Where There’s Smoke…

…there’s someone fuming.

I have a long history with cigarette and cigar smoke. Surrounded by it from birth, my family, relatives and most of their adult friends had the habit. I grew up quoting, “I’d walk a mile for a camel.” “I’d rather fight than switch.” At Ganser’s Five and Ten (that’s cents, not dollars) I’d buy a red or blue translucent case of chocolate cigarettes and pretend elegance as I held the paper-wrapped cylinders between two fingers. I nearly choked to death once on an aqua-colored cigar gum.

My parents quit smoking when I was seven. Ashtrays stayed out for visitors. I never even felt curious to try. But I didn’t think twice about someone else doing it; it was part of life. In my twenties, I started entertaining in bars and supper-clubs. Smoke clung to my hair and clothes. Next morning, I’d wake up with grit in my eyes. I opened my guitar case and smoke wafted out. Even the music folder reeked. I hated it, but it was part of the job.

Later I abandoned the weekend gigs in favor of raising our boys. We took them to restaurants (to train them to be civilized in public). Some places had a non-smoking section. We’d walk through the smoke to reach the few tables set aside for non-smokers—next to the noisy bussing counter or the kitchen door. One quiet night, we chose to sit in the main area. The few around us were busy eating. But one soon lit up. At the first fumes, my throat closed. I could scarcely breathe; I nearly panicked. I felt embarrassed by the angry looks of the smokers at the next table, but we had to ask to be moved.

With the years it grew worse, and we discovered I have asthma. A trigger is cigarette or cigar smoke. By the second whiff I reach for the inhaler. I can’t begin to number the dark looks I’ve received. Do they think I’m faking it?

Last July, Wisconsin enacted a state-wide smoking ban in public places. Every restaurant we avoided is open to us. We still marvel when we walk in and can both breathe and see. But who could have foreseen the new problem? A balmy evening beckoned us outdoors to escape the crowded stuffiness of a waiting area the other night. I took one step out, inhaled deeply, and ran back in fuming, “Get me outa this stinkin’ fresh air!”

The smokers are outside now.

by Robin J. Steinweg

A Very Squirrelly Tale

 "It takes more guts than talent to write a blog" I told a friend today.  This post may prove that, but sometimes you just have to "write what you know," even if it's squirrelly.

You know the feeling—you’re sound asleep and suddenly you’re awake. What’s that, you wonder? What woke me up? I sat up in bed and sniffed—was that smoke I was smelling? Climbing out of bed I wandered downstairs to the basement. Yep, it smelled, very faintly, like hair was burning somewhere down there. But try as I might, I could find nothing even hot that might be causing the smell. Then, it was gone. Really, not a trace of smokiness in the air. A bit nerve-wracking. Have put out three fires in houses, I know where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Repeat this scenario for several days, each time, smelling, searching, then nothing. I finally discovered the smell was coming from the CO vent on the top of the hot water heater. I could see nothing, but the smell was definitely very strong and coming out there!

Later that night when My Hero Hubby (MHH) came home, he heard a scratching sound coming from a door at the bottom of an old brick chimney in our basement. This is what the CO vent pipe from the water heater connects to. He opened the small door at the bottom of the chimney saw a bushy tail quivering. He quickly slammed the little door shut. After releasing two mice into the basement during a Christmas tree incident one year, he wasn’t anxious for a repeat of that adventure. Okay so we have a squirrel in the chimney. Is this “Rocky” so dumb that he not only got caught in a chimney but he keeps getting burned by the hot water heater venting?

I called the pest control guy (Squirrel Guy Mike) who came to investigate. With the help of an auger, we discovered that what was burning in the hot water heater was NOT fur, but feathers. Yuk. Since “Tweety” was no longer living, we decided I would take care of the feathered remains and SGM went home to get his squirrel gun for “Rocky,” both of us assuming the poor thing must be traumatized and close to death or at least a coma from lack of oxygen—hah!



JAIL SQUIRREL

As soon as SGM pointed that gun in the chimney, Rocky revived and scooted up straight up those old bricks. Why he couldn’t just keep on going up and out the top is a rodent mystery. So SGM set up a live trap covering the door out of the chimney, took his gun and left to catch a racoon across the way.  Sure enough, within a couple of hours curiousity got the better of  Rocky and there he sat, subdued but wary, looking hungry and thirsty. I placed the cage in the basement shower stall with water and sunflower seeds. By the next morning when SGM came to retrieve him, we had a feisty critter chattering up a storm. SGM was happy to be able to “Bring ‘em back alive” and took Rocky to release him into the wild, far away from our chimney.

Meanwhile MHH (My Hero Hubby) cleaned the leftover baked bird out of the vent for me. And for his birthday, I gave him a bird/rodent-proof hat for the top of the chimney.

So now I’m wondering what to do about the two chick-a-dees who are building a nest in my mailbox….

Just for fun, how about suggesting some spiritual applications for this squirrel saga.  I'll be looking forward to your comments and some great spiritual wisdom. 
About the best I can come up with is a verse we used to quote to our middle child who tended to wake up very crabby:
"All the days of the afflicted are evil, but he who is of a merry heart has a continual feast."
 Prov 15:15. 
Although afflicted with squirrels and birds, laughing and blogging about it makes it all better.


 

WHEN IT’S TIME TO CHANGE, YOU’VE GOT TO REARRANGE

By Marie Tschopp

Spring is on its way, and, once again, I am on a diet. I’ve cut way back on my food intake and have lost a whopping two (count 'em two!) pounds. I think my scale just snickered.

I hear losing weight at the speed of snails is a by-product of growing older. As I discovered other age-related side effects, I did what anybody in my situation would do—I wrote a song about it.

Yesterday Revisited

(To the tune of "Yesterday" by the Beatles.)

Yesterday

AARP seemed so far away

But now my hair is turning gray

And I stockpile jars of Oil of Olay.

Suddenly
A hot flash comes over me

And I start to sweat profusely.

