Friday, August 26, 2011

I Can Do All Things Through Christ Who Strengthens Me

Physically and emotionally exhausted, I continued to pick up broken glass and pieces of shingles from 87-year-old Virginia Bennett's yard.

She had been without a working toilet for three weeks and was waiting for a plumber when we knocked on her door.  Flustered by the interruption, she seemed hard pressed to accept our offer to help.  She had just received her noon meal from Meals on Wheels and wanted to finish it before it got cold, she knew a plumber was coming and now strangers were offering assistance.

Her home had received minor damage; her main concern was her small yard.  Three weeks had passed since the tornado, no one had been by to cut the grass since then.  She had young boys who were willing to cut the grass, but she was afraid they would be hurt by flying debris.

When asked for a rake, she couldn't remember if she had one; a member of our team was able to borrow two rakes from a neighbor and we began picking through the overgrown lawn.  Members of our team worked in her small front yard picking up debris and sweeping the sidewalk while others worked in the back and side yards.

When we felt we had done all we could, we were greeted by Virginia who wanted to offer us drinks and snacks.  She apologized for not having more, but insisted we take two small packages of pretzels.  As several of us sat on coolers on her front porch (her refrigerator had ceased working) she thanked us repeatedly for our efforts and for the efforts of all the volunteers who had helped her and her hometown.

After several hours in the sun, I was tired and moving slowly.  When we got back to the church, I had decided to lie down for a couple of hours before finding more work.  I went upstairs, came back down to tell the girls where I would be, and found Allyson doodling an a piece of paper.


I started back up the stairs and before I made it to the air mattress, I turned around and walked back down the stairs.  There was so much to do, and we had so little time left.  I went out to the distribution tent to offer my assistance.  Time passed quickly as I talked with people, helped them find food and toiletry items and then prayed with them.

 Before we left Joplin, several of us talked about what had taken place.  We talked about the devastation and the people who had poured their hearts out to us.  When one of our church members cried and said she didn't want to go home because there was still so much to do, Pastor Chris gently reminded her that one person can make a difference, but one person can not do everything that needs to be done.

Tonight, I was thinking about how I felt when we first adopted the girls.  I would rock them after hearing them cry out in their sleep, ("No!" "Don't!" and "Stop!" were common cries) and then I would cry realizing that while I was making a difference in the lives of two, there were so many children who were in abusive situations who wouldn't be spared a life of pain.  The weight of those thoughts wore me down.  At some point, it became clear to me that God had sent the girls to us.  And, it became clear that He wasn't asking me to save the world, one child at a time.  I was being asked to do the best I could with these two little girls, so that perhaps one day they could go out into the world and each could save two more.

I don't know what will happen, I don't know how God's Kingdom will be affected by the lives of Allyson and Kayleigh, but I do know that lives will be changed because of them.

In Joplin, we all experienced the need to do more.  My hope is that each and every volunteer will come to the realization that their actions will make a difference.  They have played an important role in furthering God's Kingdom and when they leave Joplin, or any other mission field, to come home, they can rest knowing they have done what they were called to do, and others will follow their lead.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Don't Chase Them Away

Have you ever looked around on Sunday morning and realized that a lot of teenagers are no longer attending church with their parents?  If you haven't, take a few minutes and see if a few names don't come to mind.

My girls have asked me on several occasions why certain parents don't make their children come to church.  Specifically, teen-aged children.  To them, it was a matter of discipline: "You live in my house, you follow my rules."  I wonder...

We've all heard it said that Christians drive more people away from the church, and God, than Satan does.  I've known that to be true for years.  My father was a perfect example.  Family members were unable to let go of the mistakes he had made as a teen.  These were "good Christian people" who had leadership roles in the church.  Yet, they showed no understanding of grace and mercy.  Yes, they believed the Bible to be God-inspired, infallible, and a guide to life.  BUT, they had a problem applying the truths from God's word.

My dad knew scripture and would bitterly quote it when referring to them.  "Judge not, lest ye be judged," comes to mind, as does "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."

The idea that "we ALL have sinned and fall short" was always present as I was growing up.  It saddened me to know that the same people who were winning souls for Christ, were the very same people who could not accept those souls within the church.  I often wondered if witnessing to people had become an equivalent to the gunslinger's notch on the belt.  

How often do we love people to Christ only to dump them after a few weeks?  I've seen this over and over again as those new in Christ do not change their appearance (personal grooming habits), wardrobe, vocabulary (or some other glaring imperfection) fast enough to suit the mature Christians within the congregation.

None of us want to be judged, and yet, we are quick to pass judgment on others.  As adults, we know that we shouldn't jump to conclusions.  I remember being told as a child, "Don't judge a book by it's cover."  Perhaps you remember this one, "Don't judge someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes."

The next time I see teenagers talking during worship, I will smile and raise my finger to my lips to "hush" them and remind myself that I'd rather see them whispering in church than yelling in the streets.  The next time I see a boy with jeans that are dangerously close to falling off, or a girl with a top that exposes too much skin, I will try to remember that Jesus didn't shy away from the woman at the well.

I want to be more tolerant, how about you?



Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Raising Girls in a Narcisstic Culture

Raising teenagers has never been easy.  As hormones take over our sweet children, they become uncharacteristically moody and we must wait until their early twenties for them to be real  people capable of carrying on a conversation without heavy sighing and rolling their eyes.

Today's teenage girls are inundated with images that have the potential to destroy their self-esteem.  Pop stars in barely there outfits, teen television personalities flaunting their sexuality and in some cases, their parents are not only aware of the behavior, they are encouraging it!

Each new generation of parents worry about what their children are going to be faced with as they enter middle and high school.  "It's a lot worse now than it was when we were teenagers," is a common remark.  So is, "Kids today face so much more pressure and are exposed to so much more than we were at their age."  

I am certainly not discounting these concerns, but I am wondering if we should spend more time preparing our children and less time lamenting?

I have been talking to my girls for a couple of years about making a "husband list."  At fourteen, they are beginning to see the seriousness of issue.  "He has to be taller than me," is no longer on the list, neither is "He has to be cute."  So, what should be on the list?

We started with Job 31:4-30 and talked about personal qualities that were non-negotiable:

1. He must be a Christian who lives his faith, he has to "walk the walk, not just talk the talk."
2. He must be compassionate.
3. He must be generous.
4. He must be respectful of me and my family and friends.  
5. He must love me for me, not for who he thinks I will be.
6. He must bring my mother pink roses and banana cream pie.

