Okay. When I heard the description, I thought, "Isn't that just a poster?" But this is definitely different. In their words:
"This revolutionary puzzle is unlike any other on earth. Made of soft flexible material, The Pieceless Puzzle is actually one continuous strand of interconnecting branches. Great for travel, fun for all ages, and best of all, there's no risk of losing any pieces! Once you pick it up, you won't put it down!"
Okay....still can't picture it. Check out the infomercial here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4YrChGyQtQ
They come in several sizes.
What a cool idea! I want to try one!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Why do we lie?
"Smile, make them think you're happy
Lie, and say that things are fine.
And hide that empty longing that you feel
Don't ever show it, just keep your heart concealed"*
Last week I was having a rough day. I hadn't slept well. I was fighting a cold. My husband was on day 2 of migraine. I had to re-arrange my work schedule to drop Aidan off at his weekly play group. In other words, life was just overwhelming that day.
When I took Munchie to his class, I was on the verge of tears. Someone asked how I was doing. I lied. "Doing good." The lyrics above started playing in my head. It was hard to hold the tears back. Then I had to stop at the church office to drop some stuff off. One of our pastors was in there. He asked how things were going. I lied. "Fine!" Again, the lyrics haunted me. I went to my car and cried. "Liar, Liar! Pants of Fire" rang in my ears.
Why do we do that? Why do we "lie, and say that things are fine"? I know sometimes people ask the questions and don't expect (or want!) an honest answer. They are merely being cordial. It's a form of greeting. Intended as nothing more than "hello".
But, what about when people really do care? My pastor would have taken time to pray with me. Munchie's teacher would have offered me a hug. But I didn't give them the opportunity to bless me. Did I rob them of the chance to serve Christ by reaching out to me?
I don't think we need to give a full account of our lives when people ask, "How are you?" But, if we are hurting, maybe it's time to start admitting it.
(*Wayne Watson: Friend of a Wounded Heart)
Lie, and say that things are fine.
And hide that empty longing that you feel
Don't ever show it, just keep your heart concealed"*
Last week I was having a rough day. I hadn't slept well. I was fighting a cold. My husband was on day 2 of migraine. I had to re-arrange my work schedule to drop Aidan off at his weekly play group. In other words, life was just overwhelming that day.
When I took Munchie to his class, I was on the verge of tears. Someone asked how I was doing. I lied. "Doing good." The lyrics above started playing in my head. It was hard to hold the tears back. Then I had to stop at the church office to drop some stuff off. One of our pastors was in there. He asked how things were going. I lied. "Fine!" Again, the lyrics haunted me. I went to my car and cried. "Liar, Liar! Pants of Fire" rang in my ears.
Why do we do that? Why do we "lie, and say that things are fine"? I know sometimes people ask the questions and don't expect (or want!) an honest answer. They are merely being cordial. It's a form of greeting. Intended as nothing more than "hello".
But, what about when people really do care? My pastor would have taken time to pray with me. Munchie's teacher would have offered me a hug. But I didn't give them the opportunity to bless me. Did I rob them of the chance to serve Christ by reaching out to me?
I don't think we need to give a full account of our lives when people ask, "How are you?" But, if we are hurting, maybe it's time to start admitting it.
(*Wayne Watson: Friend of a Wounded Heart)
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
link backs
Win a Shrek Cookbook!
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/2206672/21668511
Win a Pink Dyson
http://www.5minutesformom.com/2334/dyson-pink/trackback/
Win a hard drive back up
http://www.5minutesformom.com/2338/wd-passport/trackback/
Tickets to a Doodlebops Concert
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/2206672/21935632
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/2206672/21668511
Win a Pink Dyson
http://www.5minutesformom.com/2334/dyson-pink/trackback/
Win a hard drive back up
http://www.5minutesformom.com/2338/wd-passport/trackback/
Tickets to a Doodlebops Concert
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/2206672/21935632
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Invisible Moms
I occassionally read "inspirational" e-mails. I almost never repost them. This one was good. (Thanks Auntie M).
ETA...I found the source (Thanks Terryl):
This is from a book by Nicole Johnson called The Invisible Woman: When Only God Sees
I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?"
I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?"
I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean.
My unwashed hair was pulled up in a clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
(1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
(2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
(3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
(4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof?
No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
ETA...I found the source (Thanks Terryl):
This is from a book by Nicole Johnson called The Invisible Woman: When Only God Sees
I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?"
I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?"
I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean.
My unwashed hair was pulled up in a clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
(1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
(2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
(3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
(4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof?
No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Do you know the number to poison control?
I do! Fortunately it's in the front of our phone book....