Hot flashes come so suddenly.

Where did my neck go?

I don't know, the mirror won't say.

I sense something's wrong

How I long for yesterday.

Yesterday

Life was such an easy game to play

Now Metamucil starts my day.

Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Turn back the clock to yesterday.

I am changing, but with help from Preference by L’Oreal and Spanx, I think I’ll be okay. Besides, no one ever stays the same, except God. He never changes. He is always the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. In the crazy times we live in, isn’t that nice to know?

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8 NIV)

National “I Believe” Day

By Lori Boruff

I declare today is National “I Believe” Day

I Believe...

I Believe spring is sprouting.

I Believe round pizza should come in a round box.

I Believe it's okay to wear socks that don't match.

I Believe Mr. Sun is always shining on someone.

I Believe in miracles.

I Believe a broken heart can mend.

I Believe Hope makes things happen.

I Believe Truth is more powerful than lies.

I Believe that God loved me first.

I Believe He sent his son to find me.

I Believe Jesus found me and I found him.

I Believe I'll be dancing forever in his presence.


What do you believe on National “I Believe” Day?
Tell your friends about this holiday and ask what they believe.


“For God so loved the world he gave his only
begotten son, that whoever believes in him (Jesus Christ) will not
perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

Help! I'm Stuck!

By Lisa J. Lickel

We've all been there – lost either because we didn't follow directions through poor sense of direction or miscommunicated instructions. Either works for when you get lost in the maze of your writing. You need to write material that makes the reader care to keep with you, to find out what will happen next, to absorb every word until the last one.

But…at this moment you're either staring at albino cows lost in a snowstorm, or the Gordian knot your heroine or topic managed to get in to when they wandered away from you. How do you get from Crisis to Aha!?


a. Call the cows

b. Go for a walk

c. Kill someone


Less messy is Brainstorming.


Good brainstorming starts with "What If."


Pacing, vacuuming, mowing lawn, or sweeping the garage are acceptable multi-tasking jobs that can help you while you begin this process; however, at some point you'll want to record your thoughts.


Conflicts – or problems – usually fall into two categories: plot or character for fiction; content or teach-ability for nonfiction; and consist of being unsolvable or solvable. A writer builds tension by using these conflicts; to create tension, a writer adds elements to the storyline or takes them away.

Some of these methods include adding new surprise characters which do not always have to be human – pets with a quirk (think Charlotte's Web); a natural element like weather or earthquake; a favor element – friend or stranger asks something (think fairy tales); something needs to be learned.

For taking away elements, consider what can be lost – freedom, choice, things both or either loved or hated. What if the character recovered or received the goal without working for it? Loss through death; loss through carelessness (guilt); theft, natural or unnatural means. Think loss of mentor: now the student has to figure out how to carry on.

These and other ideas are some of the things we'll expand upon at the Late Night Chat on April 8 at the Quad-Cities Christian Writer's Conference. We'll brainstorm together on your individual works in progress, whether fiction or non, adult, historical or children's. We might do some role-playing or take a field trip through the lobby; we'll definitely make charts. There will be chocolate. I hope you’ll join me.

Foxes, Friends and the Father – Corrections for Becoming a Writer

By Kathryn Lang

“You are good – you should be a writer.” My friend likes to tease me. I have discovered that fellow writers tend to jab a lot with words. He may have meant the comment as a joke, but he was right.


I am a writer. I create content for other websites, write on my blog and contribute to a local paper. I have bits of books and bible studies scattered all around the office. Words pour out of me on a daily basis and sometimes they are even worth sharing.


I am NOT writing in a consistent and persistent fashion.


My writing talent and desire pours over me from my Father. It is a gift – uniquely wrapped up and presented for use in and through my life. So often I leave piled up in the wrapping like a pitiful after Christmas discard. My focus turns to things that I want or I think and I forget all about the gift that has been presented.


The more I think about those words the more I understand that I have missed the mark. My aim has only been a little off, but even a little off can cause you to miss the target altogether if corrections are not made.


Correcting my Path to be a Writer

1. I sat down and wrote out a business plan for my writing. I put the priority in the areas where God has pressed my heart and made other areas secondary to that one. Creating a business plan gives me guidance on how I should spend my limited resources of time, energy and finances.


2. I set goals and objectives that would challenge me to do more but that were reasonable enough to be obtainable IF I follow through. Several weeks ago I tried to set up a plan to create 9600 words PER DAY. This time I looked at the reality of life and then planned around that reality in a way that would push me a little harder towards my dreams. My new goal is 3200 to 4800 words per day (that includes personal writing and work writing, since I do work full-time as a freelance writer).

3. I set aside time to read words of encouragement and motivation to help feed my own words of encouragement and motivation. A spring that is not refreshed will eventually run dry.


4. I committed to specific writing times and narrowed down those writings to things that would help me achieve my goals and objectives set forth in my business plan. I left enough time in my plan to be flexible for the unexpected events and activities that life throws at me.


My own walk has not been disturbed by the big issues of life. It is the little foxes that have gotten into my life and wreaked havoc. The words of my friend reminded me that I need to recognize the little foxes. Keeping them at bay will allow me to treasure the gifts of my Father and through those gifts truly become the writer He intended.

.

PASSING THE TEST

By Michael Elmore

No one likes to takes tests. I remember the very first test I took in seminary; my hands were shaking because I was so nervous. (Incidentally, I aced the test!)
In 1 Corinthians 10:13, 14, the Bible states that God tests us, “No test has seized you except what is common to everyone. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tested beyond what you can bear. But when you are tested, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it”

God’s tests are not like pencil and paper tests. His tests aren’t to see what we know; he wants to see what we are. His tests are more like drop forging hot metal. In the process of drop forging, one metal is combined with another and then dropped into a vat of cold water to see if it cracks or remains strong. In this way it can be shaped and molded. The purpose of God’s test is to make us stronger by shaping us into the image of Christ.