Okay, that last one didn't make the list, but the first five are set in stone.  My hope would be that every young girl creates a husband list and starts with our list.  My daughters have each added to their initial list based on their personalities.  For example, one girl wants a man who likes horses, both girls want a man who likes music.

My frustration with my daughters and other girls their age is with their perceived need for a male counterpart.  My girls aren't old enough to date, but they still feel the need to have a boyfriend in order to fit in with other teens.  They feel lonely if they aren't in a relationship.  Why is that?

Have you ever watched television?  Find a show featuring teenagers that doesn't portray the unattached teen as a loser.   And of course, there are other pressures.  Girls feel the pressure to be popular, to be thin, to do well in school...  Again, these pressures come from television and other sources.

Deep within each of us, God has created a desire to be the best person we can possibly be.  The problem is, too often young women look to popular culture to define what best is.  The Bible clearly defines best in Proverbs 31: 10-31.

My challenge to you is this:  If you haven't talked with your daughter about what to look for in a husband, do it now.  Do it before she finds herself in a troublesome relationship.  I honestly believe the divorce rate could be drastically reduced if we talked with our daughters about choosing a godly man while they were young.  If you wait until they are actually dating, you may find yourself fighting a much harder battle.

How do you initiate the conversation with your daughter if she's not yet old enough to date?
How do you initiate the conversation with your daughter is she's already dating?

I will do my best to answer those questions in a future blog.  If you would like to see additional mother/daughter issues addressed, please comment below.  I'm wondering if you'd like to discuss how to prepare your daughter for puberty and how to talk with your daughter about intimacy.  

Blessings to you and yours,
Debbie

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Why Blog?

You may have heard it said that there are no new plots.  If I want to write a short story or a novel, I want my material to be fresh, unique.  What can I write about?

1.  Rich boy meets poor girl, parents dis- approve, but they conquer all in the name of love.
2.  Rich girl meets poor boy, parents dis- approve, but they conquer all in the name of love.

3.  Poor boy meets poor girl, they discover their love is stronger than any financial/medical/family crisis.
4.  Poor boy/girl befriends a lonely, older man/woman and receives a large inheritance in return.

Do you see where I'm headed with this?  It's been done before.  So, why should I write?  If I can't come up with an original plot why bother?

And, what about blogging?  What could I possibly blog about that hasn't been covered ad nauseam?  Family issues?  Parenting issues?  Faith issues?  Dealing with a chronic illness?  

Again, it's all been done before.  So, why blog?

I asked myself that very question when it was suggested I start a blog.  I came up with these reasons, and a few questions:

1.  I can write from a fresh perspective because my life's experiences are unique to me and while my potential readers will not have had the same experiences, they  may relate more closely to what I am saying than they would to someone else.  Does that mean my readers will all be middle-class farm wives living in the Midwest?

2.  Writing is therapeutic for me.  I find it easy to spill my heart onto paper, or the computer screen.  My hope is that if writing is therapeutic for me, reading what I've written will be therapeutic for others. Does that mean every blog should reflect my soul-searching?

3.  I love people.  Ask my family.  There are no strangers, just friends I haven't met, yet.  I can't stay in touch with everyone I meet, so I use blogging to keep everyone up to date.  Does that mean I have to include details on a daily basis?

I started blogging in December of 2010.  I truly didn't know what I was doing.  In July of 2010, I didn't even know what blogging was!  I wanted to give it a try, and wrote a few entries.  Christmas celebrations and family gatherings distracted me and I didn't write consistently, though I wanted to.  January brought the news we had dreaded - my mother-in-law's cancer was growing.  

I wrote as often as I could, sometimes I was just too weary to write.  When I did write, I was encouraged by my followers' feedback.  As they would cheer me on, I was motivated to write.  I can name four followers who told me (in person) that they were disappointed when I didn't blog for a few days, as they enjoyed "chatting" with me.

And, as for the questions I asked myself...
1.  No, my readers aren't all middle-class farm wives living in the Midwest.  In fact, very few are.
2.  I am still trying to develop a pattern for the content I want to cover, but it is important to me to be able to blog about humorous events, not just the events that shake me to the core.
3.  I try to write conversationally.  I picture my readers in my living room enjoying a piece of homemade pie and an ice cold drink.  I may not "hear" what my readers have to say, but I write as if I know what they want to ask. People rarely ask about the little stuff: what you had to eat, how well you slept, etc.  so, I'm not going to include the boring details.

How long will I continue to blog?  I'm not sure.  Probably as long as people let me know they are encouraged, amused, or motivated by my postings. 

Saturday, May 14, 2011

A Few Words About My Mother-In-Law

No one ever called Wanda Fuhrman lazy. 

A few weeks ago, our son, Ross and his wife, Jennie, were making improve- ments to their new house.  I had been helping as much as I could, and at least once each day I would describe to Wanda the progress that had been made.  Each day, her response was the same, "I wish I could help.  You know, I love to paint.  And I'd love to help them with the clean-up."


It soon became apparent that I needed to be with Wanda more than I needed to help them.  Just before I started staying with her full-time, I went over to help.  Wanda didn't have the strength or the stamina to help with the remodelling, but she did find a way to contribute.  She prepared a meal for 12.  If you knew her, you know she didn't bring sandwiches and chips.  It was a meal.  Not only did she bring food, and a fruit drink she'd made herself, she brought plates, flatware and glasses.  She'd thought of everything we'd need.  This was to be the last meal she prepared. 

When your birthday came around, you were going to get something from Wanda's oven.  Accomplishments and milestones were celebrated with food from her oven, and she expressed her sympathy with food from her oven.  Just a few weeks ago, while she was still taking chemotherapy, she made cinnamon rolls from scratch for a friend's grieving family. 

Being tired and feeling sick were no excuse in her book.  There was work to be done and she was the woman for the job, right up until three weeks ago.

My first memory of the woman who would later become my mother-in-law is still vivid.  At eight years old, I would run to the edge of our front yard to wave at the woman with the red bandana wrapped around her hair as she drove past in a grain truck.  Numerous grain trucks drove past our house during harvest, but I only ran to the road for one.  The one being driven by a woman. 

I, like many of you, was impressed by her.  Wanda Fuhrman was an accomplished seamstress, she kept an immaculate house, she tended her lawn and garden with extraordinary results.  She loved to send cards and prepare food for others. 

