yet. The others are nice, of course, but just the same I do like white trees. Well, as Mariah has done such a fine job at describing our adventures in the game room, I won't force you to put up with mine. I wish everyone a very merry Christmas!

Snack Time

2011-12-01T15:31:00.000-06:00

We were eating banana! We were so hungry that we were eating Brianna!

Who it, who it, who it, who it, who it, who it. Yes, we got you! Who it!

More pictures

2011-11-30T22:37:00.008-06:00

Here are some more pictures from our Christmas-tree getting trip. I have quite a few, but I want to edit them first. I will likely not post all of them. :)

Shopping. Or probably just walking around.

What is he doing?

Eye spy...

Another blog

2011-11-30T21:37:00.007-06:00

Hello.

Here is another blog that you might want to follow. I have been following this blog for a long time. I'm not exactly sure how long. If it helps, I remember when he learned how to walk. That was a while ago. I think he is five now.

http://www.prayingfornoah.com/

Currently, he is not doing that well. So I would ask specifically for prayer for them. Not only for just Noah (that's his name, by the way), but for his family. He has seven siblings, and his mom and dad. Sometimes she posts on Facebook because it's easier, but she gets to the blog too.

Thank you!

The Evergreen Scavengers

2011-11-30T15:46:00.000-06:00

On Friday last, my dad led a small caravan of vehicles to the local tree farm. We’ve been going there ever since I was a child, but we haven’t invited friends to accompany us in nearly a decade. This year we initiated a course of action that I hope will become a longstanding tradition.

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect—unless the clouds had sneezed snowflakes. The temperature topped sixty, and it was blustery.

Armed with measuring sticks, we marched into the field, although not in single file. We fissured east and west and north and south, which, along with our numbers (fifteen people), is probably what convinced the staff that we were two or three separate parties. We must have looked pretty helpless, because they repeatedly asked us if we needed assistance. I was almost inclined to inquire whether they needed help.

Charles and Joshua failed to bring their archery equipment. No matter. I shot plenty, as did our moms. I’ll not bore you by rehashing the aspects of our afternoon that have already been recorded: how we appropriated a pair of pines, lit and ornamented them, and that Mariah is scared of insects. So I will simply close with a string of portraits that our cameras ‘executed.’

A conversation with Mr. Matteo

How about this one?

Charis and big brother Charles

The lone, cold hikers

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
Walk as children of light” (Ephesians 5:8).

En masse

My lame attempt at bunny ears. The photographer signaled me to
raise my fingers higher, but I didn’t get it.

Charles desperately needs a shave. (You may want to click the image
to enlarge it.)

I stumped Charles.

The flip side of the third picture in Joshua’s post

And while I was busily pressing the shutter button, all sorts of

curious things were occurring behind and before me…

Deer tonight!!!

2011-11-29T20:10:00.002-06:00

Well, I have exciting news. Dad got his first deer this season! Plus it is a nice-sized buck. The only problem is that Dad wasn't hunting—he was on his way out of town...
In case you haven't guessed, yes, he hit a deer. It has done damage on our beloved truck. Currently a few of us (despite my illness I am going to try to come) are on our way to get the deer because it is legal to possess a hit deer. Pray that we will find the deer and that the truck will get better.

Forever Filling Pancakes

2011-11-29T11:02:00.000-06:00

That isn't the real name, but I disliked the original name, so I changed it.

These pancakes are really filling! We usually put fruit on top of them, but you can put syrup, chocolate chips, or anything else that strikes your fancy.

2 1/2 cups flour

1 tbs. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1 3/4 cups milk

2 large eggs

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1/3 cup packed brown sugar

Combine flour, baking powder, and salt in large bowl. Combine milk, eggs, vegetable oil, and brown sugar in medium bowl. Then add it to flour mixture. Stir until moistened.

Heat the skillet (or griddle) over medium heat. Cook until bubbles begin to burst. Cook till golden. Do the same with the rest of the batter. Makes about 16 medium-sized pancakes.

Who Will Be Next?

2011-11-29T10:58:00.000-06:00

Ugh. I'm surrounded by sickness! First my dad came down with a cold, and now Brianna has it. We also found out that Charles has the stomach bug. I hope they get well soon and that no one else catches it! I can handle stuffy noses (which I'm used to since I have allergies), but I DO NOT like sore throats. This shows you how much I detest sore throats: I would rather eat a bowlful of mint than get a sore throat. So right now my mom and I are trying to be extra cautious. After all, it is 'tis the season' to get sick.

To whoever is unwell: I hope you recover speedily!

Monday Funnies

2011-11-28T11:54:00.001-06:00

Q: When may a chair be said to dislike you?
A: When it can't bear you.

