Do something

We don't have to feel powerless in the face of suffering.   What do we do in the midst of tragedy?  Ed Stetzer has offered some suggestions. Click here to read more.  Broken World
 I have shared a portion of his article.

"We sense inside us a God-given desire to alleviate as much pain as possible with the tools and opportunities God has placed at our disposal. We hate watching people suffer from the debilitating effects of evil in the world. We want to see fallen and broken world, with its hurt and pain, driven back and overthrown. Yet, we can be pretty good at drowning out our heart's compassion with large doses of television and distractions, but deep down we want to be part of making a difference in others' lives.

So, don't just watch the television news. Do something to change the broken world-- show and share the love of Jesus. Again. More.

The hurting world needs God's people living as those who care, because we do care. We can't fix everything, but we can do something.

Let's grieve with and pray for the hurting. Let's call the world what it is-- broken. Then, let's recommit ourselves to living for Jesus and others in a broken world.

Hold your kids, cling to Jesus, and cry out, "Your Kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." Maranatha."

On and on again

We chaps over here never cease to marvel at you guys’ attitudes to guns. Once again, more horrific news headlines this week of yet another school shooting in USA, made all the more poignant because of the young age of the victims, and of the time of year, Christmas.

Everyone can’t have failed to have been horrified and distraught when confronted by the pictures of grieving parents, and photos of tiny tots, who should have been starting out on life, only to have their futures so brutally and senselessly snuffed out, by some strange, disaffected and disturbed individual who had ready access to lethal weaponry to sate his blood lust and wreak terrible revenge on others.

And yet, these grim headlines have become commonplace. Columbine, Aurora, Virginia Tech, shopping malls, church prayer meetings, and many, many more, including of course, perhaps the worst of all, and plumbing even greater depths of depravity, Newtown.

Certainly, the pro-gun lobby is on the back foot, pledging ‘meaningful dialogue’, and a fresh look at gun ownership, but one wonders if this will blow over as the immediate horror fades into memory, and the status quo will prevail.

Why oh why are you fellows so wedded to your weapons? The Second Amendment is history….written at a time when society was very different from today. Surely you don’t love your guns more than your children, for that’s how it seems to us on this side of the Atlantic?

You can never legislate for the mentally disturbed, and guns are available in both our countries, to folk who will seek them out. But surely we should make it as difficult as possible to obtain them, and some high-power automatic weapons are simply not appropriate for private ownership.

Come on America. Wake up and smell the coffee. Parents, rise up! Make Newtown memorable for being the last such mass shootings, so that those poor children and their bereft parents have something positive come out of their misery.

Across the pond Penny

"On and on and on"

Well, you guys finally got around to electing your President, and are we Brits glad it’s all over for another four years! You take so long over it, and take it all so seriously; as if it were a matter of life and death! As if it really mattered who is in charge! We chaps are much more cynical and (let’s face it), realistic. We believe that whoever governs, they are all just as bad. Nothing will really change. The real power is in the hands of multi-million pound corporations and big business. Presidents and Prime Ministers are nothing more than figureheads, with very limited influence. Why, we wonder, are you all so idealistic? Why do you continue to set such store by it all? To get so exercised by it? Have you not learned from past experience? And the worst thing is that we have been having chapter and verse of it for the past six months. It was beginning to feel as though we were the 51^st state of the USA; as if we didn’t have any news of our own on this side of the pond.

You see, we go about it all quite differently. And I’d like to bet (though I’m not a gambler) that you don’t get all our electioneering every time you turn on your TVs. Huh? No. I thought not!

Of course, unlike you, we’ve got Madge. (For the uninitiated, that’s Her Majesty).

And we elect Members of Parliament. At least, those of us who can still be bothered to vote at all. 

And then the party with the greatest number of votes forms the next government, and they elect their leader, taking account of the views of their supporters and, in the case of the Labour Party, trade union membership.  It all over in a relative blink of an eye, and with so much less fuss and who ha. And we don’t inflict it on you!

Anyway, that’s quite enough of that! On to more important things, and now your elections are over, to some unwelcome news which, for the second time this year is making headlines here. The weather. November has seen almost continuous rainfall, and many poor folk have had their homes flooded for the second or third time in a few short months. You may recall from my previous submission that the British summer 2012 was the wettest for one hundred years. Now we are informed by the Met. Office that November was Britain's wettest ever, with an average of 217.4 mm of rain across the UK. Some places had a whole month’s worth in just one day, and at least two people lost their lives in the flooding. The emergency services have been at full stretch, rescuing stranded people and pumping out affected houses. Thousands of people are now facing a massive clear-up, the prospect of being homeless for Christmas, due to uninhabitable housing, and the likelihood of being unable to insure their properties in future. The boffins have promised us a spell of cold, winter, but thankfully DRY weather over the next few days, but the ground is so sodden that any amount of rain in the near future will no doubt result in further problems. Roll on spring 2013.The sooner this year is over, the better, though it won’t quickly be forgotten. So you see, it’s hard to know what holds the record for going on and on the most. Our lousy weather, or your boring Presidential elections!