I had told Wanda she was the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman.  As I read the scripture to her, I remembered a time when we were shopping and she took me into an expensive ladies clothing store.  My eyes were immediately drawn to an ivory wool jacket. While I had it on, she wrote notes on a small piece of paper.  Within a week, she presented me with a similar jacket she had made.  She loved to sew and she was masterful.

We did a lot of reminscing in the last few months.  As I took her to chemotherapy treatments and appointments for blood work, she  would tell me stories from her past.  Some were new, and others I had heard before.

Like the time she mailed a box of mashed potatoes to her Aunt Elsie. It was Thanksgiving 1953 and this was the first year Wanda had hosted the families.  And not just immediate family.  Grandma Strong's sisters were there with their families.  When Aunt Elsie questioned the amount of potatoes Wanda had prepared, Wanda assured Aunt Elsie that there would be enough.  Aunt Elsie was certain they would run out of potatoes and wanted to quickly prepare more.  Wanda insisted there would be enough, that she knew in advance how many people were coming and she had prepared with that number in mind.

At the end of the day, there were potatoes left over.  Though she never elaborated, I'm sure Earl instigated the idea of mailing the leftovers to Aunt Elsie.  But, he didn't mail them.  Wanda was the one who giggled in delight as she packed them for shipping.  Years later, Aunt Elsie would laugh and tell her version of the story. Not everyone saw Wanda's onery streak, but it was there.

She was also strong-willed.  If she wanted to get something done, nothing was going to stop her.  Not even cancer. 

I've always loved her angel food cake, as one of the grandchildren said, "It's what she's famous for." I've never tasted angel food cake like hers, it almost melts in your mouth. After waiting almost thirty years, she finally gave me the recipe.  I told her I wanted to practice until I was confident I could make the cake without her assistance.  Two weeks ago, she was ready to teach me the secrets. 

As she drifted off to sleep, I decided to make the cake myself.  I was following the recipe, when suddenly, out of nowhere, she appeared!  She was almost frantic as she said, "Why'd you start without me?  You can't do it that way!  You have to sift the flour and sugar first!"  As she was talking she flung her walker out of the way, tipping it over.  I began to laugh as she quickly rattled off instructions and reached around me to get what was needed.  We worked together to salvage the batter.  I was worried that I had ruined the cake, but it turned out perfectly. I rewrote the instructions so that the steps were listed in correct order.  I don't know if I'll always remember everything she told me,  but the image of her shoving that walker out of her way and gently pushing me aside will stay with me forever. 

Her tumor advanced at a terrifying pace.  While she wasn't able to do as much as she would have liked on Easter weekend, she did enjoy having family with her.  Marlin told her repeatedly to, "Sit down and rest."  The idea of sitting and watching everyone else do the work was unimaginable to her.  So, she did as much as her body would allow. 

No one will ever remember Wanda Fuhrman as lazy.



I asked God to heal her, and he said, "not yet."  I asked God to keep her free from pain, and he said, "not yet."  I asked God to take her home, and he said, "yes, that I will do."

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Nothing New Under the Sun

Ecclesiastes 1:9-10 (New King James version)

That which has been is what will be,
That which is done is what will be done,
And there is nothing new under the sun.
Is there anything of which it may be said,
“See, this is new”?
It has already been in ancient times before us.

This scripture came to mind as I introduced the girls to a new chapter in their world history book.  The author of the textbook suggested that people have always faced the same problems.  People have found it necessary to find sources for food and shelter.  People have found it necessary to develop social and political organizations as their populations grew and they have found religious expression a necessity.

Until this past week, the girls have found history lessons to be laborious.  Suddenly, their opinions have changed. A lively discussion about how different generations have approached the same basic problems opened their eyes to the meaning behind the statement, "history repeats itself."  Until last week, they thought that statement only applied to clothing styles.

Coincidentally, I remembered reading an online discussion about Ecclesiastes 1:9.  Some of the comments were from people who misinterpreted the scripture and were using those misinterpretations to attack those of us who believe the Holy Bible to be divinely inspired.  I have been unable to find the comment thread again, but one comment went something like this: "Nothing new?  Are you serious?  We can invent nothing new because everything has already been invented?  So, we didn't invent the internet, it was already invented?  Where has it been?  What kind of idiot would believe this stuff:"

Isn't it interesting how people can take a scripture out of context to support their misguided opinions, and yet so quickly ignore scripture when it doesn't?

These two verses speak of universal truths.  All emotions, while new to us, have been experienced by others.  And, human behavior is fairly predictable.

As we deal with sickness and death, we can be assured that we are not the first to grieve.  Every generation before us has dealt with the loss of loved ones.  As we worry about rising cost of food, we can be assured ours is not the first generation, nor will it be the last, to worry about how to provide for the next meal. The same goes for shelter.  Each generation has searched for a form of shelter that will satisfy their needs and then begins searching for a better form of shelter as they become aware of the shelters others are utilizing.

The Ten Commandments address these universal truths regarding emotion and human behavior. 

1.  You shall have no other gods before me.
2.  You shall not make for yourself an idol...
3.  You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
4.  Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.
5.  Honor your father and your mother.
6.  You shall not murder. 
7. You shall not commit adultery.
8.  You shall not steal.
9.  You shall not lie.
10. You shall not covet...anything that belongs to your neighbor.

And yet, we must be reminded again and again.  In our quest for a better life, we get wrapped up in ourselves and our daily struggles without thinking about what we have done or thinking about what we know to be true.

We've all heard the saying "No one should remember you by how many hours you spent at work, they should remember you by how many hours you spent with family and friends."  Or course, we have to work, that's not the point.  The point is this: when your day is done are you satisfied that your family was well cared for, and have they felt your love?

Will you attend a loved one's funeral and wish you'd spent more time with them?  Will you wish you hadn't left words unsaid?  If so, you wouldn't be the first, nor would you be the last. But, while you have the chance, tell someone you love them.  Skip the mindless programs on television and visit someone you haven't seen in a while. 

The first chapter of Ecclesiastes is a reminder to all of us that life is happening right now and we aren't always going to like how it plays out.  Everything we feel, was felt thousands of years ago.  And while we cannot add a day to our lives through worry,  we can take a few seconds throughout our days to acknowledge the possibility that what we are doing may, or may not, be the best way to express our love.

