“Oh this one is too squishy! Ugh! This one is like sleeping on a rock! Hey, now this one is a perfect combination, not too hard and not too soft! It’s like being on a cloud.” Mattress shopping can be a bit overwhelming but mom, my cousin, and I made it fun as we rolled around on all the beds in the affordable corner of the show room. We finally chose one that was “just right“. I couldn’t help but think how we were like three Goldilocks testing and evaluating each one. It seems the famous fairytale has become ingrained in our culture as we are always trying to obtain what feels just right – jobs, relationships, our identity, churches, etc. God reminds us not to give too much merit to our feelings when we are making a decision because feelings change. And we all have different views and feelings on subjects. Instead, He encourages us to constantly seek what HE tells us is “just right”. Proverbs chapter 3:5-6 “Trust the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.“ Goldilocks has even found her way into science. There is a theory called the Goldilocks Zone or Principal that accurately describes physical laws that govern the universe down to the minute detail being exactly what we need for life to exist. We are the precise distance from the sun to be warm enough like Goldilocks’ porridge… Not too hot and not too cold but just right. Back to the mattress selection—it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the importance of where we sleep. Mom always said, “If you can simply get enough rest you can handle almost anything the next day. “ It’s true, operating on little sleep can make even small setbacks or challenges seem overwhelming. As kids we didn’t care much where we slept. Youths are resilient like that. We slept anywhere, even on a hot beach crammed in the truck bed on a mattress packed tightly with piled up bags of vacation clothes…and lots of sand. Once my daughter was at a sleepover and said she got cold in the night and had to sleep under a sheer curtain still on the rod that she found stashed in a closet. And my cousin Brenda once complained about her pillow, observing it had large chunks of cut up couch foam in it. I remember raising up my pillow from across the room offering it to her. I held it high in the air between two fingers and we both fell into a fit of giggles when she saw it was about as thick as a piece of cardboard. We were in good company—In Genesis 28:11 and 18 Jacob used a stone for a pillow. In 1 Samuel 19:13 Michael used a pillow and mattress of goats hair. And in psalm 6:6 there was mention of a tear soaked pillow. Tears or sleep-slobbers aside, Hank Locklin wrote a famous country song asking his darlin to send him the pillow that she dreamed on so he could dream on it too… The pillows and mattresses in the show room all promised rest, but we three seekers knew how to wade through to find truth. False claims in life might distract us but Jesus said come to Him and He will give us true rest. The Doobie Brothers 1972 hit lyrics using slang of the decade to mean cool say: “Jesus is just alright with me”. But let’s let Goldilocks attitude take the commitment one level higher— when faced with a showroom of options, I find Jesus to be “Just Right!” And that’s better than a dream come true.
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Did you ever see a toad jump into the swamp or throw a rock into the river and appreciate the concentric circles from the ripple effect? Country kids learn very early how even the smallest of things influence what’s around it. In addition to water, we can also see concentric circles in wood. It’s amazing how each ring tells a chapter (or year) in the tree’s story. One particular tree that could have a novel was the historic Webster Sycamore in Webster Springs, WV. It was not cut during the 1920-50’s timber boom but was left standing as a testament to the virgin forests that once covered the entire state. When my kids were little we visited Big Sycamore Park and had our photo taken with the natural celebrity, and like all special things, we miss it now that it’s gone. The tree had to be felled in 2010 due to its unsafe condition but in its heyday it stood 112 feet tall with a girth circumference of 25.75 ft. It dated back to 1508, making it over 500 years old. Imagine the story it told in those circle lines! Dart boards, targets, simple garden onions and planetary orbits around the sun are also concentric circles, but still the most common are water ripples. The “ripple effect” is actually a theory that occurs when an initial disturbance spreads outward to disturb an increasingly larger portion. Here’s a family vacation story that gives the theory credence. We were enjoying a break from the New Jersey beach and decided to go shopping. Jeff was in charge of our son who was only two, while I chose our daughter who was slightly older and a better shopper. As we made our way through the sea of bathing suits, our son darted in and out of the circular clothing racks like a quick elusive sand crab. I