Q: When can a horse be sea-green in color?
A: When it's a bay.

Q: When are we all artists?
A: When we draw a long face.

Q: What is bookkeeping?
A: Forgetting to return borrowed volumes.

Q: When is a tall man a little short?
A: When he hasn't got quite enough cash.

Q: Why is a little man like a good book?
A: Because he is often looked over.

Q: What plant stands for No. 4?
A: IV.

Q: Which is the longest word in the English language?

A: Smiles; because there is a mile between the first and last letters.

Q: When is a door not a door?
A: When it is a-jar.

Q: Why should a man always wear a watch when he travels in a waterless desert?

A: Because every watch has a spring in it.

I'm AWOL

2011-11-27T13:38:00.004-06:00

Salutations! This is Brianna, ace reporter for The Sunday Morning Chronicle, here to deliver a (rare) live newscast from inside the walls of our beloved church. All is quiet at the moment—probably because I’m alone. Ah, solitude. Sometimes it is a refreshing respite, and at other times it can be disconcerting.

My companions are going to miss me in a few more seconds.

Back to the subject: Lunch has been consumed and is in the process of being digested (or at least it should be, according to scientific principles). Practice for our Christmas choir is next on the agenda. I’m already a bundle of nerves. Afterwards (if I don’t faint) I’m hoping and praying and crossing my fingers that we’ll be able to ‘frolic’ for a while. I predict, also, that aliens will attempt to abduct Charles again. Whether he will resist or acquiesce is uncertain.

There, now I’ve hit two birds with one stone! I’ve repaid a certain young man for his mischief last week, as well as broken my silence of yester eve, when my friends (and sister) inundated this blog and I couldn’t thrust a word in edgewise (though I was secretly cheering for Ema).

I’d best skedaddle.

Christmas Gift Idea

2011-11-26T21:36:00.003-06:00

I thought I would share a Christmas gift idea that would be great for our family. I thought I would share a video of it with you.

(Yes, I am a little tired.)

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree!

2011-11-26T20:00:00.004-06:00

Here are a few moments from yesterday, when we retrieved a tree to put in our houses and decorate. Finding just the right one was a bit of a challenge, but I think the trees selected were satisfactory.

I would like to pose a couple questions in regard to the 4th picture down: what is Ema doing? What is Brianna doing? Miriam doesn't appear to know. It might just stay at that.

Hunting the Boring Part

2011-11-26T19:44:00.002-06:00

Well, we went hunting yesterday; this hunting we brought weapons but we didn't use them, though. At least we learned that it is not a good idea to hunt on Saturdays. On the lake we had a duck hunter quacking occasionally, and now and again we would hear BANG, which was his gun. That didn't encourage the deer to get very close. Once I leaned in between a few trees hoping I would wait until the deer came near, but instead of deer, some joggers jogged past us. We met up and drove to a different spot, which was over run with bird hunters, so there would be no possibility of any stags sauntering past us. We went home frustrated and without a story.

2011-11-26T18:18:00.007-06:00

Alright, I have a few questions. First of all, how in the world do you fit a whole sermon of theology into a couple four or so line stanzas? I mean, I could just keep writing...and writing...and writing...but I would not only run out of words, but I would be rather dizzy. Sometimes, though not often, I will happen across just the right words to exactly describe what I'm thinking. Then...KABOOM! and I have a beautifully delicate chain of words that wonderfully compliments any other noteworthy gem that I may attach.

Secondly, how can I try to spread our blog abroad when my first attempt is nipped at the bud by other mouths eager to throw in a comment? [May no offense be taken by the owners of those mouths, please; you should not have been so naughty! Hmmmm. Perhaps someday in the far-reaching future I shall have another chance at it. Or maybe one of those ever-present naughty siblings, I mean mouths. :]

Thirdly, is it just me, or do I sound different in my writing than my talking? Hopefully, I think hopefully anyways, I don't sound very different.

Fourthly, though this is not necessarily a question, I really enjoyed hunting with Brianna and Mariah. I am amazed that both our families actually filled our tags, considering how large our hunting party was! I mean, there were fifteen people! Who cares that our prey were Christmas trees, it was still quite an accomplishment!

Well, thank you for listening to my questions, though I'm not sure I should really expect many answers.

Hunting Adventure

2011-11-26T17:21:00.000-06:00

Yesterday we went hunting. We go once every year around this time. We didn’t bring arrows, guns, or anything like that. You are probably thinking that you can’t go hunting without weapons. But there is one kind of hunting that doesn’t require weapons—Christmas tree hunting.