Today I wasn't feeling good (I'm still not, but that's another story) so I took a nap. John woke me up before 4 because we were supposed to meet his parents for their church's "Western Round-Up" dinner. About 5 minutes later, he came in and yelled, "Get up, we have to go to to the hospital!"
Munchie (27 months) walked up and handed him a Prilosec with white marks on it. Daddy asked, "Where did you get this?" Aidan went and got John's pill sorter and handed it to him--empty. John asked where the rest where. Munchie pointed to his mouth. There were 9 or 10 Claritin and 2 Prilosec unaccounted for. John normally keeps his pills in his backback---with a pad lock on them. Today, the were high on shelf by our desks. Munchie is a climber.....
I called poison control. (Last time I called them, Munchie had decided to eat Hair conditioner!) The person who answered wasn't too concerned at first, but she put me on hold while she checked. She came back and told me that 2-4 would not cause alarm, but since it was more than double that amount, he should be seen. She called ahead to the hospital.
Chewie (9) was freaking out. "Is he going to be okay?" he kept asking. I wanted to reassure him, but I was scared too.
John tried texting his parents, but they didn't respond. He dropped me off at the ER, and took Chewie and Crunchy to the park. He unloaded the kids (including Chewie's wheel chair and Crunchy's carseat) briefly told his parents the story and rushed back to the hospital.
Since poison control called ahead, they were waiting for us. We went right into a room. Munchie had fallen asleep right before we arrived. The staff told me to keep him awake. They gave him charcoal to neutralize the medication. First she put some in chocolate milk. He drank it pretty well, but didn't finish it. Next she tried Coke. That went a little better. But he was very tired.
We were told we would have to be monitored for 4 hours. Munchie was doing fine. After a while, they brought him a tray and he ate very well. He never did go to sleep. They released us after about 3 hours of monitoring. (He was going stir crazy in the room!) He fell asleep on the way home. He's sleeping with us so we can keep an eye on him.
Moral: Keep your meds locked up AND keep poison control's number handy!
Today I wasn't feeling good (I'm still not, but that's another story) so I took a nap. John woke me up before 4 because we were supposed to meet his parents for their church's "Western Round-Up" dinner. About 5 minutes later, he came in and yelled, "Get up, we have to go to to the hospital!"
Munchie (27 months) walked up and handed him a Prilosec with white marks on it. Daddy asked, "Where did you get this?" Aidan went and got John's pill sorter and handed it to him--empty. John asked where the rest where. Munchie pointed to his mouth. There were 9 or 10 Claritin and 2 Prilosec unaccounted for. John normally keeps his pills in his backback---with a pad lock on them. Today, the were high on shelf by our desks. Munchie is a climber.....
I called poison control. (Last time I called them, Munchie had decided to eat Hair conditioner!) The person who answered wasn't too concerned at first, but she put me on hold while she checked. She came back and told me that 2-4 would not cause alarm, but since it was more than double that amount, he should be seen. She called ahead to the hospital.
Chewie (9) was freaking out. "Is he going to be okay?" he kept asking. I wanted to reassure him, but I was scared too.
John tried texting his parents, but they didn't respond. He dropped me off at the ER, and took Chewie and Crunchy to the park. He unloaded the kids (including Chewie's wheel chair and Crunchy's carseat) briefly told his parents the story and rushed back to the hospital.
Since poison control called ahead, they were waiting for us. We went right into a room. Munchie had fallen asleep right before we arrived. The staff told me to keep him awake. They gave him charcoal to neutralize the medication. First she put some in chocolate milk. He drank it pretty well, but didn't finish it. Next she tried Coke. That went a little better. But he was very tired.
We were told we would have to be monitored for 4 hours. Munchie was doing fine. After a while, they brought him a tray and he ate very well. He never did go to sleep. They released us after about 3 hours of monitoring. (He was going stir crazy in the room!) He fell asleep on the way home. He's sleeping with us so we can keep an eye on him.
Moral: Keep your meds locked up AND keep poison control's number handy!
Monday, September 10, 2007
Am I talking to myself?
I've decided to blog on a regular basis (at least 2 posts a week). I hope I have something to say that will interest people. But if not, I guess I'll talk to myself :) I made a personal goal last year to start writing. It's taken a while to proceed, but I'm finally doing it. For now it will be tidbits of life that I find interesting. Later, I may take those bits and put them together.
I'd love to know who (if anybody!) is reading my blog. So I decided to have a contest. It's easy to enter. Just comment to this post. At the end of the month, I'll put the names in a hat and have one of the kiddos pick a name and send a surprize. Be sure to include your e-mail address.