could tell my husband was having a difficult time keeping up with him but I didn’t look back—until I heard a loud desperate “WHOOOOOAH!” Guessing it was coming from my crew, I slowly turned around and saw Jeff feverishly struggling with a scantily clad mannequin our son had pushed over. His steely eyes of determination told me our family could still walk out with a sliver of dignity-- if only she didn’t touch the floor! And so they “danced” like Whirling Dervishes. Onlookers gasped as he made his heroic Super Bowl save. I laughed until I cried, because I’m supportive like that. As we herded our troops proudly out the door, I stole a glance back and noted the forlorn mannequin’s bikini top hung down around her waist and her disheveled wig was sideways! Yes, sometimes a disturbance spreads out and affects what’s around it. In Beth Guckenberger’s book Throw the First Punch she writes about brave biblical David, who threw a stone which didn’t disturb water but still caused an epic ripple effect. With it he slayed the giant and saved his people, and preserved the lineage of Jesus. Guckenberger says, “When I think about the stone I can throw, I inventory the gifts, abilities, resources, experiences, and tools in my hand I can raise against our enemy (satan)” What “rocks” do we possess that could cause a ripple effect for generations of purpose? Usually we think of the initial disturbance coming from an outside source, i.e. a two-year-old or a stone thrown. But recently I photographed our now grown daughter in the middle of the pond and considered how in life’s circumstances, sometimes it’s actually the thing in the middle of the situation that can move to cause a ripple effect. What if, with the slightest movement, if we are brave enough to move, we might cause a life-altering ripple for good? So wherever change is needed—let’s put on our muck boots and step into it…and may the resulting concentric circles tell a new story. Before expensive suntan lotions, Mom and Aunt Hilda used good old- fashioned cow’s butter. They’d get all greased up and then go hoe corn… or lie on the tin porch roof. I’m not sure what SPF butter has but I’m confident in saying it can’t compete with the reflective properties of a tin roof. (A funny aside was a little incident concerning the sun-bathing roof. One morning, in their haste they emptied the chamber pot out the upstairs bedroom window. Unbeknownst to them, there was a man visiting Pap outside standing merely inches from the stream of “acid rain” pouring off the roof! It wasn’t addressed then and it probably shouldn’t have been now;) As a child, it was a big event to crawl out onto the porch roof to retrieve a badminton birdie or Frisbee. Sometimes we’d linger and survey the farm from our new perspective. My bed was next to a window directly over the porch so when it rained, that roof made music. When we played volleyball the rule was we played off the roof as it was still considered in-bounds. And the roof was an integral element to our favorite game of Annie Over. Sometimes roofing nails work themselves out of place and need hammered down. Recently terrible winds were blowing a large sheet of tin back and forth on the tractor shed. It was quite the rodeo ride but I finally got it secured thanks to Mom’s guidance on the ground. Parents are good at telling us where to put our feet for stability and what needs to be hammered in because they often see things we can’t. In 2 Samuel 11:2 a storm was brewing but it wasn’t wind…While strolling on his rooftop, King David spotted a woman next door bathing, which ultimately led his life on a trajectory riddled with bad decisions. The nails were coming out of his solid foundation. Lust can blow the roof off like a tornado if it’s not hammered down with some Godly nails. Then there was this group of men in Mark 2:4 and Luke 5:19 who didn’t repair the roof but actually tore it apart just so they could lower their buddy down through the hole. He was paralyzed and they knew he’d be healed if they could just get him to Jesus who was teaching inside the crowded house. Matthew 24:17, Mark 13:15, and Luke 17:31 all describe Jesus’ prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem in which He instructed the people to escape by fleeing along the rooftops quickly, not taking time to go down into their homes for any possessions. The houses were probably close together with flat roofs that made an elevated road of sorts. If God gives us a means of escape and tells us what path to take, we’d be wise to listen. One of my favorite images of a biblical rooftop is found in Acts 10:9, “On the next day, as they were on their way and approaching the city, Peter went up on the housetop about the sixth hour to pray.” It reminds me that we sometimes need to get a new perspective on things and prayer can help us do this. I accompanied our church youth group on a mission trip to Guatemala and it was a beautiful sight on our hotel roof. Teenagers were scattered about sitting quietly doing their morning devotions as the tropical sun began to warm the breeze blowing clouds around the dormant volcano in the background. This ole farmgirl appreciates a good roof. My hopes are that we all have one over our heads (or under our feet), have good friends who never give up on getting closer to Jesus, and that we seek scriptures to nail down truth in the storm or show us an escape route from destruction. I’d also propose if we do climb out on a roof, let’s leave the butter and take our bible. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not…I remember plucking out the velvety white daisy petals one by one as my best friend and I eagerly waited to see how my grade school crush felt about me. The truth would be revealed as the last petal was pulled. It was intense! But of course that was before cell phones and we were easily entertained with nature and simple things. Another important source of information was a dandelion. We’d blow on it and however many fluffy seeds were left on the ball represented how many children we were going to have one day. We’d go light-headed trying to blow them all off! These pretty yellow flowers, originally brought over with the first settlers, were once deemed valuable for food and medicine and popular in gardens in Europe. But then someone decided that a well-manicured lawn void of the free-spirited dandelions was a status symbol. Big herbicide companies have further brain-washed us into thinking they are annoying weeds. But the truth is dandelions are valuable pollinators! Even though they don’t require pollination to spread, they just avail themselves for the bees! And the entire plant is edible with considerable health benefits. My mom says we often have a greater appreciation for things the more we know about them. She’s thankful her teacher (and mother), Olga Balli-Harris, taught her students a new flower every day. They learned about the natural world on the hillside, in the woods, and field below their one-room school. Mom says to this day she can still identify many of the wildflowers on the farm because of her mom’s lessons. It’s satisfying if we can truly “see” what we’re looking at. Common flowers we see in the mountains are mayapples with their unmistakable umbrella shaped leaves. When Mom and her sister, Hilda, were young girls, they joined their cousins Edzel and Basil Pugh in a business venture digging mayapple roots. After the roots were dried on a tar-paper roof, the boys’ dad sold them at a farmers’ market in Weston. Story has it, to make the time go faster; the kids would play church while they dug. And one of them, (mom refused to name names to protect the “innocent”), could mimic a specific church elder praying with great enthusiasm and accuracy—even the tone of his voice. Speaking of voices, in scripture the voice of God has been represented by wind, sometimes strong and forceful and sometimes like a gentle breeze. John 3:8 “The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof…” Some scholars say “ the wind blows” really translates into “The Spirit breathes”. Can you imagine the power and purpose in the Breath of God? When the disciples were to scatter like dandelion seeds and plant the Gospel , Jesus breathed on them. “And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost.” (John 20:22) In 1962 Bob Dylan released a song, “Blowin’ in the Wind” which became an anthem for that era. It highlighted people’s lack of concern-- “How many times can a man turn his head and pretend he just doesn’t see?” And it highlighted spiritual blindness--“How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky?” Answers can be difficult to identify even when we’re looking right at them. But, if we listen for God’s voice, the truth can become as evident as dandelion seeds set in motion by a breath or a breeze. Allowing wind to symbolize the Holy Spirit, “The answer, my friend, is blowin in the Wind. The answer is blowin in the Wind.” And as for that daisy? I know when we pluck the LAST proverbial petal the answer will be as it always has been, “HE loves me.” My childhood teddy bear was Smokey Bear. I took lipstick and colored his paws red to represent burn marks and wrapped them in bandages just like rangers did in the book. The well-loved toy sits on a shelf in my bedroom back home and still if I see a costumed Smokey out and about, I’m a fangirl. The icon was created in 1944 in a joint effort by the U.S. Forest Service and the Ad Council to promote forest fire awareness and prevention. It must have worked as generations since have been singing Smokey’s song and pledging alongside him to practice fire safety. The slogan “Only YOU can prevent forest fires.” is etched in my brain. Fireflies have nothing to do with actual fire, and they aren’t really flies…but they do look like floating embers from a poked campfire. Growing up we used to smash them on our clothes and run around “glowing” excitedly, but that was before modern glow sticks and nowadays kids have more sense. It’s still cool to catch them in a Mason jar with holes in the lid and then