We met our friends at a tea room and they followed us to the tree farm. So, we began our expedition to find the perfect Christmas tree. Choruses of “This would be a good place to play hide and seek” echoed throughout the hunting party as we wove through the lines of pine trees. We contemplated getting an orange Christmas tree, but we settled for an ordinary green one instead.

After we had picked out our trees, we headed up front to take a group picture. As the adults snapped photos, mysterious horns appeared on some of us. (Really! We have pictures to prove it!) We talked a little and then everyone went to their own home.

We were planning to decorate our tree that night, but we realized that we didn’t have enough light sets. My mom bought some more and we’ll be decorating it tonight.

We almost always end up getting a fat tree. They look fine at the tree farm, but they seem to expand when you bring them home. We also discovered that our tree was ‘buggy.’ It had a praying mantis and a cricket on it. Two flying insects appeared in our house shortly after we brought the tree inside, too. It certainly smells nice though!

Banana will be posting pictures eventually.

Thanksgiving Day

2011-11-24T17:20:00.004-06:00

Last night my mom and I made chocolate mousse torte (it's like a chocolate cream pie) and peaches and cream french toast (I didn't like it; I thought it was too eggy) for Thanksgiving. Today we decorated the outside of our house while dad put up the snow fence. Mom thought we had better do it today before it gets too cold. We had our usual Thanksgiving dinner of ham, mashed potatoes & gravy, rolls, corn, and noodles. Later we'll have dessert and probably watch an old movie.

Happy Thanksgiving!

May We Be Truly Thankful...

2011-11-24T16:10:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I find that it’s hard to be thankful when I’m having one of those days in which everything seems to go wrong. I seem to only focus on the stuff that didn’t go my way, when I should be praising God for everything. Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks to the Lord, but sometimes I forget that I should have a thankful attitude every day of the year. It is easy to be thankful at Thanksgiving because I’m surrounded by the people I love, I’m all cozy inside, and yummy food is baking in the oven. However, we ought to be thankful today and every day. “In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

If I were to list every single thing I’m thankful for, it would probably take you till next Thanksgiving to read it! But I will mention a few things: the Bible, family and friends, our house, our pets, our church, this blog, books, music, school, colored pencils, my clothes, butterflies, flowers, jokes, and Christmas.

Hunting cont...

2011-11-24T13:30:00.002-06:00

Alas, my story has no ending... YET!! Though I do have more to the story.

Today we got up around 5:00/5:30 A.M. ish to go hunting for the cunning beast of the woods.When we got to the desired hunting spot there also was another hunter, but that was the last time we saw him. Joshua, my dad, and I went to the same spot as last night...nothing. I was almost certain that we would come home without a story, but at least I was not to be disappointed.
After walking a few hours around the same area as last night without seeing a thing, we walked further on a hiker's path. Again we spooked some deer who ran in the opposite direction from us, unlike last night. We followed the trail hoping to see deer as we went down hills before they see us. That didn't work. We then decided to head back and we were going to split up and meet at the ravine that we frequent frequently. Joshua went one way off the trail, later becoming lost. Dad stayed to the trail with the hope that Joshua or myself would spook the deer in his direction. I went in a little valley off the trail. There I had an experience!
After walking a ways and seeing leaves disturbed by deer, I began to sense that a herd of deer were close by. I could hear their footsteps. Pretty soon bucks (plural not singular), with antlers, were running this way and that, no more than 100 yards from me. I drew bow just in case. After waiting a little more, listening to the deer dash to and fro, I let down my bow. Then a big daddy buck walked in my direction, straight towards me! I guess he was curios to know what I was. He sauntered not 20 to 30 yards or so from me. I could see his nostrils moving. I do not flinch. His rack was a good size in width, didn't have points everywhere, but he was a good one, I would say 6 points. His neck was also thick with a deep black steak running down it. But woe, I could not shoot! If I would draw my bow, he would spook and run away. Also in the area I was in you are supposed to harvest an antlerless deer (a doe) before an antlered one. This guy had antlers. Last reason is that my tag was for antlerless deer and not buck! If I shot him I could lose my license! Well, I had to let him go. I turned around to watch some more bucks run away; then I saw the first non-buck deer, a little yearling. Soon it was followed by a doe (presumably its mother). I contemplated getting the doe, but I also contemplated the sportsmanship of killing a little deer's mother (no, it wasn't Bambi and his mother!), the young one was probably weaned and would be fine but... That and the doe was running, so it wouldn't be a good shot or I should say I wasn't comfortable shooting at her. I probably could have still made the shot though.
Well, I walked back to the path when all the deer were gone and now and again I would still see a deer or two run. The rest of the morning we saw no deer. Well, we don't know when is the next time we are going to hunt BUT maybe there will be an ending to the story.