As I said, no one likes tests. However the apostle Paul shares with us three things in this verse that will help us “ace” God’s test. The first secret to passing the test is to realize that you are not in a unique situation; the test you are going through is “common to everyone”. In other words, lots of people have or are facing the same thing you are. God is not picking on you.

The second secret to passing the test is to realize that, “God is faithful”. Like the Marine motto “Semper Fi”, you can count on God not to test you beyond what you can stand up under. Will you face pressure while being tested? Of course! We must realize that most of us rarely change unless we are pressured to do so. That is why James 1:2 says, “Count it all joy brothers when you face many kinds of tests.” Why? God is doing his best to help you change for the better. God guarantees that the pressure won’t be so great that we will fail the test.

The third secret to passing the test Paul says is that “when we are tested God will provide a way out.” What we don’t realize is that “the way out”, is “often the way through”. I went through the largest corn maze in the State of Iowa with my family. We all went in and wondered around in circles asking other people for directions. Finally, we spotted a platform where we thought that we would see the way out. Up on top of the platform we soon realized that we were stuck in the middle of the maze. We could see the end but we still had to go through the maze to get there. Fortunately, an employee met us and offered to take us through to the exit. God doesn’t provide a way out, but he does provide a way through. The secret to passing the test is to realize that it is God who takes us through.

You may be saying to yourself, “hey, I am going through a whopper of a test RIGHT NOW and I need help. Like a dead car battery your strength might be used up and you don’t think you can make it. That’s exactly where God wants us to be . . . wholly dependent on his power. Open yourself heart right now and receive a boost of God’s power to recharge your life. Remember, “God is faithful he will not let you be tested beyond what you can bear.” Use the three secrets the Apostle Paul gives us to pass this test: tests put the pressure on us but God will never let it become too great that you can’t stand it. You are not unique many people face tests like yours and pass it successfully. Don’t forget, you may have to go through the test, but you are not alone God goes through it with you.

Michael Elmore

.

The Longing Heart

By Sr. Jeannette Doran, OCD

 
The human heart hungers for God. And our hearts are truly restless until they rest in God. With fear that our needs will not be met, we search in empty places for what will satisfy us. This continues the cycle of trying to fill ourselves with fruit from bare branches. One will not find lasting happiness. The longing in our hearts can only be filled with God.

John of the Cross writes that “the center of our soul is God”. In taking moments of quiet to enter into our inner depths and seek God, peace will penetrate our being.

Yet we say in our chaotic world how is it possible to find a real silence? The noise of news blares from all corners of our immediate world. This can draw us so quickly into the almost daily reports of roadside bombs in Afghanistan, and gun violence in families and cities across our country. How can one find this quiet space?

Personally, I've begun to realize interior peace is attainable, even if world wars exist. St. John of the Cross writes in the third book of The Ascent of Mount Carmel that peace and tranquility are such blessings that even if the whole world were to come to an end this should not disturb our peace. Victor Frankl wrote of his experience in the Nazi concentration camps. He reflected that when one focused on some gift of beauty each day such as the sight of the rosy hue of mornings light, one could survive and find meaning in life. Many who lived severe atrocities survived because they learned to do just this. We learn that even in seemingly unbearable circumstances we can cry out to God in the center of our soul.

It does take practice not to allow oneself to be overwhelmed in darkness but this can be done in becoming aware of the beauty in our lives. Awareness comes when we take time to touch the velvet rose petals and grasp the lovely lilies, to gaze at the gentle sky-blue pinks of dawn and the vibrant red-orange hues at sunset. It is realized when we understand why the deer longs for refreshing water surrounding us each day. The more we taste and see what beauty envelopes us we praise God for these gifts surrounding us each day. Above all when we fill our minds and hearts with holy thoughts, our serenity will be guarded and moment by moment we can hold on to a lasting joy. It is possible for the longing in our hearts for God to be satisfied.

The Baseball

By Marvin Ferguson

It's a good thing I'm not afraid of speed or height. At times I travel very fast

and other times very slow. Sometimes I go high into the air before coming

down. I'm use to getting knocked around just like people. My face is round. I

don't have any eyes, but sometimes people wish I did. Nor do I have a nose

or mouth. Not even a hairline to put some character on my face. All I have

are stitches arranged like an appendix scar. Folks, I'm different. I don't have

any feelings. You never see me smile or cry. I am a baseball.

One day I found myself comfortably inside the web of a baseball glove

before I felt a pair of hands moving on my face, flipping me around until
some fingers rested on my stitches. Then the glove moved, but I couldn't tell
where I was going.

The hand on my face didn't move either until I suddenly felt a cool breeze.
As I was lifted out of that cozy spot inside a glove I traveled over a man's
shoulder toward his back so fast it took me by surprise. Then, as he extended
his arm to its maximum position, suddenly I felt a jerk that brought me back
over that same shoulder leaving his fingers, traveling on my own at ninety
miles per hour.

As I sailed through the air, the breeze increased whipping in my face. All
around me everything looked blurred. In front of me, all I could see was a
faint patch of dark brown that looked like the glove I just left. But I never
got there. For out of nowhere came a piece of wood that sent me into a
different direction, rolling over a green carpet, parting the thick grass like a
boat speeding through the Everglades.

The joys of being a novelist are the challenge to personify things in the real
world. From my book titled "The Boys On The Gold Coast" I had the
opportunity to share life from the view of a baseball. I wish you all some
happy reading.

Marvin


Photo from iStockphoto.com

What If Your Husband Didn't Come Home?

This year Cynthia Ruchti will once again be Assistant Director for the Quad-Cities Christian Writers Conference, held April 8-9 in Eldridge, Iowa.  For more information about the conference or to register please visit http://www.qccwc.com.  She would love to meet you there and so would we! 

Last year, Cynthia's first novel was released to great success.  What follows is my review for:
They Almost Always Come Home
Cynthia Ruchti's debut novel.