 Across the pond...Penny

Help from friends

 November's Cooking Light Lunch... See the Thanksgiving Plate

Last week I sent out an email requesting help with a recipe. I was  preparing dressing for Thanksgiving dinner.  I could tell something was wrong. To the rescue…Cooking Light BFF Ruth Anne.   Yes, add more chicken broth!   Yes! It works.  Turn off the computer. Later in the day, I turn on my computer. Ginny shares add chicken broth and butter. Becky… yes…. In the midst of the day, they took time to help me. 

For years, I would ask my mother for her recipe. I never got it right. After she was no longer available, I tried many recipes. This year, Jerry gently suggested I try a recipe he found.  This brings me to Thanksgiving morning and the email. Who do I contact in the middle of preparing a recipe? Cooking Light friends! Who do you call when you need help?   Who supports your efforts? Who is your prayer partner? 

Friends, Christie and Stan...
Wonderful friends who traveled to support my exhibit earlier this month.

Friendship Tea

Do you begin your day with a cup of tea? Or maybe you enjoy your tea in the afternoon. What is more comforting and relaxing than a cup of tea? My answer is to share a pot of tea with a friend.

On Tuesday afternoon, I enjoyed  tea and lunch with a friend. We lingered over our tea and salads.

Shopping after tea is always a good idea. 

The Best and the worst

We Brits are feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. We may be small, but we can certainly put on a show! First the Diamond Jubilee celebrations, then the Olympic Games, and now, the Paralympics. Even people not wildly into sport had to admit it was good. Folk were helpful, friendly and tolerant. The 80,000 (mainly) British supporters who crowded into the stadium each day, cheered not just for their fellow countrymen and women, but for all the valiant athletes who took part. They were fair-minded and generous in their support and admiration. The newspaper coverage was all positive. ‘The best games ever’. For once, I was proud to be a Brit. Yes indeed, the games brought out the best in everyone. Or almost everyone.

It’s a shame that such occasions can bring out the best, but sadly, the worst in folk. Take the experiences of my acquaintance, Anne, who was one of the volunteer ‘gamesmakers’, who gave up three weeks of the summer by performing all the necessary background, unseen task  to help keep things running smoothly. They had no say in what role they were given. Anne was assigned to be a driver, to ferry VIPs around the various venues.

“To be honest, I wasn’t too pleased to get that particular job”. She told us. “In my opinion, no-one is more important than anyone else. We are all equal in God’s eyes”.

But one small perk of being a volunteer was that she got to watch some of the events when time allowed. Anne witnessed the long jump for blind competitors. To someone with reasonable eyesight, it is almost inconceivable to think that anyone with near total blindness would be able to perform this particular event, and so Anne described to us in great detail, just how they overcame their disability with the assistance of guides and mentors. The huge crowd was asked to be quiet so that the athlete could hear his/her cue.

“It was truly amazing to experience that. The overwhelming noise in the stadium fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.The request was universally respected.”

 Then, these unsung heroes, the mentors and guides first positioned the athletes at the end of the runway, then stood at the far end, immediately in front of the pit, and with a series of claps, getting faster as the jumper neared the take-off point, helped indicate the progress up the runway, before stepping out of the way when the athlete hit the board and launched into the unknown.

“Such implicit trust in another.” Anne marvelled.”It was a most humbling thing to see.”

But then, there was the VIP……The BMW 5 series that had been allocated for Anne’s use was kept in the car pool. Each time it was taken out, it had to be security checked, and likewise, on its return. Most of the Olympic venues were within easy walking distance of .the main stadium, but to drive there was quite a different proposition, which involved leaving the pool, going through the security checks, driving a circuitous, one-way route around part of London, to re-enter the complex at the far side, on to the destination, then back to the pool and check-in.

Anne did this jaunt many times, and got quite used to both the procedures and that particular part of the capital city.

One evening, having arrived to take a certain individual to his venue, she was told she could hand over the keys, since he would be wanting to use the vehicle later. This was against all the Olympic protocol, so Anne had to tell him this wasn’t possible, and that she must return the car to the pool. And besides, the particular destination this time was, according to Anne, no more than 500 yards away, it was a beautiful summer’s evening, so not unreasonably, she suggested it might be more sensible to walk, rather than have to go through all the above. He declined and insisted on being chauffeured there.