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 3

2011-11-23T15:39:00.000-06:00

A randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Charles paraphrased: “Who needs facebook! We’ve got our own private social network! Only it’s ‘spiritualized.’” So please pardon our banter.

The day began normally enough. We drove the long haul to church, arrived while Sunday school was still in session, exchanged small talk with one of the elderly greeters, patronized the foyer for a half hour, and then we scuttled into a pew, followed along as Pastor read Psalm 35, prayed, raised our voices in song, sat down to hear the weekly announcements, prayed, watched the offering plate traverse the aisle, stood for another hymn, sat down again, prayed, hearkened to Pastor’s sermon, prayed, joined in a chorus of Without Him, and sent up a closing prayer. It wasn’t until after the congregation had been dismissed and everyone was beelining for the front door that events took an unexpected turn. The boys set a world record by preceding us to the Sunday school room. In all our history of playing games together, that has never ever happened before. I went to retrieve Apples to Apples from the trunk of the car, and when I returned Charles and Joshua were striding down the hallway ahead of us girls. I hollered at them that they were bucking protocol, but they ignored me. Joshua entered the classroom and lowered himself into a chair. Charles ducked behind the door. I suspect he intended to startle me, but, thanks to Daniel and the others’ harassment, I’m now practically scare-proof. (Note to self: I probably just boasted to my own demise in tempting someone to test that theory.)

The round was brief. We agreed upon a goal of five green apple cards (the customary winning amount), and Mariah accomplished it first. Everyone was acting rather restless. We were hungry and dreaming of pizza. Joshua proposed that we dispatch a message to the adults upstairs, beseeching them to grant our wish, but I reasoned that they’d only say no again. So we replaced the cards in the box and discussed what to do next. Out of the blue, Charis began thumping me on the back. One of the boys commanded her to stop, but I gestured that I didn’t mind. She grew braver each time she approached, and eventually she was climbing on my chair and grasping my shoulders with her tiny hands. As the others were leaving to perform a trial of Double Seekers, she latched onto my forearm. “Brianna, please. Brianna, please,” she babbled. I had no idea what she wanted. Yielding to a sudden impulse, I bent and inserted my hands beneath her armpits. Much to my surprise and delight, she allowed me to pick her up. She sniffed my shirt and informed me that I “smelled good.” I carried her for as long as my poor weak arms could bear it. And, throughout the remainder of the day, she would dash up to me and extend her arms, begging to be held.

I’m afraid we underestimated our dear parents. While we were occupied with Apples to Apples, they were scheming. On our way up the basement stairs and past the front door, we spied our dads outside in the parking lot. They were each freighting a stack of pizza boxes. You cannot imagine our exultations of joy!

Two tables were quickly uncloseted and set up in the fellowship hall. Miriam saved me a place at the rectangle table and insisted that I sit beside her. Charles bracketed her on the opposite side, Matteo was at the left end of the table and Charis was at the right, Mariah sat across from Charles, and Ema sat across from me—that was the maximum amount of persons our table could accommodate. Ema bit into a slice of pineapple-topped pizza. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, for which I was immediately ridiculed. It’s not fair! I was outnumbered. Everyone I know is fond of pineapple pizza! (Except for my grandpa. He dislikes pizza, period.)

Charles, cutting me no slack, drilled me on history. I flunked. For Pete’s sake, it’s been well-nigh four years since I graduated and studied that branch of curriculum. I’m bound to have forgotten some details.

Interesting fact: Charles and Joshua used to toss (live) chickens into the air for sport.

J.T. came over after lunch had been adjourned. He helped the ladies dig out the Christmas decorations, and, consequently, he also conked Charles on the noggin with an object. I was not an eyewitness, but I got wind of the vengeance—I mean, accident. I was loath to have missed it. Thank you, J.T.! We may request your services again.

Miriam was my hiding buddy during Double Seekers. At one point, she, Matteo, and I were scrunched into a corner together. But that was nothing compared to Joshua’s feat! He deserved a trophy. Somehow he managed to fold his lanky physique into a recess in the sound system cabinet—and dragged a chair partway in after him! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen him emerge. I’d considered crawling under there myself, but I doubted I would fit. Maybe Joshua is related to Gumby, he’s so flexible.

J.T. utilized his cell phone as a searchlight. He glared it into my face, exclaiming “I found you!” I reacted by grimacing and stomping my foot. That scared him silly. He staggered backwards and then bowled over in laughter.

…And when all else failed, the kids resorted to rummaging for me in the refrigerator. I am a banana, after all.