Move over Ted Dekker. “They Almost Always Come Home” is one of those books that grabs your attention on the first page and holds your heart all the way till the last. By the time the first chapter ended, I was hooked on this story of a real woman facing real problems the best way she knows how.

Libby’s husband, Greg, is late coming home from a wilderness/camping-fishing trip. But Libby is not sure if she’s mad or glad about that. The loss of their young daughter has put so much stress on Libby and the marriage that some days she isn't sure if their life together can survive or if she even cares any more.  Despite Libby's conflicting emotions, Greg's mysterious absence is all she can think about.

After taking the waiting as long as she can, Libby enlists her best friend, Jenika, and Greg's wilderness-savvy father to join her in a trip attempting to retrace her husband’s steps to find out what really happened.  Libby & her friend are as far from campers as you can get and she has never really gotten beneath the hard exterior of Greg’s father. She leaves half-expecting to find Greg has left her for another woman. Her journey and what she finds cause her to reach to the very depths of her faith in God.  At this point the story really kicked into high gear for me and became as suspenseful as any John Grissom or Stephen King I’ve read.

The book had me reading late into the night. The gripping story took twists and turns I never saw coming and kept me turning pages, on edge and nervous for the characters. As I read this story I felt I was reading behind the scenes of a real life mystery as it unfolded.

Author Cynthia Ruchti’s writing is REAL. You can feel Libby’s frustration and fear, her anger and grief; her humor and sentimental moments all ring true. Libby, Jenika (her sister in Christ and best friend in faith) and Frank (Greg’s father) seemed like friends I might run into at the corner store or Wal-Mart. The faith and commitment they exhibit is never overdone, but always just people doing what people who really care for each other do faced with a crisis.

It was one of the things that made this book so satisfying to read.

I hope if you’re a mystery or suspense fan you won’t be disappointed in “They Almost Always Come Home."  And come join Cynthia and all the other professional faculty at the QCCWC.  Maybe your book will be the "blest-seller" I review next year!

Introducing Genaire Walker

Learning to Surf

I have always loved the water. Ironically, I also have deathly fear of drowning.... which is why I am learning to surf.

 Though I learned to swim at a local YMCA as a child, it wasn’t until our annual vacations to the coast of South Carolina I came to love the water. I quickly learned the difference between pool and open water swimming. The pool was a very safe environment. Entries were clear, boundaries defined, depths measured, and help was close. Ocean swimming was quite another matter. I found the ocean to be dynamic, exciting and unpredictable. It did not take long for me to go from a child frolicking along the shoreline at low tide to a fearless teen attacking 9 foot waves and riding them in to shore. I relish those memories of lazy 12 hr days at the beach and my fearless “jump in” attitude.

But as young adulthood faded to middle age I forgot my love of the sea. Instead of splashing in gorgeous waters, I found myself swimming in debt, drowning in problems, and sinking in despair. These new waters seemed murky, ominous.

Before long, this once confident swimmer was struggling . . . flailing . . . fighting hard just trying to survive each day. When I had exhausted myself from kicking hard (and going nowhere), God gently reminded me of the things I learned many years ago:

• FLOAT. To float is an act of acceptance. The moment I can no longer stand on my own, I release my being to the control of something bigger. Floating is the choice to surrender, practice stillness, rest and trust in God.  

• SWIM. To swim is the art of navigating myself in situations I can’t control. Active faith is very much the same. It is the exercise of my faith which keeps me disciplined, centered and pointed in the right direction. To choose not to swim is to risk being set adrift . . . or worse yet, to drown.

• SURF. To surf is spiritual mastery. To surf is finding ecstasy in an uncertain journey. More powerful than swimming, with surfing comes the realization I can travel much farther (and faster) by yielding the movement of God, than any distance I can go on my own. It is communion, sensitivity and response to the ebb and flow of God’s will.

This shift has made a huge difference. That is, I now flow with life instead of struggling against it. I am being taught God’s timing. I am learning to ride life’s storms with finesse and confidence, knowing that HE is holding me up. It is also humbling -- I still wipe out from time to time, but at least now I am enjoying the ride.

  I am learning to surf. Come on in . . . The water’s fine.

Genaire Walker

Genaire Walker is newcomer to the blogosphere from Davenport, Iowa.

She is not new,however,to the craft of writing, however. A twelve-year veteran of the television and radio fields, she has produced countless advertising campaigns under her previously owned business and former pen name, WalkerCreative. Her shift from advertising to inspirational writing reflects her deeply rooted desire to spread knowledge rather than negative messages to her community.

Her poetic accomplishments include the House of Rah ‘Sun-Ra Blazing Track Award’ for her produced collaboration of “It Don’t Belong to You” with poet Disillusioned.
Another recent poem of hers, “Love Letter to the Black Man” was awarded Image of the Day in on WrittenImages.com, and her Audio “Got Your Numba” produced by Rahkyt (pronounced Rocket) was awarded January’s Honored Audio in Written Images Live. The same piece received the Soultry Echoes “Soultry Spotlight” Award at www. soultry.org. Her heartbreaking poem “Mal Practice” was recently awarded ‘Poem of the the Week’ on HipHopPoetry.com
She is thankful for the encouragement of her husband, children and church friends. She humbly asks for prayer as she explores new avenues in her writing career.

Introducing Shelly Akins

Who's Got Questions?


The three high school girls look expectantly at me to answer their question during Sunday school: Does God love people who don’t believe in Him? It’s more complicated than a yes or no answer.

Together we have struggled with this question in various forms over the past four years we have been together as a Sunday school class. They have each grown up in the church and in faith, yet as they enter their mid-teen years, they have begun to question what it is they actually believe. Where are the miracles of the Bible in our lives today? Why doesn’t God speak to us in a voice we can hear and understand? Who are we to live and who does God love? These questions continue to crop up during our Bible study times together.

My answer is to them is usually, what do you think? Really, it’s because I don’t know myself. Teaching…that’s not the right word, leading them these past few years has made me grow deeper in my faith and sake myself tough questions about what I believe and why. These three young women of God challenge me in their desire to grow into strong women of God. We’ve learned that some questions just lead to more questions, not answers.