A wise person told me on more than one occasion: "You can always make more money, but you can't make more time."  She was right.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Thou Shalt Not Waste

I have been blessed by the grandmothers in my life, mine and Marlin's.  When we got married, we had three grandmothers and three grandfathers present.  Prior to our marriage, I had spent time with two great-grandmothers and my paternal grandmother.  Each of these women have played a role in creating the woman I am today. 

Now that I am a grandmother, I see the world a little differently.  Minor mishaps that would have upset me when caused by my children, no longer upset me.  More than once I have heard my children say, "Wow!  I'd have been in big trouble if I'd done that when I was little!"

And they are right.  Now that I am older (and most certainly wiser), I understand that some things are not worth getting upset about.  For example, if my kids asked for ice cream for breakfast, I would have refused.  And if my precious grandchildren ask?  Well, ice cream is a dairy product.  Of course, I'm going to let them have ice cream, I'm not going to deny them food from one of the four basic food groups. (Hopefully, their parents aren't reading this entry!)

In the last few weeks, Wanda (my mother-in-law) and I have been reminiscing about family members who are no longer living.  We have laughed and cried as one of us and then the other would recount a story from days gone by.  Most of the stories are about "Grandma Fritz."  (Marlin's paternal grandfather's nickname was "Fritz".)  Grandma loved being called "Grandma Fritz."

Actually, Grandma Fritz loved almost everything and certainly everyone.  Even though it's been over twenty years, I can still hear her laugh.  She loved jokes and while she could rarely tell a joke in it's entirety, she loved to try.  We'd always end up laughing with her as she fussed over her inability to remember an important element of the joke.

Grandma Fritz loved to cook.  She was a great cook, but I learned very early in our courtship, not to sit by her at mealtime.  The problem?  No matter how much food you put on your plate, she didn't think it was enough and when she was supposed to dishing up food for her own plate, she'd add food to yours! 

She was used to cooking large meals, she'd cooked for harvest crews in the past.  She also knew how to get a meal ready for company on a moment's notice.  I was always amazed at how little was left over at the end of a meal.  But, if there was any food left over, it was saved for another meal.  If the remaining portion was very small, someone  would be coerced into eating it, but if there was no one willing to eat the last few green beans or the last chicken breast, it would be wrapped up and saved for Grandpa Fritz's next meal.

Wrapping up leftovers meant reaching into the drawer and removing a piece of previously used aluminum foil.  She kept several pieces in the drawer and knew how much could be covered with each one.  She'd pull out the necessary piece of aluminum foil and smooth it out before placing it over the food.  When she prepared those leftovers, she'd wash the aluminum foil, fold it, and place it back in the drawer.

Nothing was wasted.  Grandpa and Grandma had lived through the Great Depression and made every penny count.  Nothing was thrown away if it could be reused or repurposed.  Clothes were not thrown out because they were out of style or because they had a stain or flaw.  (Family would cringe knowing they could afford better, but refused.  I still remember Grandpa's dark brown polyester pants - decorated with snags - and his lavendar shirt splattered with stains.)

Grandma Fritz loved to feed Marlin and his cousin, Brian, when they were working at Grandpa Fritz's farm.  When I could, I would join them as the food was always delicious.  For almost thirty years, our favorite story about Grandma Fritz has been about a time I was not present, but I certainly wish I had been!

After working hard all morning, the guys came in for dinner (the noon meal, I have been trained to refer to it as dinner and not lunch) and they were hungry.  As they washed up, Grandma described the meal she had prepared.  Marlin and Brian were most anxious for dessert - Grandma had made a lemon meringue pie just for them!  Grandma's meringue was always blue ribbon worthy.

Grandpa and Grandma joked and visited with Marlin and Brian during the meal. Then, Grandma went to the back porch where she had left the pie to cool.  What happened next has been told and retold.

Marlin and Brian heard their grandmother swear for the first and only time.  Alarmed by her tone and her choice of words, they didn't know whether to run to her or to stay put.  They chose the later.  Soon, Grandma came into the kitchen verbally berating a certain outdoor cat who had apparently entered the kitchen and then left before detection.

Grandma placed the lemon pie, no longer a lemon meringue pie, on the counter and began to cut generous slices for each of them.  Quickly, Marlin and Brian decided they were no longer hungry.  And, they were quite certain they must return to the field immediately!  Before Grandma could put their pie pieces on a dessert plate, they were gone!

For years, we have laughed about that story and about how determined Grandma was to avoid wasting the pie.  No one knows for sure, but we all assume that Grandma Fritz served the pie to Grandpa Fritz at every meal until the pie was gone.

I"m not sure about Brian, but Marlin is no longer fond of  lemon meringue pie! 

Grandma and Grandpa Fritz, and most of their generation, had eleven commandments, not ten.  The eleventh being: "Thou Shalt Not Waste Food."  They knew what it was like to do without food, without gas, without tires.  They understood rationing in ways we don't and can't comprehend.  Their generation was determined to be ready if another "Great Depression" occurred.

What about us?  The Bible doesn't address wastefulness directly.  There certainly isn't an eleventh commandment that didn't make the cut.  But, if you read the Bible you know that God is disappointed in us each time we are wasteful.  And not just with food.  What about our talents?  our time?  our money/resources,  water, electricity?

God has blessed us and we tend to take those blessings for granted.  I'm guilty, and I'm pretty sure you are, too.  We laugh as we recall our parents telling us not to waste food, "You better eat that.  There are starving children in China (or Africa) who would love to have that food!"

As adults, we shouldn't laugh.  We should ask ourselves why being a better steward is not a priority. 

Blog Followers in the Month of May! INTERNATIONAL FOLLWERS, TOO


I have a special gift for my blog followers!  As I have done before, I will draw a name from those who have commented on my blog. 

Each time you comment on a blog, your name goes into a drawing.  You can comment on any of the blog entries, even the very first.

In addition, international followers can enter a second drawing by telling me how you found my blog.  Just include the information in a comment, and you are entered!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Stewardship: Part I "Nothin' Says Lovin' Like Somethin' From the Oven"

I have been preparing a workshop for young couple on stewardship, after realizing how few young people know how to cook.  Sure, they can make macaroni and cheese from a box, or drop ramen noodles into boiling water, and they can make sandwiches, BUT very few know how to prepare a meal beyond removing the contents from a fast food restaurant's sack and setting it on the table.