In the mean time, I'll keep talking to myself.
I'd love to know who (if anybody!) is reading my blog. So I decided to have a contest. It's easy to enter. Just comment to this post. At the end of the month, I'll put the names in a hat and have one of the kiddos pick a name and send a surprize. Be sure to include your e-mail address.
In the mean time, I'll keep talking to myself.
Experiencing the Heart of Jesus
Tomorrow night I begin teaching my first Life Changers University (LCU) class at our church. I'm teaching Max Lucado's book, "Experiencing the Heart of Jesus". I'm excited about both teaching (what can I say, I was born to teach!) and going through this book. I've completed most of the first week's lessons (5 lessons a week). This week's theme is "Experiencing the Care of Jesus". Growing up in church, I've always *known* that Jesus loved me and that He cares for me. But sometimes it's difficult to get that knowledge from my head to my heart. Each week, I'm going to try to summarize some of the things that hit me about the lessons.
Here are some tidbits from this week:
* If you're not sure what to do, get out of God's way!
* God will fight for us. Our job is to trust Him.
* God's power is great for those who believe.
* Jesus promises us the Holy Spirit so He can care for us in our time of need.
* Other Christians can give advice, but only God can help us.
* The dwelling place of God is IN us!
* No matter how out of control things appear, we are not to fear.
* God has kept all of His promises.
* Nothing and no one can thwart God's promise to save us.
Here are some tidbits from this week:
* If you're not sure what to do, get out of God's way!
* God will fight for us. Our job is to trust Him.
* God's power is great for those who believe.
* Jesus promises us the Holy Spirit so He can care for us in our time of need.
* Other Christians can give advice, but only God can help us.
* The dwelling place of God is IN us!
* No matter how out of control things appear, we are not to fear.
* God has kept all of His promises.
* Nothing and no one can thwart God's promise to save us.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
When expectation and reality clash....
Have you ever wanted something so bad you could taste it? When it finally happened, where you satisfied....or did it leave you wanting?
My 9 year old son had surgery on his foot last month. (He was born with a club foot and had a series of casts as an infant. We recently noticed some turning, and he had surgery on July 23rd.)
After 6 weeks (and 2 days) of absolutely NO walking on the foot, yesterday was the big day. WALKING DAY! When I met Daddy and Chewie at the doctor's office, I was greeted with, "This is the best day of my life since I got Star Wars Lego 2 (for the Game Cube)".
Dr. B. checked him out and everything looked good. He can start walking (with the boot on for one week) now. Chewie handed me his walker and asked me to "throw it away!"
Then the moment of truth...
Chewie took a step and fell. He expected some pain, but it was worse than he imagined. Now he is afraid to take anther step. His confidence is crushed. He knows it won't get better until he uses it. He knows it hurts because it hasn't been used in 6 weeks. (Not to mention the trauma tendons of being cut and moved around.) But knowing doesn't make it any easier to step out. To take a step of faith.
You can see where I'm going....In life, sometimes I get hurt. Sometimes it is intentionally inflicted, other times a thoughtless comment. But nevertheless, I am recovering. It's painful to take that first step....and the second....and so on. But I know if I don't start working the injured area, it will never get better. I have to take a step of faith and trust that God will not let me fall. (Or at least I won't fall too hard.) Wounds run deep, and healing takes time. But it will come.
Chewie's doctor predicted that next time he seems us (5 weeks) Chewie will come running in. I hope so.
My 9 year old son had surgery on his foot last month. (He was born with a club foot and had a series of casts as an infant. We recently noticed some turning, and he had surgery on July 23rd.)
After 6 weeks (and 2 days) of absolutely NO walking on the foot, yesterday was the big day. WALKING DAY! When I met Daddy and Chewie at the doctor's office, I was greeted with, "This is the best day of my life since I got Star Wars Lego 2 (for the Game Cube)".
Dr. B. checked him out and everything looked good. He can start walking (with the boot on for one week) now. Chewie handed me his walker and asked me to "throw it away!"
Then the moment of truth...
Chewie took a step and fell. He expected some pain, but it was worse than he imagined. Now he is afraid to take anther step. His confidence is crushed. He knows it won't get better until he uses it. He knows it hurts because it hasn't been used in 6 weeks. (Not to mention the trauma tendons of being cut and moved around.) But knowing doesn't make it any easier to step out. To take a step of faith.
You can see where I'm going....In life, sometimes I get hurt. Sometimes it is intentionally inflicted, other times a thoughtless comment. But nevertheless, I am recovering. It's painful to take that first step....and the second....and so on. But I know if I don't start working the injured area, it will never get better. I have to take a step of faith and trust that God will not let me fall. (Or at least I won't fall too hard.) Wounds run deep, and healing takes time. But it will come.