I took my faith for granted and thought I knew what I believed, but in teaching them, I’ve had to really think about the why of what I believe. Why do we have a trinity and if God is one being why are there separate parts? When I pray for God to heal my grandmother (who has Alzheimer’s disease) she only keeps getting worse?

I don’t know. A lot of times, the other members of the class have better answers than I do. In response to the Alzheimer’s question, a classmate commented that we don’t always know God’s plan and we have to have faith that He’s in control.

You want to be challenged in your faith? You want to grow? Teach Sunday school or hang out with young Christians. Sometimes I feel like children, youth and young people are looked down on by older members of the church. They may not have all the answers to their faith, but they do have questions. Will you be the one that they look to for answers and guidance?


Shelly Akins is a small town reporter, a city girl learning about farm life one story at a time. Shelly also likes to write non fiction articles for chidren's magazines. When she's not writing, she reads and reads, especially young adult novels. She is a Presbyterian pastor's wife and the mother of two children. Read more of her writing on hub pages here: http://hubpages.com/profile/shellyakins




~

The Real *F*Word

“Excuse me” I said to the back bending over the display of children’s pajamas. No response.

I’d been standing for several seconds behind the busy mom’s shopping cart. Her two cute kiddos sitting in the cart smiled at me and I smiled back with my “universal grandma grin.” I cleared my throat again, a little louder while trying to gauge if I could squeeze by.

The shopping cart was smack in the middle of a narrow gap between two shelves of clothing, a long walk when you’re at the end of the day. I waited a bit more, then gently took hold of the cart handle and lifted it over about 3 inches so I could push by, winking at the big brown-eyed preschoolers as I went.

“Next time say excuse me!” I heard in a harsh tone.

Startled, I replied, “I did” as I continued walking away.

“Not all of us have perfect hearing,” she snarled. When I didn’t respond the ranting began, “That is so rude. You should NEVER touch someone else’s cart…”

I turned around and opened my mouth to tell her that although I was sorry she was having a bad day she wasn’t allowed to take it out on me. What came out of my mouth surprised us both.

“Will you please forgive me for touching your cart?” (Where did THAT come from?)

“WHAT?” she said, as if I’d said another word that begins with the letter “f”.

Between the two of us I honestly don’t know who was more shocked, but I think it may’ve been me. I was surprised that the mere act of apologizing and trying to make things right could elicit such anger.

But maybe I shouldn’t have been. After all, asking for forgiveness is not something our culture is known for. My church had recently finished a sermon series entitled “Forgiveness—The Real *F*-Word”. For five weeks we’d heard about forgiveness, how to forgive others, forgive ourselves, forgive God, and about asking for and receiving forgiveness.
If that weren’t enough, during the same period I’d taught two Sunday School lessons on forgiving to 3-5-year-olds in our Pre-K. Trying to teach such a big concept to little kids challenged me to get to the heart of the matter.  It certainly made me examine my attitudes about forgiving and being forgiven.


I think that all I’d heard and studied must have been mulling in my mind all this time and at the proper time, with no warning to me, the truth that God wanted me to practice just popped out.

“I need to ask you to forgive me,” I said to my fellow shopper. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful by that. I did something that upset you and I’m sorry and I hope you will forgive me.”

The unhappy lecturer continued, “I was worried about my children, you could’ve run off with them. You should never touch someone’s cart with their children in it!”

“I know. You’re right. I shouldn’t have touched your cart. I’m sure you were scared. I have 7 grandkids myself. I’m sorry that happened and I need to ask your forgiveness.”

By this time the woman was utterly confused and more than a little frustrated. No matter what she threw at me I responded the same way as sincerely and meekly as I knew how, by telling her how sorry I was and how I hoped she’d forgive me.

After listening to her for a while longer I finally felt it was time to walk away, leaving her still angry (at me? at the world? at life?) I said once more I hoped she’d forgive me and that I’d learned a valuable lesson from her. She walked away muttering under her breath. But at least she didn’t say she wouldn’t forgive me. I think she was convinced of my sincerity, but was at a loss as to how to react to being asked to forgive.
This was one of those random incidents that get under your skin. I’ve thought on and off about it ever since, starting in the parking lot, asking God “Where did that come from?” I’m glad I asked for forgiveness, I know it was the right thing to do, but it was so unexpected by me and so unappreciated by the one offended.

I’ve come to the conclusion that God had one short lesson for me that day-- Ask For Forgiveness. Don't defend, argue or justify.  It really doesn’t really matter if the actions are innocent, if you've offended someone just suck it up, apologize, and ask for forgiveness. That’s it. Just that simple. Don’t make it a big deal, just humbly ask the person offended to forgive you for the offense.  I learned long ago at a Bill Gothard seminar that even one percent of the blame was enough to ask forgiveness for.

I wish I had a heart-warming ending for this little shopping trip. But I fear the heart that I offended is still cold. But we serve an awesome God. Maybe, somehow, God will use the fact that someone took her concerns seriously and tried to make things right, to speak to her. That is what I’m praying He’ll do.

Lord Jesus you alone know what it takes to soften a hard heart. In your mercy and grace, please call this woman in from the cold to the warmth of your love.

A Vicarious Life or a Vivacious Life?

By Helen Knueven

Matthew 14:22-33
Jesus went alone to pray after sending His disciples on a ship. While they were there a great storm developed. At some time of the night, Jesus’ returned to them. He walked on the water, and met up with the tossed ship that rocked the frightened followers.

They were afraid they saw a ghost, but Jesus reassured them. “Don’t be afraid; it ‘s me!”

Peter, struck by the adventure and sight of Jesus walking on water requested, “Jesus, if that is you – tell me to come to you!” Jesus complied – and Peter walked on the water for a short time until the ravishing waves caught his attention and then he began to fall.