release them the next day. During a recent warm spell, I saw the strangest thing. A lightning bug was trying to mate with a tiny LED bulb on a strand of outdoor lights. I never checked on it again but as I worked I wondered how long it stayed there. Did it ever move on to find something real??? And I realized God probably wonders the same thing about us…Are we attracted to things that aren’t real or aren’t true? Do our misguided thoughts override God’s plans for us and we miss out because we are cuddled up to an LED so to speak? I’m not sure why lightning bugs get to don the name lightning. They are gentle, twinkling, lights floating playfully around the fields. Lightning is a bit more intense (dangerous flashes of 100 million to 1 billion volts). Eight of my friends have been struck by lightning, and it probably has nothing to do with me. One was caught in an unexpected storm whilst on a boat fishing and made it to shore but got struck as he ran across the wooden dock. The nail he stepped on left a burn mark through his sneaker. The other seven were hiking on Grandfather Mountain in NC when a storm came out of nowhere and they all received secondary strikes. It’s real and it’s powerful, so we must never underestimate it. David poetically used mighty lightning to represent God’s thundering voice answering his cries for help when he was drowning in despair: 2 Samuel 22:14-18 “The Lord thundered from heaven, and the most High uttered his voice. And he sent out arrows, and scattered them; lightning, and discomfited them. And the channels of the sea appeared; the foundations of the world were discovered, at the rebuking of the Lord, at the blast of the breath of his nostrils. He sent from above, he took me; he drew me out of many waters; He delivered me…” We all face unexpected storms in life, and Easter reminds us that we can be rescued. It is also a time for us to come out of hibernation and consider the burning question of what to do with Jesus. How many eye witnesses does it take before we declare something true? Even a jury today would accept the 500 eyewitnesses recorded in 1 Corinthians 15:6 as proof. Did you know there is even more secular documentation of Jesus’ death and resurrection than records of Julius Caesar yet we don’t question Caesar’s existence? Yes, Jesus is real and we need to decide what to do with Him. When it comes to making the biggest decision of our life, let’s make sure the light we are drawn to is the true Light, and when it comes to preventing eternal fire, “Only YOU can…” The things we don’t do often shape us as much as the things we do experience. Our family never sat down and watched a football game on TV, nor did we drive to my high school an hour away to sit on cold bleachers under the Friday night lights. Organized sports were barely existent in our life, largely due to our longstanding tradition of uncommon fun. It goes back to my grandfather’s era when he and his buddies rode wild spirited cows for sport. My parents’ creative recreation involved Dad and his siblings riding a rickety handmade wooden wagon down the hill until it fell apart near the bottom. They also threw rocks at hornet’s nests. Mom recalls recess games like hide-and-seek, baseball, hopscotch, draw base, and bear base. One of the fun things my generation did during fifth grade rainy-day recess was dance to Elvis records. If the day was sunny, we’d go outside and play Four Square…or peel paint off the fence (which sounds a bit lack-luster now that I say it). When competitive sports were introduced into the school plan, I found myself standing out in right field praying the ball didn’t come to me. We also had a girls’ basketball team (if all seven of us girls played). We wore white Converse high top sneakers with no arch support and my glasses fogged up when I sweat. All this to say for someone limited in sports it has been most interesting to make recent observations from the outside looking in. It was a glorious Sunday when the Cincinnati Bengals won the playoff game sending us to the Super Bowl! The entire city came alive and joyful! That next day nobody even cared it was a Monday and everyone was talking to each other and laughing! A guy stocking grocery shelves and I had a giddy conversation about the game in the dairy aisle. “How about those Bengals?!” “Think we’ll win the Super Bowl?” “There’s always hope!” And strangers across this great nation greeted each other with a “Who Dey” as our collective battle cry. I continue to shake my head and marvel at the unbelievable power of football to boost morale and to bring humanity together. It’s almost spiritual. I’m not the first to connect sports with faith. In the late 70’s Bobby Bare sang a catchy little tune called Drop Kick Me, Jesus (Through The Goalposts Of Life). During a game, there are always questions about penalties and players, but as my loved ones explain the “doctrine”, the more invested I become. For this Super Bowl, I even bought a Bengals shirt for Pete’s sake! Spirit ware can be another element to