I know of a woman in town who built a new house and wanted to omit the kitchen!  She didn't cook and didn't want to "waste" the floor space.  All she needed (in her opinion) was a sink, a refrigerator and a microwave.  Her family ate cold cereal, sandwiches or take-out.  She simply didn't cook, and neither did her husband.  Is it any wonder her son loved to come to our family dinners?   As a side note: her contractor convinced her to include a kitchen because he realized no one would buy a house without a kitchen! So, I guess it's not just young people who don't know how to cook. 

As I've mentioned before, I really didn't know how to cook before Marlin and I got married.  I had a few simple recipes I could follow, but preparing an entire meal was beyond me.  We did not eat out, however.  I learned to cook.  Eating out was not handy as we live ten miles from town, and it was expensive.  Eating out was a special treat and we indulged ourselves once or twice a month.  I know of several families who eat out more than they eat in!

But, what about young people?  Why don't they know how to cook?  Their parents aren't teaching them and neither are the schools.  When I was in school, we had Home Economics classes beginning in seventh or eighth grade.  Truth be told, I really didn't learn how to cook there.  I got some exposure to cooking, but most of the time we messed around.  I remember baking with a group of three other students.  We were to prepare a cake - from a mix - and divide the steps so everyone was participating.  One of us should have kept track of who was taking care of which step... The cake mix called for 1/3 cup of oil.  Three of us choose to claim that step as ours.  When the cake was finished, we were required to serve it to the class.  As soon as the cake pieces were placed on the paper towels we used instead of plates, the oil soaked the paper towels!  No one would eat the cake - imagine that! - but the teacher made the four of us eat our pieces!  Talk about disgusting.

Home Economics did serve a purpose.  I learned to get all of my ingredients ready before I started preparing a recipe.  I learned how to measure dry and wet ingredients correctly - now I'm not so rigid with the measuring - but it was good to learn the correct way.  I learned that if you don't pay attention, you can add the same ingredient more than once, and that is not a good thing.

I also learned a little about cooking from 4-H when I was in grade school.  I only participated a couple of years in 4-H, but I do remember learning how to crack eggs.  Actually, what I remember is my friend, Penny, dropping an egg on the 4-H leader's kitchen floor.  No big deal, right?  It happens from time to time to everyone.  The dropping of the egg didn't leave an impression on me, what left the impression was the leader calling her cat to lick it up!  We didn't have cats in the house, and I knew my mother would not approve!  That being said, I then thought watching an animal lick up food from the kitchen floor was the coolest thing I'd ever seen and I accidentally dropped an egg.  Or was it two?

Anyway, I knew cooking and baking were important skills to have.  My mother didn't want me in the kitchen (in her defense, it was a really small kitchen), so I didn't learn as much as I should have from her.  BUT, she did tell me something before I got married that left an indelible impression: "There are two sure-fire ways to make a man happy, and one of them is cooking."  If you want a happy husband, learn to cook.

Incidentally, I have told several young woman my mother's theory about the two things it takes to make a man happy.  They asked their husbands about the validity of that statement, and have reported back to me.  My mother was right.  Of course, I already knew that.  I've been married almost thirty years!

Actually, cooking and baking are acts of love.  Don't believe me?  Ask the men in your life and the women, because if both of you are working outside the home, both of you need to be sharing in the responsibilities at home.  And, the time you spend together in the kitchen is precious. Rarely, are your kids going to interrupt a conversations in the kitchen to insist you allow them to help!  It's a great time for private conversations and flirting, don't forget the flirting! 

But, my focus is primarily on women.  If you take the time to prepare a meal for your husband, he is going to appreciate not only the time and effort you put into the meal, he's going to appreciate the fact that you can put your money to better use.  Why spend $40 on pizza for the family when you can make it for less than $10?  Why spend $40, or more, at a restaurant?  In the time it takes to drive to the restaurant, wait for a table, wait for someone to take your order, wait for the food, eat and then drive home, you could have prepared a meal and saved yourself $30.  Big deal, right?  You're not going to miss that $30 and it's easy and you're tired at the end of the day.  That thirty dollars you could save represents the house you'd like to buy, but can't because you still don't have enough for the down payment.  That thirty dollars represents a new washing machine or dryer, maybe a new car.  How many times a week do you eat out?  What about eating out during the day, on your lunch hour?  That six or seven dollars you spend, is another thirty or thirty-five dollars a week.

Think about what you want for your family.  Is eating out four times a week more important than a nice family vacation?  Is it more important than a more reliable mode of transportation? 

Good stewardship means managing your finances wisely.  Develop a plan with your spouse and follow through.  Respect the hard work each of you do away from home and use those paychecks wisely by investing in your future - not fast food!

All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty (Proverbs 14:23)

If your group would like an outline of my presentation on stewardship, let me know.  Focusing on three areas of stewardship (time, money and resources), the presentation with leave you with food for thought - and food!  I'd love to come sahre my thoughts and the biblical principles behind them.

Blessings to your and yours,
Debbie

Thursday, April 21, 2011

My Perception of God: From Childhood to Parenthood




As a child, I remember trying to visualize God.  I had seen pictures of Jesus in the New Testament I carried to Sunday School each week, but I wanted to have an image of God.  I came up with an original mental picture.  I visualized a cast iron skillet, a HUGE cast iron skillet, and within that skillet was the world's population.  In my imagination, I saw God watching all of us in the skillet.  Occasionally, he would put a lid on the skillet and walk away to do other things, but he would always come back, remove the lid and begin observing us.  Until recently, I hadn't thought about this image.  Now, I wonder if I had the world's population in the skillet because I needed to believe that God was able to keep up contained.  Or perhaps, I needed to believe that he was able to put a lid on us, so he could take care of his "heavenly" business.  I think that because at the age of eight or nine, I had so little control over my life and the decisions that were made concerning my life, I needed to know that God had everything under control.  That even if he had to walk away for a few minutes, he'd come right back, lift the lid and start tending to us.  I'd seen my mother start a meal in the cast iron skillet, watch the food for awhile and then walk away to take care of something else; she always came back to the skillet before anything burned.  She was seemingly able to take care of all things at all times.  It seems logical to me that this is where my early idea of God's role took root.  I understood him to be omnipresent, even though it would be years before I became familiar with that term.