 “I couldn’t help but be struck by the huge differences in attitudes, between the brilliant athletes, who had trained for years under the most trying of circumstances, probably at huge cost, their guides, who got no recognition for their vital role, but without whose help the long jumpers couldn’t function, and the self-importance of some people who had money, status and no such physical disadvantages. In situations like that, you certainly see the best and the worst in people!”

Across the pond... Penny

Searching for Self

One of my favorite hobbies is shopping.  Not just any kind of shopping, I'm talking high end shopping, handbags, shoes, jewelry, you name it, I have a love affair with all things fashion.  Yesterday I spent some time at the mall.  While at the mall, I had the opportunity to spend time with items from my favorite designers, Michael Kors, Coach, Gucci and several others.  I cannot explain to you the feeling of exhilaration that overcomes me as I pick up each pair of shoes, or carry each handbag.  There is something about finely crafted leather handbags and beautiful shoes that just draw me to them.  I imagine all things beautiful in my closet which has been designed to look slightly like a little boutique.  Every handbag on display.  The scent of channel #5 greets me as I enter the doorway of my own little retreat.

But, here is the question I began to ponder.  Beyond the handbags, jewelry and shoes, how have I truly defined myself?  As I continue to add to the collections in my closet, how have I further defined my life and my sense of self?  just how many handbags can I carry at one time?  Just how much jewelry do I truly need?  What is truly driving all of these purchases?  I call it a hobby.  But I am pondering, is it a hobby or a habit?  Do I do this for me or for others?  I am not certain at this point.  I know that I love fashion.  However, I am wondering how much does the fashion define me?

As I continue this journey into self reflection, I must be honest and say that I left the mall with yet another Michael Kors handbag.  It's Fall and for each season, I typically purchase a new handbag.  Oh, I'm not there yet, I said I am searching for self, I haven't completely found myself yet.  Maybe I am inside a handbag!

Summoned by Bells, (With apologies to John Betjeman)

Summoned by Bells. (With apologies to John Betjeman).

"Well, the 2012 Olympics have come and gone, and speaking as a patriotic Brit, I’m pretty happy with the way we chaps performed, both in terms of the sporting achievements, and the overall organisation.

To come third on the medals table to the two giants of USA and China was quite a feat for a small nation like us. What’s more, when it comes to the Three Bs. We can teach the rest of the world a thing or two. (For the uninitiated, I of course mean Bikes, Boats and Boxing). Yes, no one can hold a candle to us in the velodrome, on the water or in the boxing ring, and we’re feeling smug that we even managed to tame the weather to behave itself for the duration.

The Opening Ceremony was deliciously quirky, and fun, as was something you guys across the pond didn’t know about, but which typifies our eccentricity as a nation. And I’m talking about bells.

“Any Bell. Anyone. Anywhere. 08:12 27th July At 08:12 this morning hundreds of thousands of people across the United Kingdom rang bells to celebrate the first day of the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games, in a mass participation artwork by Turner Prize winning artist Martin Creed, commissioned by the London 2012 Festival.

This unique London 2012 Festival commission is one of the festival’s biggest nationwide community projects. It offered everyone in the UK the amazing opportunity to be part of a work by a Turner Prize-winning artist and of the historic celebrations for London 2012.”

Big Ben tolled forty times that morning, too, so anyone hoping for a time-check would have been out of luck. And the only Brit ever to win the Tour de France, one Bradley Wiggins, rang the huge bell in the Olympic stadium, to signal the start of the games.

Even yours truly dashed out into me back garden (‘yard’, to you folk. By the way, a yard is something different over here; namely a paved or tarmaced area, usually without plants, lawns and flowers. A garden, however, has these.) Yes, there I was, in my housecoat and slippers, clutching the bell my husband bought me as a joke and dinging it like crazy for all I was worth.

Culture Secretary, Jeremy Hunt got in trouble as a result of his enthusiasm. He was paying a visit to HMS Belfast when the time came to join the communal ringing, and gave his small handbell a vigorous ring, only to discover that though the ship he was on board was the Belfast, his particular bell wasn’t fast. The handle remained in his hand, whilst the bell flew through the air, narrowly missing several bystanders. Having checked that nobody had been injured, Mr Hunt laughed it off, comparing it with an incident from a UK comedy called Twenty Twelve."
Entry by Penny...