Jesus realized Peter’s faith was wavering. He extended His hand and lifted him up. After they entered the ship, the storm subsided. The vote was unanimous amidst the disciples: Jesus was the Son of God!

Many sermons have been preached on this passage. Some point out the necessity of faith and urge us to have more faith and to be less like Peter.

Some say, “Be like Peter! At least he walked on water for awhile.”

Others emphasize the graciousness of our Lord . Though He chastised Peter for doubting, He did not hesitate to extend Himself in two ways: in calling out to Peter to join Him in the water walk, and in holding him up when he began to sink.

Today I would like to share another thought. I would like to focus on what Jesus was doing after He sent the disciples away. He was praying. Time with the Father was valued far above everything else. Of all the people He could be healing, of all the storms He could be calming, of all the profound sermons He could have been preaching – Jesus’ priority was His relationship with the Father.
Jesus could have handled this situation is so many different ways. If He relied on experience instead of relationship, He may have spoken to the waves as He did in Matthew 8:26-27. If He did, Peter would have never walked on water. Nor would the others have witnessed the available power of God for everyone who believes.

Because of His constant communion with the Father – He always knew the best way to handle every situation. Although experience is a good teacher – the Holy Spirit is the best teacher.

Has God placed you in some form of leadership? Can you trust the Lord to develop the faith of the people in your life? Do you unintentionally stop those you lead from growing by managing? Or do you lead from the outflow of your relationship with the Lord? Have your best lessons in life been learned from lecture or by experience? Though Jesus Christ was fully human and fully divine - He walked as a man in obedience to the Father; thereby becoming our example.

Let’s be honest. Human nature is walking on concrete, not water. But we are in this Christianity for the magnificent nature of God.

Only in His presence are we truly transformed.

Jesus does not want us to live on the edge of experience but in the joy of God’s ability and presence through us. My prayer is that our communion with the Father will precede our decisions and life’s occurrences.

Of Swimsuits and Carrots

By Kristi Paxton

Swimsuit season is a bright orange carrot dangling in front of my long, gray winter. Yearly, I anticipate the day I can trade my parka and gray skies for a swimsuit and eternal sunshine. Shopping for a swimsuit feeds my fantasy.

Fantasy over.

In reality, the amount of joy I get from my new swimsuit can fit into a thimble—profound since the volume of a thimble is equal to the volume of a swimsuit bottom. And speaking of bottom, I always struggle with the act of putting mine into any swimsuit. Drat! And so begins swimsuit-disappointment season.

Nevertheless, I suspect that:

1. Most of us look awesome in a swimsuit from age 0 to age 24. We never relish those gorgeous years, since we can’t reconcile media’s airbrushed Barbie with the reality that women are uniquely and individually shaped. Covered up, we shuffle shyly to the water, planning our next diet. We waste youth on the young, missing our day in the sun.

2. From age 24 to age 62.5, we think we look bad in a swimsuit. Why do we believe this? Because our culture defines “looking good in a swimsuit” this way:
a. Capable of modeling in the Sports Illustrated annual swimsuit issue.
b. Having a bottom the size of a thimble.

We do not learn the beautiful truth until age 62.5 when we realize that life is short. For proof, visit any warm climate in the dead of winter. Older-but-wiser humans stroll on beaches, pick up shells, splash in the water, enjoy their day in the sun and smile. They finally live life to the full, just as the Bible advised. Their golden tan bulges look “mahh-velous” when coupled with a smile. And if they do look bad in their swimsuits, well then who really cares?

Yet God has made everything beautiful in its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can.
Ecclesiastes 3:11-12, NLT

Kristi Paxton left a 26-year Postmaster career to become a substitute teacher, freelance writer and MadHousewifespokesmodel. She loves her childhood sweetheart-turned-husband, two grown children and a dog named Ziggy. Kristi writes features for the Waterloo Cedar Falls Courier and submits pieces to anything that sounds interesting.  Her hobbies include writing, painting, reading, kayaking, skiing, budget travel, drinking coffee and having ideas. She has an idea that she’d like to be on a beach right now. She lives in the woods outside Cedar Falls, Iowa.

Valentine’s Day: Trivial and Not So Trivial

By Robin J. Steinweg

*15% of American women send themselves flowers on Valentine’s Day.

*3% of pet owners give their pets valentines. (awww)

*Do you wear your heart on your sleeve? The expression started in the Middle Ages; young men and women drew names from a bowl to discover who would be their valentine. They wore these names on their sleeves for one week.

*I add a little red food coloring to the batter for pink heart-shaped pancakes on Valentine’s Day. For supper. With crispy bacon, sausages, and real Wisconsin maple syrup, candles, and my choice of music (just this once, please). And no boy-type body noises at the table.

*64% of men in the U. S. don’t make advance plans for a Valentine’s date with their sweeties. (Hurry! You still have twenty-four hours, fellas!)

*Sir Alexander Fleming introduced penicillin on February 14, 1929, the same day as Chicago’s Valentine’s Day Massacre. Same year the stock market crashed. On the upside, TinTin and Popeye made their debuts that year.

*People spend millions on Valentine’s Day for food, flowers, cards, gifts, and—chocolate!

*Some of the most expensive gifts:

• A six and a half million dollar pink diamond ring by Harry Winston. (’wonder how much a white one is?)

• A purse by Chanel for over two hundred thousand dollars. (no loose change inside)

• A Guerlain lipstick for over sixty thousand dollars. (doesn’t include poofy lips)

• Nearly three thousand for Manolo Blahnik alligator halter shoes. (I never saw an alligator in a halter, nor in shoes) (uff-da)

One of history’s great gifts of love is the Taj Mahal, built by Mughal Emperor Shahjahan in memorial of his wife. It took nearly 22 years to build.

The costliest and greatest gift ever? Freedom from sin and the grave!

“For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through Him you believe in God, who raised Him from the dead and glorified Him, and so your faith and hope are in God. Now…

…love one another deeply, from the heart” (1 Peter 1:18-21, 22b NIV).