Prior to the evening service, we launched our fourth episode of Bump in the Night. I could hardly run because my feet were shod in heeled black boots, and my skirt forced me to move in mince steps. (Oh, the pain I endure to have a little fun.) I desperately wished I’d packed sneakers and pants as a precaution. The other participants weren’t any easier on me either. We all huddled into a nook at the rear of the church, and when “IT” appeared, everyone stampeded off, exposing me to missile fire. Nice display of chivalry, men!

I was exhausted by the time we trudged inside for worship. But I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

Joshua assisted Wyatt in waving goodbye. I look forward to the day he’ll be able to bid us farewell on his own.

Hunting

2011-11-22T18:35:00.002-06:00

Well, here is a chronicle of our hunting adventure in the last two days, still haven't killed anything.

Yesterday we spent our whole day, save the morning hours and two hours at night, searching for a special permit to hunt on a lake (well, the forest around the lake). So when we finally were able to hunt, there was only a few more hours of daylight. We did get to go hunting. In short, we did see a buck, never got a shot though.
Yesterday we went to the same place and just walked around looking for deer. My dad, brother, and I split in different directions. Where the spot was is a little valley or ravine, and we were coming down the hill, that was when we split. I went ahead to the other side of the valley on the other hill. I walked on the top of the hill and decided to descend back into the valley, which was further from where I came. I started to do that when I heard a weird noise. If you have ever watched Jurassic Park, you probably remember what the velociraptor sounded like. Well, that is the best I can describe it is like when one of those raptors "call" in the movie. I was startled (which it is not a good thing to get startled by your game when hunting). I watched run away somewhere. I then sat down and waited. After a while I got a call from the walkie-talkies that it was time to rejoin. I then rejoined my father and my brother. Here is the exciting part. As we were walking away we spooked some deer not that far away. We stopped and ducked down, listening to them scatter. As we were listening, we could hear that one was running straight towards us! When we first stooped down my first thought was to knock my bow, Joshua's first thought was WOE!!, and, well, my dad found himself staring at a deer about 10 yards away, so his only thought was to hold still! The deer actually ran and stopped right in front of Dad, presenting itself a perfect target for myself and my younger sibling! During that time I was attempting to knock my bow. Joshua saw me doing this and, realizing the opportunity, he started to knock his bow. All this time dad is the only one who can actually see the deer; Joshua and I just know it's there. Well, I finally got my arrow ready and had to click it onto my string and it did click. Joshua's arrow clicked. The deer took off in the opposite direction. We were weeping and grunting and...
So, my story hasn't ended yet, but I must finish. Lord willing, the ending will present itself tomorrow.

Fa-la-lah!

2011-11-22T15:00:00.000-06:00

We’re decking the halls today!

A Tribute

2011-11-21T12:23:00.000-06:00

Three cheers for my good pal, Emily, who assembled this awe-inspiring background and header for us!

She’s a brilliant person. Besides dabbling in graphic design, she writes fiction and recently released a Christmas eBook. I’m not qualified to appraise the content (I haven’t read it yet because I’m tied up in a 400+ page novel from the 1800’s right now), but I encourage you to have a look-see. The book is free to download and she is hoping to attract a heavy flow of traffic.

Secondly, I would like to extend gratitude to the group of precocious, witty, effervescent individuals who have consorted with me in this great adventure called blogging. I never would have attempted it alone. I daresay I will keep you all on your toes, but you might need to tell me when to hush up (or cap my pen or cease pounding the keyboard, as the case may be). “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine making request for you all with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:3-6).

2011-11-20T15:50:00.002-06:00

Right now I am in my room making folks at Church wait for me in order to continue hide & seek.

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 2

2011-11-17T16:04:00.001-06:00

A small, randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

We were running behind, so we didn’t arrive at the tail end of Sunday school as we usually do. I had about ten minutes to deliver our food (for the potluck later) to the kitchen, beam a “Good morning!” to bystanders, and scoot into our customary pew.

The guest speaker stepped up to the pulpit. His tie was askew—until he straightened it. Then he started talking about who he was and where he was from. His sermon, once he got to the meat, stressed the urgency with which we Christians ought to witness to unbelievers. Well, um, I’m all for that, because time is short, but in his methods I detected connotations of ‘easy-believism.’ He seemed to intimate that we should pull our unbelieving neighbors into our homes on a conveyor belt and then shuttle them back out again after they have ‘accepted Christ.’ (The whole ‘accept Jesus into your heart’ gig is not biblical, by the way.) He never mentioned repentance or the need for converts to assay their lives for fruit. And I had to resist cringing over his frequent use of the ill-constructed phrase, “win souls for Christ.” Salvation is a sovereign work of God, not a manmade bar code for shipping people to heaven that can be stamped on anyone at anytime. Frankly, I was not impressed. Sure, the guy had style and was humorous—and a dash of wit can hydrate a sermon. After all, Paul, one of the apostles, often employed sarcasm. However (here comes the ‘but’!), doctrinal veracity is more important.