Penny is the lovely lady on the left.
Picture was taken in 2007 at my home.

Back to school

I enjoy preparing for a new school year. One of the best parts of each school year, everyone begins with a fresh slate.  A close second… new school supplies… paper, folders, pencils, markers, crayons, binders, new classrooms, and new students…

Yesterday afternoon, I met students who will be in my classroom. Later in the day, I attended a community workshop, Empowering our Children: A Community Conversation.  I am happy to resume the comfort of school routines. I am back to preparing lessons plans, taking attendance, and reviewing homework.

This morning, I volunteered to pick up International Students at the airport.  The entire community is gearing up for a new school year. 

Back to School Shopping

Remember the thrill of back to school shopping?  New clothes, shoes, backpacks all in preparation for that first day of school.  So thrilling to run into your friends as you were shopping and see what outfits they were selecting.  Now, back in the day, not too far back, we just went where our parents took us.  We rode in the car and wherever the car arrived, we were happy.  I remember a store called Air Way, kind of like a version of Target.  That was a back to school tradition.  Then, there was the mall, we'd spend a small amount of time there, in stores such as JCPenny and the Gap.

Now, fast forward to today.  I have to complete 3-4 rounds of shopping.  We visit at least 8 different stores.  And then, there's the fashion!   Don't get me wrong, I love it, but there is no simplicity in this activity.  The influence of the Disney Channel and all of the other channels that expose our children to fashion. Some parents have told me that they are glad their children have to wear uniforms.  Well,  I prefer individuality to uniformity any day of the week.  I have two little fashionistas at my house, a mix between rocker meets school girl and a edgy want to be goth mixed with edgy school girl.  

After all, the world is not uniform.  There are all different kinds of people, clothing, etc.  Everybody can't have everything.  I figure, better to learn now how to cope with difference, no matter how small.  I always wonder what happens when children go out into the world and realize that everybody is not  just alike, everybody doesn't get a trophy at the end of the game, sometimes, you have to compete, the world doesn't cater to us as individuals, we have to learn to find our own place in this world.  Oh well, enough of my seriousness, this is about fashion.

Oh, and did I mention that the Coach store has backpacks now!  Oh, I wish I was going to school!

Pictures posted later this week.

baby love

Months before my daughter was born, I saw her on a sonogram. Holding her for the first time my heart melted. Seeing her face for the first time was amazing. So beautiful.  Her smooth caramel colored skin was silky smooth.  Her tiny body fit neatly in my arms.  Baby love…

Visiting last week in Omaha, I was struck how much she reminded me of her baby face. It was something… her hairstyle… She still has wonderful smooth skin.  She informs me… it is because she is eating clean… no processed food, no sugars, fresh fruit and vegetables.

 Every night before she was born, I prayed, God please give me the strength to be a good parent. I am blessed. God abundantly provided my every need.  I read books, sought advice, attended Le leche League meetings, and listened.  Check out le leche league here Milk

I was not the perfect parent… no one is…

Although my children are now adults, I still have baby love.

This week marks the le leche league's  20th year  of world  breastfeeding week ... 

Coming Out of the Closet

As with any type A personality, I continuously have a list of some type.  Well, this week, during my week off from work, I have had a household to do list.  Today, I was determined to conquer the linen closet.  Thus, the title, coming out of the closet, the linen closet that is!  I pondered as I reviewed the contents of this closet.  We have one king sized bed and two twin beds.  Then why, do we have over 20 sets of king sized sheet sets and at least 10 sets of twin size sheets.  Those sheets are accompanied by approximately 12 comforter sets and multiple blankets.  Is it because of Oprah?  You know, all those times, when she did shows telling me that I needed sheets that had at least 500 thread counts or more?  Or when I watched those shows that said I needed Egyptian cotton sheets?  Or, was it when they had the white sales at Macys?

All of this linen made me wonder, just how much linen is necessary for three beds?  But more importantly, what else is in the closets of my life, taking up space and for what reasons?  What was the significant event or moment in my life that caused me to put that item in my closet and even more importantly, what continues to allow me to let it remain there?  Do I even know what is in those closets?  Do I have a plan to remove those items and take inventory?  As I removed each piece of linen from the closet, I had to decide what to do with it, and where it would be stored if it remained.

I believe the linen closet is a little like my life right now.  I am removing things and taking inventory of what is there and why some things are the way they are.  Sometimes, I have been guilty of saying, "Well, that's just the way I am".  However, recently, I begun to take things out of the closet and understand why I am the way I am and understand what I truly want to remain in my personal closets and what has seen the end of its time and may be more useful to someone else.