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Robin J. Steinweg thinks life is sweet right in the middle of homeschooling, writing children’s books, directing, writing and arranging music, teaching music, and listening for the Music of the Master’s voice. Among other things, Robin writes devotionals for the online magazine The Christian Pulse.

How to forgive myself

BY BRENDA LYSAK

I was miraculously healed of Crohn’s disease when I was twenty seven years old, eleven years after diagnosis. That was the first time I felt loved. Thus began about an eight year search for God. I started attending church again.

Remarkably I was invited by my banker, Dave to get right with God in an unusual way. This was about a three year business relationship. He treated me as an equal. I remember feeling normal around him, all the while on a downward spiral in my personal life.

I grew up in a home where we went to church three times a week but knew nothing of a relationship with God. It was an angry, abusive, and an emotionally neglectful environment. The only emotion I remember is hate. I hated anyone who might have had something to do with my existence.

One day as I sunk deeper into despair, I wailed to God to please help me to be born again; I felt too stupid to figure it out! Even though I had responded to alter calls in my youth, I was haunted by 2 Corinthians 5:17. “When you are born again the old passes away and everything becomes brand new.” The old had instead gotten older and there was certainly no sign of anything new. I experienced deep disappointment with this awareness. I couldn’t give or receive love, was devoid of joy, hope, and faith. I was a very depressed, negative person.

Not too long after that desperate prayer, Dave told me that he knew something that would change my life. Read Romans chapters one through six every day for thirty days. He said that about day fifteen, I would start to get it. And that’s exactly what happened. Romans 1:19 says “God has shown who He is in Creation and written the truth on our hearts. Therefore you have no excuse.”

My moment of awakening is still very fresh in my memory. As I was reading I realized that I had excuses. Suddenly they felt evil. I was filled with enormous guilt, which opened my eyes for the first time to God’s remedy. Every aspect of being saved is addressed in those early chapters of Romans and I fed on those truths day after day, learning that believing is what saves me. Proof or good works are the result of believing.

Dave then encouraged me to add the corresponding chapter of Proverbs each day to the six chapters of Romans I was reading. After I had that down he added five chapters of Psalms. The Word became my daily lifeline. My mind was being washed with God’s ideas. The grip of despair lifted the moment I confessed sin of disbelief and began to trust and believe in God, but I would not realize that until months later.

I became aware of my sin, and lost my preoccupation with other peoples’ sin. This renewal was happening in spite of continued miserable circumstances surrounding me. I was engulfed with shame.

About three months later I realized that I loved God and understood that I had a relationship with Him. This awareness was new to me in every way as I had not experienced normal bonding with a parent.

After reading the whole book of Romans I went to the ‘card catalog’ at the beginning of my Bible to find the next book to read, just like I did at the library. I chose a book in the Old or New Testament and read it like I read any book. Some books of the Bible were short so I read them in a day. Others took several days. I checked each one off with a date as I finished them until I had read each of the sixty-six books.

This resulted in a new measuring stick for truth. I was surprised at God’s take on religion. The gospels give a quick picture of who God is. What a surprise to discover that losers such as myself were exactly who God was particularly interested in. I experienced emotional healing during this time. I had been numb or shut down inside. I can still remember the place and moment I noticed the absence of shame.

Ever since I experienced God through his Word, I have been amazed at the fads of Christianity that sweep through the Christian community. One such fad is the idea that I can forgive myself. I hear people talking about the need to forgive themselves but have not heard of anyone actually accomplishing it. The Bible never speaks of it. Perhaps it is impossible. When we confess our sins, according to 1 John 1:9 we are promised forgiveness. Forgiving ourselves ceases to be an issue.

I am excited that salvation is not just getting my big toe into Heaven someday, but it is for today. I discovered from reading books of the Bible like a book, Salvation is multifaceted; I can be saved from myself, and from situations with people, and from my past. I have no excuse, nor do I need one. I can become healthy and whole in every way.

Brenda Lysak 

I am a Preschool teacher and Certified Barton Tutor for Dyslexia. It's taken me a lifetime to crawl out of the pit I was born in and the ones I crawled in myself. My biggest step of healing after being born again in my spirit has been developing a career within my interests and abilities. I am very busy with teaching but still working out my salvation with fear and trembling. I love to ski when I get a chance to get outside. It helps speed up the long cold Manitoba winters.

INTERRUPTIONS OR OPPORTUNITIES?

By Sharon Wilhite

"Honey, can you make me a lunch?" "Mom, I don't understand this math
problem." Brrring - "Hi! This is so and so. Do you have a few minutes
to listen?" "Mom, look at what I colored." "Honey, I can't find any
socks in my drawer!" Brring - "This is the church prayer chain, could
you pray right now for so and so?" "Mom, what does 'purity' mean?"
"Honey, let me tell you about my day at work." And on and on it goes.

.Matthew 6:33-46 records the miracle of the feeding of the 5000.
Verses 30-32 give the prelude. The disciples were exhilarated but
exhausted. Jesus had trained and then finally sent the disciples out
two by two to do what He was doing - preaching, casting out demons,
and healing the sick in surrounding villages. Now, they had returned
and reported back to Jesus. They were depleted physically ("they had
no leisure so much as to eat") and spiritually.

Jesus invited them on a private retreat for 12 to "rest awhile," but
when they got there they found 5000 other folks waiting for them!!
Interruption or Opportunity? A time for Compassion or Complaining?
Jesus chose compassion and took the interruption as an opportunity to
teach a great multitude many things.

The day wore on until evening. The disciples were tired and
said,"Send them away." (Let them go and feed themselves!) Jesus said,
"Sit them down and give them something to eat" before they go home
(YOU feed them). The disciples could only come up with a little food,
but Jesus blessed that little amount and used it to feed thousands.

Result? Instead of a Retreat for 12, it became a Revival and Refreshment for over 5000!!