At noon, congregation members gathered in the fellowship hall to partake of a meal. Pastor said the prayer. Everyone dished and scooped and forked their way through the buffet line. I probably could have predicted, with deadly accuracy, where each person would situate themselves. Me, Joshua, Ema, and Mariah elected to sit together, and Matteo joined us for dessert. J.T. wandered over as well and engaged in a brief chat with Joshua. We tried to coerce him into returning at dusk for a round of one of our favorite active games, Bump in the Night. Joshua claimed that J.T. would decline if he asked him, so he implored me to do the job. I layered on the sweetness, adding ‘pretty’ and ‘sugar’ to my ‘please.’ I never got to find out if it worked though. Maybe I should have tossed in cherries, too.

Joshua apparently detests cold fried chicken. He had a hunk of it on his plate, which he picked up and fingered, announced was cold, and immediately set down. (I never saw him eat it.) Later he reported to his mom that the chicken was cold.

Charles confectioned pumpkin cheesecake for the potluck. I was fortunate to procure a half of one of the last few pieces. The chef served it to me himself. It had a tasty, spice-laden flavor.

While the kitchen crew began clearing away evidence of our feast, I exited to exchange my skirt for a pair of jeans and to fetch a water bottle from the car. It fell to our lot to clean the church building that afternoon. We (that is, all the authors of this blog, plus their siblings and parents) signed up for the duty as a team and are scheduled to attend to it every three weeks. As the saying goes, “many hands make light work,” and in our case there were twelve pairs. We were done dusting, polishing, disinfecting, emptying trash cans, and vacuuming in under two hours.

My mom caught a tawny-haired monkey in the sanctuary. She held him upside down and tickled him, and he squealed, wiggled, and reddened. When she released him, he collapsed in exhaustion. Miriam was so overcome with laughter over her younger brother’s plight that she flopped onto the floor, too.

I had a troop of helpers follow me downstairs on my mission to swab the Sunday school tables. Miriam, Matteo, Charis, and I raced to see who would finish first. We had a nice, long conversation in the rear classroom as the kids doodled on the blackboard and challenged me to guess what they’d drawn. Miriam and Matteo described the costumes they’d donned for AWANA night, Matteo shared the lesson he’d learned in Sunday school, and Charis contributed her spunk. She observed that I was wearing a ‘jacket’ (actually, a cardigan sweater, but she was close enough) and a new shirt and told me so. We were absent for such a lengthy period that Samuel snuck down to spy on us, but he scampered off before I could nab him.

The weather was pleasant—much too pleasant to be cooped up indoors. We hauled the picnic table from the backyard of the parsonage to the south side of the church, where we’d be sheltered from the wind gusts, and established a game of Apples to Apples. We played the customized version that Joshua invented:

Each player is dealt ten green apple cards. The remaining stack of green apple cards is placed on the table; the red apple cards are unneeded and kept in the box.

The judge selects a fellow player to be the victim. Everyone plucks a card from their hand that they think delineates that person’s personality, appearance, traits, etc. and flings it onto the table. The victim himself/herself must participate also. The players then replenish their hands with a new card from the deck.

The judge decides which card best befits the victim and awards it to the donor. The first player to accumulate five green apple cards wins.

Poor Charles. We all kinda ganged up and picked on him. I think we were too harsh.

Daniel just sat and scrutinized us from his vantage point in a wheelbarrow. Joshua reached for the handles and raised the cockpit, dumping Daniel onto the ground. Daniel retaliated by throwing leaves on Joshua.

I forgot that the backside of my glasses is zebra-striped. I failed an impromptu game of Eye Spy because Mariah took advantage of my momentary brain lapse.

Ema and I were attacked by spiders. Joshua rescued me. Nobody rescued Ema, but Mariah warned her that a tiny black creature was crawling across her shoulder. It’s that time of season… Ugh.

According to Joshua, I turned two million years old on my last birthday.

Charles and Joshua did a presentation on bows and arrows. It was very educational.

My sister and I departed earlier than any of us anticipated—before sunset, in fact. We were despondent. We’d had mammoth plans for that evening. We were going to circumvent the churchyard uttering occasional shrieks, hurling light-up balls at each other, and scuttling into the shadows (mere constituents of Bump in the Night, I assure you). Daniel was the bearer of the bad tidings.