The Cement Truck and Other Fun Things I Learned From My Grandmother

Well, today, as I drove my oldest daughter to performing arts camp, I saw it, the cement mixer truck.  I told my kids, "You better be good, because in that truck are all the bad children that have been picked up along the way.  The driver's name is Barnabas."  That was how my grandmother got all of us kids to be quiet in the car when she was driving us around town!  My kids were laughing hysterically.  What else did your grandmother tell you, my children asked.  I thought about it and as I thought about all of the costly activities that we afford our children, I thought about all of the inexpensive, low or no cost activities that my brother and sister and I did with my grandmother and mother.

I recall my first library book, Anne of Green Gables.  I went with my grandmother to the Plainfield public library and picked out this book, while my grandmother picked out her books.  Then, we took our books home and I sat under the tree and read that book over and over again.  Then, there were all of the local parades that we waited for each year.  There wasn't a Wii or an X-box, an IPOD  or 200 channels to choose from, just family to hang out with and friends to talk to.  I also remember riding my bike with my close friends and not worrying about being abducted by some crazed maniac!

Oh, the sporting activities, my brother and sister and I did the traditional things, cheerleading, football, gymnastics, and baseball.  My children, soccer, karate, gymnastics, cheerleading, swimming and dance.  Of course not all at the same time, but some of it was at the same time and some was at the same time as drama, piano, children's choir, girl scouts and percussion ensemble!  My question here, is do we now over schedule our children and why do we do this?  I understand my logic.  Part of my believe is that the world has become so much more complicated than the world I initially described.  Complicated and competitive.  I wonder, if our children, my children are to compete, how important is it for them to gain exposure to a great deal at a young age and begin perfecting that skill at an older age?

Ok, back to nostalgia!  The simpler life that I believe I enjoyed was one that, while uncomplicated by stuff, still, had its share of difficulties, as I am sure many of your lives did also.  But, as for the uncomplicated days spent with my grandmother, making tents during raining days, sitting in her small house, with no air condition on hot summer days, as she made fudge.  Picking mulberries from the mulberry tree and pretending to make wine for our pretend church communion.  Those were some good times!

I hope I am making some uncomplicated moments and memories for my children, in the midst of all of our over scheduled and hectic days!  Today for fun, we made a money tree at Steak and Shake!  While waiting at the drive thru, we took pennies and placed them carefully on the leaves of the bushes that lined the drive thru!  Now, that was fun!

Penny's First Post

"We Brits are obsessed with the weather. The rest of the world knows that. It’s easily the most popular topic of conversation. You might assume that given what a special year this is for us on this side of the pond, we’d be discussing the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, and the Olympics, but no, as usual, it’s the weather.

In Britain, we get a lot of weather. OK, maybe it’s not BIG weather like yours. We have the occasional mini tornado, which might lift a few roof tiles or uproot the odd tree. But they’re certainly not five miles wide and totally devastating, like some of yours. And as for hurricanes, well, we know nothing of them. So why the obsession? Well, though we live in a temperate climate, most years, no two days in Britain are the same, so the weather certainly keeps us on our toes, so to speak.

Months which in theory should be expected to be spring-like, quite often are not. And winters are not always wintery.Take March, for instance. We had a fortnight (fourteen nights, or two weeks) of temperatures in the 80s. And the last two weeks in May were the same. As a result, a hosepipe ban was introduced in many parts of the country, to conserve precious water supplies.

 But in case we got too used to basking and relaxing in the sun, Mother Nature had a joke at our expense and brought us back down to earth with a bang. The start of June saw black, threatening clouds and cool temperatures. For three solid months we’ve had nothing but lowering skies and interminable rain. People’s moods have been affected profoundly by the lack of sunshine and day after day of driving rain. Yes, we know we are lucky to have adequate water, unlike millions in the Third World, but you can have too much of a good thing.

 The Jet Stream, which most folk had never heard of six months ago, was to blame; we were informed by the meteorologists. Now, I warrant, not a single citizen above the age of five isn’t familiar with its vagaries. To anyone working in the tourist industry, booking a holiday in Britain or living (as I do) on low-lying ground, the Jet Stream became public enemy Number One.

People living in the picturesque Yorkshire town of Hebden Bridge was flooded three times in two weeks, and scores of garden parties, summer fetes and festivals were cancelled due to flooding or acres of mud, making access impossible. So far, three-quarters of the way through July,-2012 has been a miserable summer, or more accurately, a non-existent one. But joy of joy, we are assured that that pesky Jet Stream is moving north, and we can expect more seasonal weather next week.

As I write this, it is pouring down."

Penny