consider. Am I wearing my Christian SPIRIT-wear? Is it holey? Holy? Or Wholly?...and am I wearing it inside out? Jesus lived it and Elvis sang it-- I Can Help because of A Little Thing Called Love. When the Bengals lost the Super Bowl some people got All Shook Up and checked into the Heartbreak Hotel. Some just wanted to Make The World Go Away. But standing in the Early Morning Rain Monday after the Super Bowl I Got A Feelin In My Body that there is a master game plan and we’ve Got A Lot Of Livin To Do! The LA Rams’ wide receiver, Cooper Kupp shared in an interview after they won how he had a vision from God three years earlier in which his team would win a Super Bowl and he’d be the MVP of the game, which he was. Knowing which team was going to win allowed him to play free, and as he put it, “from victory not for victory”. Now if we’re able to survive March Madness, Easter is coming--We can live free because we know who wins! And that, my friends, is the most beautiful Unchained Melody you’re ever going to hear. Many times on the farm you’re called to do a task that you’ve never done before. Occasionally it’s risky, but somebody has to do it. Mom and Aunt Hilda’s super power has always been the ability to talk us girls into doing these type of tasks. One in particular was painting tin roofs at the Balli Farm. Making themselves feel better, they’d agreed to stand safely on the ground and keep us anchored by holding the ladders. They even sweetened the pot by convincing us we could wear bathing suits and work on our tans. There was little opportunity to consider how our peers were tanning on relaxing on coastal beaches because we were too busy risking our lives. Painting along the top ridge roll and close to the edge was the most dangerous as we couldn’t easily move the ancient roof ladder (merely a meager wooden ladder with an extra board nailed at the end to catch over the roof comb). I remember at one point holding a paint brush in one hand and leaving the ladder to shimmy like a monkey to the edge and paint a hard-to-reach spot. Looking back, it’s a miracle we didn’t get hurt. The only casualty from that task was our sunbathing experience. Of course working atop giant sun reflectors all day, we got sun-burned…except for the spots that were covered by the thick silver aluminum fiber paint. One thing to note about my cousin Brenda and me, we were not neat girls, so you can imagine after cleaning off with gasoline, we had a good laugh admiring our red and white polka dot “tans”. There is real danger when living on the edge but half the battle is identifying it. When our daughter, Alex, was little and first moved to her “big-girl” bed we had a mesh net attachment that fit under the mattress on one side to prevent her from rolling off when she slept. She looked at it fearfully and finally asked, “Why do you put that net up? What are you trying to keep out of my bed?” She didn’t understand the protection or the danger of falling off the edge…and sometimes I bet we don’t either. That same little girl fearful of imaginary monsters under her bed matured, and learned discernment and bravery along the way. She jumped (voluntarily) out of an airplane for her 18th birthday. When asked if she was scared, she said not until she was right at the edge ready to jump. Again, it’s the edge that gets us. Last Sunday after church we lingered and talked to a beautiful grandmother, discussing the breathtaking photos her grandson in Arizona posts on social media…multi-colored canyons and wind-cut rock formations against perfect blue skies… The grandma shook her head telling us how she shudders each time she sees him close to the edge of a cliff, and he always dismisses her concern with an “I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing!” Maybe it was because we were in the Lord’s house, but I immediately felt a little self-conscience wondering how many times I’ve said the same thing to God. Living on the edge requires equal amounts of discernment and bravery…and trust. We must listen to the voice of wisdom drawing us back a few steps when we get too close. Or maybe we have to bravely take that next step. Just like my daughter Alex sky-diving in tandem with a professional, the good news is we don’t have to take that leap of faith alone. Isaiah 41:13 “For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.” It’s comforting to realize even if we don’t know what we are doing all the time, like two country girls on a hot tin roof, there is Someone who does. People who say “everything in moderation” aren’t thinking it through. Ingesting gasoline or wearing fire ants “in moderation” isn’t wise. Having said that, desiring balance does often mean we seek moderation. Going home for Christmas this past December reminded me of the difficulties of moderation. For us suburban family members, ruined by the limitations of electric heat, it took a few days to acclimate to wood and coal, which is very effective yet hard to moderate. Christmas sweaters frothed a person into a constant sweat, and woe