Disclaimer: The adjective ‘small’ at the top of this post is obviously a misprint—or a misconception.

Coke Fountains

2011-11-16T16:50:00.000-06:00

Monday Funnies

2011-11-14T11:30:00.000-06:00

Q: Why may carpenters reasonably believe there is no such thing as stone?

A: Because they never saw it.

Q: What is that which is put on the table and cut, but never eaten?
A: A pack of cards.

Q: What lives upon its own substance and dies when it has devoured itself?
A: A candle.

Q: What thing is lower with a head than without one?
A: A pillow.

Q: What is that from which you may take away the whole and yet there will be some remaining?

A: The word 'wholesome.'

Q: If all the seas were dried up, what would everybody say?
A: "We haven't a notion." (an ocean)

Q: If a man who is carrying a dozen glass lamps drops one, what does he become?
A: A lamp lighter.

Q: What four letters would frighten a thief?
A: O-I-C-U.

Q: Why is a five dollar bill much more profitable than five silver dollars?

A: Because when you put it in your pocket you double it, and when you take it out you will find it in-creases.

Q: Which is the smallest bridge in the world?
A: The bridge of your nose.

Poems

2011-11-13T19:05:00.009-06:00

Well, I suppose I should introduce myself through one of my main occupations—poetry (when I'm not cooking, watching children, doing schoolwork, chores, or sleeping :).

Dear God

Dear God I thank Thee for this day,

To give You glory with.

As birds and trees

And rocks and seas

All shout Your bountiful.

Dear God I ask Thee for Thy grace

Which Thou such often show.

And for Thy mercy showered on us-

Softly as the snow.

Well, that should do for now. Let me know what you think!

Mariah's American Girl Art Gallery

2011-11-12T12:20:00.000-06:00

Here are some of the best drawings I've done of AG magazine covers, dolls, illustrations, etc.

Flopsy! }:-( }:-(

2011-11-11T17:51:00.021-06:00

Well, our dear feline is again responsible for an unfortunate happening. We (my dad, Charles, and I), were planning on going hunting this weekend. It would have been our first hunt, and we were looking forward to it. We had our tent, bows, sleeping bags, and most everything pretty much ready to go (except a few unimportant items like our hunting licenses, tags, etc.) and were just needing some final touches on some things.

Enter Flopsy, the beloved kitty.

My dad came down with food poisoning three days before our planned departure date. Before we knew what it was, we were hoping that he would get better before we left, but that did not happen. So Thursday morning he was in the doctor's office and was diagnosed with food poisoning. And it was such (also due to the medicine he was prescribed) that we were made to cancel our plans for that weekend (except for a few on Saturday, but he should be well enough by then). As it is, in fact, he says that he is feeling a little better now.

So, you wonder, what became of Flopsy? After all, this is really quite something that she has afflicted us with.

As some of you may know, when she makes up her mind to do something distasteful to us (and follows through with it), we thank her with a kick. (Well, we talk about kicking her. I don't think anybody actually has yet. Yet... ) This time we deemed her actions bad enough that we decided to hire a professional. Yes, that's right, a professional Flopsy kicker. We captured one photograph, which I will share with you.

Mwaaaaah!!!

2011-11-09T14:56:00.003-06:00

I caught Matteo in the act. This is his preferred pastime.

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 1

2011-11-09T14:22:00.001-06:00

A small, randomized sampling of our Sunday(e?)s, with a dollop of whip cream and a Banana point of view.

Joshua’s throat was bothering him, but he bravely attended worship services anyway. My mom picked out his tie, which Charles claimed didn’t match.

A newcomer visited. I hope the message settled into his heart and that he’ll be back!

We learned that Pastor won’t be preaching next week; a guest speaker will be subbing on harvest day. I could just cry.

Our music leader paused in the middle of Isn’t the Love of Jesus Something Wonderful to rally the congregation to crank up their singing.

Us kids (C, J, E, D, S, and M & M—plus B, who is actually an adult) tromped downstairs to perform our usual ritual around noon’ish, although the stragglers (I won’t say who) didn’t arrive until twenty minutes later. Charles was present, but Daniel was absent. He spied on us from the windows. Ema eventually closed the curtains.

We played: A to Z Junior, Uno, and Scattergories. Ema and Mariah were crowned the victors at A to Z, Charles was the Uno champion, and we never have determined the winner of Scattergories because we always neglect to calculate each participant’s score.

Matteo was overeager to show me a drawing and shoved it in my face, but I didn’t mind. I’m glad the little fellow converses with me now.