As a teenager, I saw God as a puppeteer.  He created us and he controlled us.  He knew what we were going to do before we did it.  He manipulated us. How, you ask?  I don't know.  I was a teenager.  We think everyone is trying to manipulate us at that age, don't we?                                                                                    I wanted to be free from the puppeteer's strings.  I wanted to make my own decisions, and I didn't want God to know what I was going to do before I did.  The omniscience of God was not comforting to be, it was disconcerting.  I didn't want my parents, my teachers, or anyone else telling me what to do and I certainly did not want them to say, "I told you so,"  when I made a bad choice. 

As a freshman in college, I began to understand that God was omnipotent.  I also learned that just because God has the ability to do whatever he wills, doesn't mean he will do what I would have him do.  My first experience with the death of a teenager came in my freshman year.  A classmate's Jeep was struck by a drunk driver and as several of us prayed for his healing, we received a call telling us Todd had died at the hospital.  I was angry with God.  If he truly had the ability to do all things, why wouldn't he heal Todd, an innocent victim?  And, if he wouldn't heal Todd, why was I to believe I should bother praying about lesser things?  If I couldn't count on God to listen to my requests and grant them, why bother?  He was going to do, what he was going to do, right?

I don't think I got an accurate picture of God, until I became a parent. 

I learned that I can't always say "yes" to the requests my children make.  Some of those requests could result in harm, even though my children might not see the danger at the time.  I learned that while human behavior is predictable, my children are not always going to listen to my advice. 

I learned that I can't always say "no" to my children.  Sometimes, they have to learn for themselves that the people they have chosen as friends or boy/girl friends are indeed bad choices.  And, as a parent, I learned that while my children might believe that I could be everywhere and see everything (of course, that ends at about age eight), I knew that I could not.

When did I put it all together?  I'm not sure. I know that God has not thrown us into a frying pan to keep us contained and I know that God is not manipulating us like a master puppeteer. What I do know is this: God doesn't walk away from us.  He is present in all situations and while he knows what we are going to do before we do it, he has given us free will - the ability to make wrong choices! 
I am now content in the knowledge that my God is omnipotent, onmiscient and omnipresent.  He's got everything under control, even when we don't believe that could possibly be the case. 

"Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom." Isaiah 40:28


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Here I Am Lord Use Me - But Only Under My Conditions


I have a basic plan in mind as I begin each day.  Most days, that plan is altered, and I'm okay with that.  But, I do like to start with a plan.  Today was no exception.  I had a plan.  The plan was altered, and now so is my immediate future.

I started the day with a quick visit to the doctor, nothing out of the ordinary, a routine visit.  On my way home, I learned I needed to get a prescription from my mother-in-law's oncologist.  The drive is fairly long and as I travelled I began to pray for strength.  As I prayed, I began to outline a presentation for women.  "Here I am God, Use Me." 

The premise would be that we often tell God we are available to do His will, but then we add our own stipulations:

Use me, but not for anything that involves talking to people, because I don't like to talk to strangers.
Use me, but not for anything that involves tools, because I'm not very handy.
Use me, but not for anything that requires me to be punctual, because I have a hard time with schedules.

I think you get the picture.

We want God to use us, but only on our conditions. 

I am guilty of this.  As I was driving, I told God I would do whatever needed to be done for my mother-in-law.  Cooking and cleaning, caring for her physical needs, all were within reason.  But, I did mention a couple of things I did not want to have to face - I was very specific.

As I met with the nurse, she patiently instructed me on medications and dosage, charting pain level, physical care and so on.  Then, she waited until I was looking her in the eye and told me things I had been afraid to ask.  Naturally, the two scenarios I had most feared facing were the two she wanted to prepare me for.  As I sobbed, I stopped for a second and thought, "Yeah, I know - this is irony - and it's not funny."

I don't know why the most gracious woman I've ever met is facing such as aggressive disease.  I don't know why God is asking me to face what I fear most. 

I don't need to know.  I'm content knowing that I can lean on my Heavenly Father.  To some it may not make sense, but I know that He will hold each tear I cry in his hands and use those tears to water a wilting flower just in the nick of time.

If you tell God you want to be used and then add provisionary clauses; He may use the opportunity to teach you a lesson in irony!  I'm going to continue to pray for God's strength and courage to face what lies ahead.  I'm going to make the most of every day.  What about you?

May you seek out God's blessings every day, in every situation.  And remember, His hands are reaching down to lift you up.  Lift your weary head, reach up to Him.  You don't have to bear your burdens alone; His strength will carry you through. 

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Living for the Dash


 (This was my third submission to the Faith Writers weekly contest.  This time I placed second in my category.)

                            "Living the Dash"

It was with a heavy heart I sat down at the dining room table to resume grading papers for my Creative Writing class. I had begun my first year of teaching high school enthusiastically, hoping to change the world one student at a time, hoping to make a difference in the lives of the young people in my realm of influence. Day after day, their attitudes were lackadaisical. More than once a week, I could be found sitting at my desk with hands clasped in front of me as tears ran down my cheeks. I wasn't sure I'd made the right decision, perhaps I should have majored in elementary education.

For this assignment, I had distributed handouts with names, dates and epitaphs from tombstones. Each student was to create a story using the information from one tombstone. Then, I had talked to them about "living the dash" and how your birth date and death date didn't define you.

The first few papers were worthy of saving. For starting fires. I picked up the next paper, written by one of my quiet students. James didn't speak unless spoken to. He was easily lost in the crowded classroom as I tried to maintain order and complete my lesson plan.

"Mrs. Miller, This was a really hard assignment and I know you didn't make it up to hurt anyone's feelings, because I don't think you would ever do that. But it was hard because my uncle and grandmother died in a car accident last summer. You couldn't know about it because you weren't here. I know you wanted us to write about your tombstones, but I want to write about theirs.
 
My uncle was a basketball star. My dad said some of the kids in his school called him the B-Ball god. He loved that. He lived with my grandma and he never had a job for very long, because Dad said he always wanted to be the star. He drank a lot, but mostly he wanted to talk about when he played basketball. When he died not a lot of people came to his visitation. The obituary made him sound like a hero but it didn't talk about anything but when he played ball. Everyone knew he wasn't a hero, he was the town drunk.