Refreshment for the disciples? There were exactly enough leftovers
for each disciple to have a basketful - a "doggy basket," if you
please!

Reminder for all of us? "And when He had sent them away (fed), He

(Jesus) departed into a mountain to pray." Jesus needed some quiet

time with His Father. At the end of a busy day full of interruptions,

teaching opportunities, feeding my family, etc., I need to send everyone away - ha! - or put them to bed!

Then I need to find a quiet place to spend talking to my Heavenly Father Who never minds the interruption, won't tell me to go elsewhere to be fed, fills me up tooverflowing through His Word and prayer, and will send me away refreshed to face another day!

"Facebook is shutting down!! 3/11/11!!"

By Charis Seeley

If you have email, you’ve received chain mail. Chain mail consists of those horrible letters people send out en masse, usually to warn you of a nonexistent event or to aid a fictitious child. The most annoying people in an address book are the ones who only send these useless, false messages. If you’re like me, you’ve fantasized about sending them the worst chain mail ever written. So, I took stock of my e-mail, and what’s been born bears a strong resemblance to Frankenstein’s monster. While I can’t claim the following to be “The Worst Ever”, it’s certainly the most outrageous I’ve ever read.


---

Attention Friend!

Due to the internet’s popularity, email has become over crowded! All email providers will be deleting any accounts that receive this email and do not forward it to all their contacts! You MUST forward this to EVERYONE you know, or they will think your account is UNNACTIVE!

Two weeks ago, a friend of mine was going to the grocery store. She got out of the car, locked it with her remote, and walked into the store. But before she even got a cart, she realized she left her grocery list in the car. When she went back out, there was a man in her car! He had used an electronic code grabber when she locked her car, and was stealing her GPS, phone charger, coupon books, you name it! She was able to scared him off with her keychain pepper spray. Frightened, she drove off and onto the highway.

She wasn’t on the highway for 5 minutes when an unmarked cop car flashed his lights at her. Still frightened from the thieving man, she remembered an email I sent her the week before. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed *77 and got the local police dispatcher. The man over the phone told her it WASN’T a cop behind her, and she should keep driving. When the imposter realized she wasn’t going to pull over, it sped up and began pacing her. The car was full of gang members! They opened fire on her! Still on the phone with the police dispatcher, she ducked behind the wheel until they passed. One of the bullets was contaminated with semen, it pierced her abdomen and she is now pregnant with a gang baby!

An ambulance came to get her, and at the hospital she gave her statement to the police. They said there are a lot of new gangs in the area, and they’re all doing initiations. The Police Impersonation isn’t their only tactic. The police warned her that these gangs will be doing more shooting in the coming weeks. Their targets include young mothers and their children at Wal-Mart and any cars who flash their high-beams on the highway to alert the gang that their headlights are off. The police also said these gangs have been known to use elderly people in distress and the audio recording of a crying baby to lure women out of their homes and into unsafe areas! My brother’s, mother-in-law’s, youngest daughter’s son is in one of these gangs, and he says no one is safe during initiation!!

We aren’t the only ones experiencing this wave in violence, it’s happening all over the country. Presently, in an effort to help, Bill Gates will donate .01 cents to fighting crime for every time this email is sent. It may not seem like much, but if it saves even one life it is WORTH IT!

Fortunately, there is also a Nigerian Prince who is helping the fight against violence. He will match anything you send by 1,000%. If you donate just $5, he will donate $5,000! Just e-mail GregUdofia@NPSN.com with your full name, credit card info (number and date!!), social security number, maiden name, home phone number, cell phone number, home address and work schedule! This information will make the transaction smoother, and it’s completely safe!

I know 97% of the people who read this won’t pass it on, even though it is GOD’s will!! If you’re part of the 4% that love and fear GOD pass this to everyone you know! If you don’t, then you HATE GOD!! Pass it on to all your friends/family/children/coworkers/wives and especially all the women you know!

Let’s put an end to code grabbing, coupon thieving, police impostering, bullet babies, and Wal-Mart gang initiations!!! If you don’t know very many people, send it to the same people over and over again!

I Don’t Like Spam

…pure doggerel from the pen of Robin J. Steinweg


I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the taste.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—the time that it wastes.

Whether pink and wet and slimy or not,

Ground or sliced, cold or hot—

Innocent-looking but nasty inside,

When I see Spam I want to hide.

I don’t like Spam.

I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the feel.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—the rot it can conceal.

To get Spam in a can, you must drive somewhere.

Spam in my e-mail floats in on the air.

Spam in a can is a choice you can make.

Spam in my e-mail sneaks in like a snake.

I don’t like Spam.

I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the smell.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—makes me wanna yell.

Gelatinous mass of unpleasant stuff

                       Or

Abominable tonnage of verbal duff…

              I don’t like Spam.

Spam in an e-mail can bear my name.

It can look like one thing yet be nothing the same.

But Spam in a can you cannot disguise;

Chop, grind or casserole it, your nose will be wise.

So if the time came that I must choose
Between Spam in a can and the Not-so-nice News,
I think that I might just make the choice
To toss my can opener… and lose my voice.

                       I don’t like Spam!

EPILOGUE: I loved my password. I called it my own from the first e-mail I ever wrote. My fingers flew over the keys to type it. It was a word that had fond associations for me. I loved my password. Then one day a Spam message arrived with my return address on it. I opened it, curious. My own face smiled at me from a message I would not dream of typing. I was forced to rummage in the attic of rejected possibilities for a new password. Alas.

Though I might reflect on the futility of railing at Spam with my words, the exercise has at least given vent to my feelings. I have taken a stand against both a culinary fixture of my parents’ generation, and against one of mine. Then or now, I don’t like Spam.

Robin J. Steinweg delights in the Lord homeschooling; writing children’s books; directing, writing and arranging music; teaching students 5-85; leading worship; and listening for the Music of the Master’s voice. Among other things, Robin writes devotionals for the online magazine The Christian Pulse.