Charles wants a ~~tea~~ server for Christmas.

Mariah informed us that peppermint is the holiday treat that best represents her, according to a quiz she recently took. (She despises mint.)

The adults starved us by talking too long…and vetoing Joshua’s suggestion to order pizza.

There was a spider in the corner of the room. Somebody needs to squish it.

Race Cats

2011-11-09T13:38:00.000-06:00

Kiflis

2011-11-08T13:06:00.001-06:00

This is a delicious pastry recipe my mom and I like to make. I got it from an American Girl book I read several years ago. We usually double it since it gets ate up so fast!

1 cup butter, softened

1 cup cream cheese

Pinch of salt

1 tablespoon sour cream

2 cups flour

Jam

Cream together the butter, cream cheese, salt, and sour cream. Stir in flour. Knead the dough with your hands till smooth. Put it in the refrigerator for about 3 hours.

Place the chilly dough on a floured countertop. Roll the dough flat with a rolling pin. Then use a table knife to cut the dough into 3-inch squares. Spread the jam of your choice in the middle of each square. Flip one of its corners to its opposite corner (making a triangle) and press them together until they are firmly closed.

Gently place the kiflis on a cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes.

I hope you enjoy them!

2011-11-07T21:54:00.003-06:00

Well, tonight I sit here writing on this blank sheet of white pixels on a CRT computer monitor. This weekend we are hoping to go hunting to kill some animal. I am partly writing here because I want to try it out, but I am about to hit the keyboard with my forehead (let the reader understand), so more tomorrow or someday.

Thank You.

Hello? Hello?

2011-11-05T18:07:00.011-05:00

Well, we'll see how this works. My companions still have to try out their blogging skills, except for one. So I will be the second to submit a post for your viewing.

I hope this blog will be one worth following. Posts should be interesting, encouraging, and Christ-honoring. New ideas can be introduced. Scripture can be discussed. Recipes, events, pictures, stories, poems, thoughts, accounts of our times together, and who knows what more can be shared? In years to come won't it be wonderful to come back and view the stories of days gone by?

Well, that's all I have to say for now. More posts should be looked forward to, hopefully in the not-so-distant future.

Testing, one, two, three…bonk. Screech!

2011-11-04T13:53:00.001-05:00

Ouch. Sorry about that, folks. I’m a newbie to the blogosphere and not quite accustomed to the system. But I won’t be for long.

The rest of the team (our computer mastermind, the gentleman, sunshine, gabby, etc.) ought to be joining me shortly. Stay tuned, for we intend to post an assortment of items for your enjoyment and edification.

“Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord” (1 Peter 1:2).

A Threefold Cord

Spurgeon on the conformity to the World

The Observer

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.Romans 8:28

The Observer

Christendom

According to...

Story of the Week: Who Done It?

Southwest Roll-ups

Laugh Out Loud

Taco Spaghetti

HTML

Another Story

Poem-3

The Favorite Word

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 6

Story of the Week: Alone in the Woods, Part 2

I hope to crack you up!

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 5

Story of the Week: Alone in the Woods, Part 1

Monday Funnies

Brianna's Favorite Story :p

Did You Know?

Out With the Old and In With the New

My Turn :-) "The Events of 2011" by Charles

Baked Oatmeal

Monday Joke

’11 Highlights

3rd Part to the Story

Three Days Later

The Authors of a Threefold Cord

Christmas Story

Did I mention that we are back from KC?

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Special Pictorial Edition, vol. 1 no. 2

Two Days Late

Gone in Ten Seconds

On our way to Kansas City, MO

The Eleven Hours of Christmas

Troubleshooting

Christmas

HTML...hello!

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Special Pictorial Edition, vol. 1 no. 1

Christmas Jokes

Today

My Door Post

Grace Community Church Christmas Concert

My Pencil Drawings

The Sunrise After the Nightmare

Pencil Sketches

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 4

Season's Cheer

A Preview

Sour Cream Cut-outs

White stuff...?

Small Gestures Can Have a HUGE Impact

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

Church decorating

Unsaid

Poem number 2

Church Decorating—plus a shocking discovery

Snack Time

More pictures

Another blog

The Evergreen Scavengers

Deer tonight!!!

Forever Filling Pancakes

Who Will Be Next?

Monday Funnies

I'm AWOL

Christmas Gift Idea

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree!

Hunting the Boring Part

Hunting Adventure

Thanksgiving Day

May We Be Truly Thankful...

Hunting cont...

The Sunday Morning Chronicle: Late Edition, vol. 1 no. 3

Hunting

Fa-la-lah!

A Tribute

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
Romans 8:28