to those of us openly experiencing hormonal hot flashes. (We nearly burst into flames!) Years ago my cousin and her newly wedded husband had to occupy the same room as her parents because every bed was full. Adding to the discomfort, it was also the room the stove pipe ran through. Back in those days I think we burned bituminous coal and in order to get the downstairs comfortable, we stoked that old Warm Morning stove until the pipes almost glowed…and heat rises. Now picture my cousin’s city-slicker groom upstairs in the hot stovepipe room, under a couple Swiss wool “comforters” dealing with the various sleep sounds of his nearby in-laws. When he was no longer able to suffer in silence, he declared in a fever pitch “It’s like sleeping on the surface of the sun!” Sometimes we strive for moderation, but things can easily get out of hand…apparently like my food intake. Recent blood work showed climbing numbers and my doctor said I had to make a change. I told her I was pretty sure I was already in one but she didn’t see the humor. So this new year I’m supposed to exercise and eliminate certain foods. There are interesting methods of weight loss trending like the social media sensation where a Chinese woman bends her torso back and forth while chanting to rhythmic music. Another one says you’re supposed to tap yourself in the face and armpits to achieve weight loss “through emotional freedom”. But I figured I’d better avoid these, however tempting. If Jeff came around the corner and saw me gyrating, and chanting while tapping my arm pits, it might be the final straw. One of the foods I’m supposed to stay away from is bread and it breaks my heart. Bread and I have always been good friends-- it’s even biblical! Jesus is described as the Bread of Life, and in the perfect storm God had it rain down bread from Heaven (Exodus 16:4) Another favorite bread story is found in 1 Kings 17. Elijah is hiding near a brook and supplied with bread and meat delivered daily by ravens! And when the brook dried up, God had Elijah visit a widow to sustain him. The widow was so poor she was preparing a last meal for her and her son. Regardless, Elijah asked her to prepare him bread and water and assured her that her pantry would never go empty. She did as he asked and they indeed had bread until the drought was over. In fact, God further rewarded her obedience and hospitality in another way ---her son became ill and died and when Elijah begged God to restore him, God poured out His love in excess and did so. Excess is defined as the lack of moderation. We too are the recipient of God’s excess love—from Him coming to Earth as a baby in Bethlehem (which literally means House of Bread) to His taking our place on the cross, and providing everyday guidance and comfort from the Holy Spirit. “Everything in moderation” becomes less of a mantra depending on what we are focused on. This new year may we avoid what’s bad for us, trust God to provide during the dry spells, and be obedient so we might fully experience His lavish love…because there are some things we don’t want in moderation. The old man sat in a familiar posture coaxing his trained file across each tooth of the great round saw blade. After each stroke he tapped the file on the metal causing rhythmic tones to fill the little rural sawmill as his grandson and I stood quietly watching and learning. The first thing I learned is that sharpening takes patience. Often times we are so eager to get started in the activity we don’t take time to properly prepare. Abraham Lincoln said “If I had six hours to chop down a tree I’d spend the first four hours sharpening my axe.“ It seems like my dad spent half his life sharpening things around the farm; the mower bar teeth for the tractor, the old scythe, the teeth on his chainsaw, and quite often the weedeater blades. I assume partial responsibility for some of his extra work because I might have run the chainsaw in the dirt once and created sparks by hitting rocks with the weedeaters more than once. (My wild swinging can light it up like the Fourth of July!) Another lesson is to STAY sharp so you always have a good cutting edge when you need it. Dad didn’t wait until the day of the need. He always kept things sharp. I liken faith to an axe. Ecclesiastes 10:10 “If the axe is blunt, and one doesn’t sharpen the edge, then he must use more strength…” Life will not require as much stress and struggle if our faith is sharp. There is an interesting little axe story in 2 Kings 6:1-7. Elisha and his sons were cutting trees to build a house near the Jordan River when a worker’s axe flew off the handle and landed out in the water. Elisha threw a stick in the water near where it had landed and miraculously the heavy axe head floated to the surface and was saved. Sometimes we lose our cutting edge, but nothing is too far gone that God can’t retrieve it. On a side note to that story, I can imagine my dad shaking his head at the worker’s incompetence at not fixing the loose axe head before it broke. I recall one of his