My grandma didn't die in the accident like my uncle did. She lived two more days and then she died. Hardly anyone came to her visitation or funeral. She was old and I guess most of her friends were already dead. After the funeral, a lady came up to my mom and asked her if grandma had ever talked about Tommy Harper. Mom said no, and the lady said that when my grandma was young she taught a Sunday School class and Tommy was in the class. Every Sunday, Tommy raised his hand for a prayer request. He wanted his mom and dad to live together again so he could be with them. Each week, the lady said my grandma would pray with Tommy. She said she was Tommy's daughter and she wanted us to know that she had been trying to find my grandma to tell her what happened to Tommy. Tommy led his parents to the Lord (I know you know what that means, because I saw your Bible) and they didn't get a divorce, they started going to church every Sunday with Tommy. Then some of Tommy's relatives got saved. And Tommy's daughter said it was all because of my grandma.

I think my uncle wasted his dash. He thought playing basketball in high school was a really big deal. I hope he's in heaven, but I'm sad that no one will miss him that much. My grandma is in heaven for sure and even though she would never believe it if we told her she had changed a lot of lives, she did. She changed lives for eternity. She didn't waste her dash. I don't want to either."

(I hope you're not mad that I didn't follow directions. I've never had a teacher that made me want to work hard like you do. And I'm not sucking up.)

Closing my eyes, I lifted my face toward heaven, "Thank you, Jesus! For James, for his grandmother and giving me what I need to keep trying."

Monday, March 28, 2011

Be Bold - The Lord Your God Is With You

Last week, I waited in line at a Christian book store and overheard a young woman ask for a job application.  There was nothing remarkable or noteworthy about her appearance or the request.  What was remarkable and noteworthy was the interaction between this young woman and the sales clerk with whom she spoke.

The young woman was told that applications were available online, but the clerk knew for a fact that that store was not currently hiring.  At this point, I realized the young woman was distressed.  I tried not to eavesdrop, but it was impossible due to the close proximity.  The clerk came from behind the counter and hugged the young woman and asked if she could pray with her.  The young woman readily agreed and then began to cry as she explained that she was a widow with two small children.  She had been working as a nurse and had lost her job after her employer downsized.  She was willing to work anywhere, doing anything, in order to feed her children and provide housing for them.

The sales clerk gently placed her hands on the young woman's shoulders and began to pray for her and for her children. She prayed fervently without concern for those of us who stood in line.  I don't know about anyone else, but I bowed in prayer and a few minutes later, opened my tear-filled eyes. 

I have thought about that young woman several times in the last few days, but I have thought more about the sales clerk.

Each time I pray for the young woman and her circumstances, I also pray that God would give me the bold spirit necessary to be like the sales clerk.  I am reminded of the song, "Be Bold."  Are you familiar with the lyrics?


"BE BOLD"
Be bold, be strong
For the Lord your God is with you
Be bold, be strong
For the Lord your God is with you
I am not afraid
I am not dismayed
Because I'm walking in faith and victory
Come on and walk in faith and victory
For the Lord your God is with you


The Bible admonishes us to pray without ceasing.  That I can do.  What I have a hard time doing is praying with or for others in a public, secular setting.  That I can strive to do.  With God's help, I plan to take baby steps toward that goal.  I want to be bold, I want to be strong, and I want to remember that the Lord, our God is with me as I take each baby step.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:5,6

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Time: Use It or Lose It

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.  You will have your heart broken, probably more than once and it's harder every time.  You'll break hearts, too.  So, remember how it felt when yours was broken.  You'll fight with your best friend.  You'll blame a new love from things an old one did.  You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love.  So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is  a minute of happiness you'll never get back.  Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.  - Anonymous - 

As I was clearing files from my computer, I found this and thought about the wisdom contained in the lines.  It was a great reminder that I need to practice what I preach.  I often find myself wasting minutes in unproductive activities.  I need to stay focused on what is important.

I have been trying to prepare a short story each week for a writer's challenge on the website, FaithWriters.com.  I'm not entering the weekly contest for something to do, I have more items on my "To Do" list than I can possibly accomplish in a lifetime.  BUT, I have always enjoyed writing and a long-held dream of mine has been to see my name on a book spine.

FaithWriters is my springboard.  I need to practice writing succinctly and I need the feedback I get from the other writers on the website.  There are weekly winners and while my focus is not on garnering a spot in the top three, it would be nice to have my efforts recognized.

The time I spend writing is not wasted time.  I need to practice, to improve my skills.  What about the time I spend doing other things?  Time spent watching television is almost always wasted.  A mindless sitcom steals thirty minutes.  Sure, I could say I need the time to "wind down" after a stressful day, but if my need is to "wind down" then why not read a book?  Or watch a program with some educational value?  Some of my time is scheduled for me, I am following someone else's schedule.  Are those minutes wasted because I have no control?

Each minute I spend waiting with my mother-in-law while she undergoes chemotherapy is an opportunity for us to talk.  Or, if she is resting, it is an opportunity for me to read, write, or rest.  I could easily waste those hours reading women's magazines - actually most of the time would be spent looking at advertisements, as there are few articles.  I try to use those hours reading books that will instruct or inspire.  If I write, I choose to write with a purpose.

In sixty minutes, I can write five to ten pages on my latest novel.  In sixty minutes, I can rad two chapters in an inspirational book.  In sixty minutes, I can read my Bible, take notes, and pray.  In sixty minutes, I can do something with my family that will leave a lasting memory.

Or I could take a nap.  I'm not opposed to naps, ask anyone who knows me.  I love naps.  From time to time, I find them to be essential.  But, I can't use naps as a way to fill time.  I can't get that time back, and besides, come bedtime I'll have a hard time falling asleep.

What about the time that must be spent taking care of the household?  The minutes I spend grocery shopping, unloading and putting away groceries?  What about the minutes I spend washing dishes or preparing a meal?  What about the minutes I spend vacuuming and dusting?  I can't get those minutes back.  Are they wasted?

Certainly not.  Some of the best conversations I've had with my kids have happened while we washed dishes, cleaned the house or picked up sticks in the yard.  Some of my most fervent prayers have been offered up while I scrubbed the kitchen floor.

We all have 1440 minutes in our day.  We either use them or lose them.  God expects us to be good stewards of our time. Make every minute count.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Seeing Yourself Through God's Eyes

At what age do we start validating ourselves based on the opinions of others?  Middle school?  Grade school?  

I love working with young people.  I did my student teaching with middle school students and taught high school.  I've lead youth groups and taught Sunday School classes for these age groups.  I've had a lot of heart-to-heart conversations...

I'm not sure when it starts, but I do know that girls spend entirely too much time focusing on the approval of others.  Do you remember what it was like to be that age and feel like everyone was watching your every move?  Worrying that everyone saw you trip and fall? Worrying that everyone noticed your shoes or clothes were an off brand?

These poor girls want desperately to fit in and at the same time they want to make a statement and be different.  No wonder they're insecure.  The media tells them they're all too fat and that they need plastic surgery to enhance their inner beauty.  No wonder their insecure.  Their teachers compare their achievements or lack of achievement to other students.

And their mothers, well we don't have a clue, do we?  How could we possibly understand what it's like to have a guy walk past and not notice you?  How could we possibly know what it's like to see everyone else get picked for a team while you get ignored?  How could we understand feeling like you'll never be good enough?

We can assure our girls that other people have their own problems and aren't focusing on them.  Kids are too self-centered we tell them, they make a cruel remark and as far as they're concerned, it's over.  You keep dwelling on what was said, but the other person is probably oblivious to the pain they inflicted.  They're too busy dwelling on the pain someone else inflicted on them.  Does this sound familiar?  Have you had conversations like this?

Hypocrites, aren't we?



Last week, several women joined me on a Facebook discussion thread.  I've been reading Beth Moore's book, So Long Insecurity and wanted to share it with my friends.  Most of the women do not have copies of the book; so, I am reviewing the book one chapter at a time and tossing out questions. 

We had a small number actively participating and I am hoping those who followed along but did not comment, will join in this week.  Hmmm.  We're talking about insecurity and the comment I heard repeatedly was something like this, "I was afraid I'd sound stupid, so I didn't type anything." 

Ladies - we are ALL insecure.  Even those women you know who always look so perfect!  AND, men are insecure as well - not about the same issues - but they are insecure, too.  It's time we stepped out of our shells and started living for today.  Don't wait until you've read a few more books, lost a few more pounds, cleaned the house. . .

In this book, Beth Moore is able to convey what most of us are thinking.  I love this book!  And I know that if you read it you will, too.  But, if you can't get your hands on a copy, consider following along each Monday at 7:30 pm for a lively discussion. 

I don't know about you, but I care about the opinions of other people.  Sure, I try to tell myself that it doesn't matter what others think - I am who I am, take me or leave me.  But the truth is, I do care.  And when I sense people don't like me or would rather not spend time with me, it hurts. 

Do you focus too much on the approval of others? 

God could have made you any way he wanted to - and He did.  Have you thought about that?  With all of the options for hair color, eye color, skin color, facial features, body types, God made you exactly the way He wanted you to be.  

Are your insecurities holding you back from serving Him?  As Christians, we are gifted people. God knew what He was doing when He created you.  AND, he knew what he was doing when he selected your gifts so that you could serve others on his behalf.  

God sees you as you are, but more importantly, he sees you as you can be.  Don't let insecurity keep you from being the best you that you can be.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Time-Consuming

(This would have been my entry for FaithWriters last week had I not missed the deadline....)



“These staff meetings are a waste of time.  They’re all the same.  ‘Brenda, you’ve done such an ex-cell-ent job this week.  Brenda, you can do no wrong.  Oh, please can we bow down and kiss your feet?’” Carolyn’s bitter tone spoke volumes.

Having worked at Vi-Tech the longest, Carolyn struggled with a sense of entitlement.  Unfortunately, management did not recognize her longevity at weekly staff meetings.

“Brenda does a good job and she’s great with the customers.  She deserves the accolades.”

“Janet, don’t tell me you’ve fallen under the spell of Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”

“I’m not under anyone’s spell, I just think the company would benefit if all of us adopted her attitude.”

Carolyn looked closely at Janet.  “What did you do, go and get religion this weekend?”

“What?”

“Never mind.  The company doesn’t care about little peons like us.  Why should I work harder to make the head honcho richer?  He’s not going to share his profits with me.”

“Maybe he would if we all had Brenda’s work ethic.”

Flared nostrils and heavy breathing replaced a verbal response.  Carolyn turned away from Janet and walked into the conference room.  Waiting for Carolyn to be seated before entering the room, Janet chose the chair furthest from Carolyn’s.

Brenda’s achievements were highlighted during the brief staff meeting.  Her sales quota was higher than expected.  The sales managers sang her praises and lauded her customer service feedback.  Janet looked over and noticed Carolyn was seething.

Janet moved closer to Brenda and timidly asked, “Could I talk to you for a few minutes?”

After the last salesperson left the conference room, Janet shut the door.  “Brenda, I want to ask you about time management.”

“Me?  Time management?  Oh, I’m probably the last person you should be asking about that.  I’m always rushing because I haven’t budgeted my time well enough.”

“You never work on Sundays because you have church stuff in the morning and at night.  You never work past five on Wednesdays because you have more church stuff.  Your kids are always involved in things at church and a lot of nights you have to leave early to take them.  And every time I turn around, you’re bringing in food, because you have extra from baking for someone who’s had a death in the family or someone’s sick. Last year, you took your vacation time and went to Honduras with your family for a mission trip.  Your time is consumed with church activities.  How do you do all of that and still be top salesperson week after week?  There are people putting in a lot more hours and their numbers aren’t even close to yours.  And, Sunday is the best day for sales, I know you know that, but you’re the only one who doesn’t work on Sundays.”

Brenda smiled, “Janet, Vi-Tech employees me and they give me a check each week, but I don’t work for Vi-Tech.”

“What are you talking about?  We all work for Vi-Tech.”

“Are you familiar with Colossians 3:23?  That verse is my motto:  ‘Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters . . . ‘”

“I’ve never heard that before.  Is that why you work so hard when you’re here?  You’re pretending you work for God?”

“I’m not pretending, Janet.  I answer to God.  He is my supervisor.  Each day, I ask myself if my actions have pleased God.  If the answer is ‘no’ I ask myself, ‘why?’ Then I vow to try harder the next day not to let Him down.”

“But all that stuff at your church is so time-consuming, how do you get everything done?”

“When you say ‘time-consuming’ it sounds negative.  Everything I do at my church and for my church is out of love.  I want to do those things and when you want to do something, you find a way to fit it into your schedule.”

“What about work?  It consumes at least a third of your week?”
“Again, that sounds negative.  I try to remind myself that I am fortunate to have a job and I know God had a hand in providing this job.  If I work hard to earn His approval, I know those in management will be happy with my performance.”

“You religious people sure see things differently.”

“Janet, do you attend church?”

“No, not since I was a little girl.  Why?”

I was wondering if you’d like to see things a little differently?”