that had a nail hammered in the middle of the wooden handle and then bent over the iron head to prevent separation. Faith, like tools needs ongoing maintenance, and we need to do whatever it takes not to be separated from it. So in this instance if faith is symbolized by an axe, we need to keep it sharp, not lose it, and actually use it. After all even a sharp axe sitting in its proper spot in the tool shed doesn’t do anyone any good unless it gets into purposeful hands. It’s all in the “Owners Manual“ , but here are some tips on maintenance and use. Show love. Pursue peace. Encourage others. Forgive. Do good. And most importantly, study scripture, pray, and attend church worship because iron sharpens iron. Even if we accomplish these things, overtime our cutting edge becomes dull because we are striking the dirt. We might listen to worldly things or absorb little bits of false theology. We might cease to meet together or believe we know better than scripture. A good preventative measure is periodically asking ourselves “Am I chopping with a dull edge?” I’m sure my wood chopping community will agree, if our axe is sharp, we can chop wood even when we are up in years like my great aunt Freda in the photograph. May we all have someone in our lives like her, my dad, or the grandpa at the sawmill who teaches us by example how to stay “sharp“. I don’t know about you, but as for me, I’ve got to keep my nose to the grindstone… The speed in which the wood rack on the porch empties indicates how cold the weather has turned. The row of muck boots has moved into the storage bins, and the old farm cat, Mia, stays curled up in a tight fluff ball (when she dares exchange the warmth of the barn for a corner on the porch). The canning burner and propane tank have been put away now that the fall harvest has been preserved. The porch scenes change with the seasons, and if their walls could talk what stories they would tell! The porch was a popular spot to “court” back in the day, although Mom said she and Dad never occupied the porch swing as much as most people because her parent’s bedroom window was next to the swing. That old swing makes a great place to read though. I learned if you’re lying down and grip the chains with your toes, you can rock right and left without your feet having to touch the ground. It might be due to user error, but the porch swing was not so kind to my sister, Cindy. She did a touch-your-toes-to-the-ceiling challenge. (This was before kids had Tide Pods.) Pumping the swing higher and higher her little toes finally met the porch ceiling. Her success was short lived, however, because on the downward flight, the swing broke loose and she and the swing landed out next to the holly tree! I’ve never seen her get carried away like that since… Our porch becomes extra seating during family reunions, a potluck buffet, and sometimes even a stage. It’s where family members gather to shuck corn, string beans, and de-stem grapes. It’s where we make messes and memories. My daughter especially treasures her porch time with Poppy, peeling apples while he explained his philosophies of life and source of his contentment…and why there are bullet holes in the wall on the back porch. (Something about the porch light shining in his eyes and how possums can run faster than you think.) Turns out maybe some walls do talk! The lingering Coronavirus pandemic prevented us from going inside at my in-laws’ home in NJ but we had a delightful visit outside on their deck anyway. We ate fast food breakfast while watching a church service on TV through the open sliding glass doors. Birds fed their babies, a fawn ran through the lawn, butterflies fluttered from flower to flower, and the broadcast sermon talked about hospitality. Biblical Elisha was invited in a wealthy couple’s house to eat and board, and he in return found out what they needed and blessed them. In their case they wanted a child and Elisha prayed and their hospitality was rewarded with a miracle. (2 Kings 4:8-17) I wonder how many times we’ve sat with Jesus on the porch and thought how cool it was to have Him around, but never invited Him inside where He could truly bless us. We might even go to His house every Sunday but have never invited Him into ours. He’s standing on our porch knocking at our door but how do we respond? Did you ever as a child look through the cracks in wooden floorboards of a porch and see all the treasures that had fallen through? Most of the time it was bubblegum machine trinkets but once we saw an important missing puzzle piece! Whether we are blue collar or white collar, Carhart or Cartier, we all want the pieces of our “puzzle” to fall into place and complete the big picture. To do this I’m convinced we need to make sure the piece that looks like Jesus is the one we start with and may it never be the one that falls through the cracks! (Matthew 6:33 “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you.”) |
Janet Cowger- FliegelArchives
May 2024
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