Chewie's doctor predicted that next time he seems us (5 weeks) Chewie will come running in. I hope so.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Lazy Day
Here it almost noon, and I'm still in my jammies. What a lazy day! Good thing today is a holiday!
But, I think I deserve a rest today. This weekend I got a lot accomplished. The last (of many!) loads of clothes is in the dryer. (And there are only two baskets of clothes to put away! The rest I finished yesterday!) I went to Farmer's Market early Saturday morning. And I filled an entire shelf of the freezer with produce.
Last time I told you you wouldn't often hear me talk about gardening. Cooking is another topic you won't usually find with my name attached to it. I've been married 20 years and I still don't cook. I married a many who likes to cook. I can follow a recipe, and I wouldn't starve to death if I was alone. But I don't create. I don't know what goes with what, or what can be omitted or substuted. (One time I made chili, but didn't have any cumin But, I do know how to find recipes on the internet.
{{{{We interrupt this blog for a Mommy alert! Clean up in the sitting room. Clean up in the sitting room! Urgent!}}}
Now...back to our regularly scheduled blog....
So, this weekend, I filled a shelf in the freezer with:
* 18 cups (2 cup portions) of shredded zucchini
* Gallon bag of breaded zucchinin strips
* 8 cups of sliced and blanched* yellow squash
* 6 cups of blanched squash sticks
* Gallon bag of sliced, breaded okra (yucky!)
In addition to the freezer stuff, I....
* Peeled and chopped 4 cantalope
* Peeled and sliced 6 cucumbers.
* Cooked and stored 4 yellow squash for immediate use.
I'm working to put more vegetables in my diet. I figured if they are sitting on the counter whole, they aren't going to do any good, and I'll just have to haul them out to the trash when they start smelly funny. Hopefully, having easy access to the veggies will cut down on the excuse.
Okay....lazy day is over. I've got work to do!
But, I think I deserve a rest today. This weekend I got a lot accomplished. The last (of many!) loads of clothes is in the dryer. (And there are only two baskets of clothes to put away! The rest I finished yesterday!) I went to Farmer's Market early Saturday morning. And I filled an entire shelf of the freezer with produce.
Last time I told you you wouldn't often hear me talk about gardening. Cooking is another topic you won't usually find with my name attached to it. I've been married 20 years and I still don't cook. I married a many who likes to cook. I can follow a recipe, and I wouldn't starve to death if I was alone. But I don't create. I don't know what goes with what, or what can be omitted or substuted. (One time I made chili, but didn't have any cumin But, I do know how to find recipes on the internet.
{{{{We interrupt this blog for a Mommy alert! Clean up in the sitting room. Clean up in the sitting room! Urgent!}}}
Now...back to our regularly scheduled blog....
So, this weekend, I filled a shelf in the freezer with:
* 18 cups (2 cup portions) of shredded zucchini
* Gallon bag of breaded zucchinin strips
* 8 cups of sliced and blanched* yellow squash
* 6 cups of blanched squash sticks
* Gallon bag of sliced, breaded okra (yucky!)
In addition to the freezer stuff, I....
* Peeled and chopped 4 cantalope
* Peeled and sliced 6 cucumbers.
* Cooked and stored 4 yellow squash for immediate use.
I'm working to put more vegetables in my diet. I figured if they are sitting on the counter whole, they aren't going to do any good, and I'll just have to haul them out to the trash when they start smelly funny. Hopefully, having easy access to the veggies will cut down on the excuse.
Okay....lazy day is over. I've got work to do!
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Lessons from the garden
No....not the Garden of Eden.
If you know me, you may be surprised to see me talking about gardening, and I promise you won't often seen posts about gardens. I grew up in an agricultural area and many of my classmates were part of FFA (when it still meant Future FARMERS of America!), but I am not a gardener. I tend to have a "black thumb" rather than the proverbial "green thumb". I make plants die.
So, why I am I writing about gardens? My mother-in-law likes to garden. Every summer she plants tomatos, peppers and squash (and whatever else tickles her fancy that year. The problem comes when she and Dad, inevitably, leave in the middle of the summer to visit their other boys or some friends. That leaves me, the non-gardener--to tend the plants. One year, I just about killed the tomatoes, but my sister-in-law revived them.
This year, my in-laws didn't leave town until mid-August, so much of the garden-tending was finished. We had already enjoyed many vegetables from the garden, so if I failed, it wouldn't be too bad. Also, the plants were mostly mature, so all I have to do is give them some water every few days and pick the ripe ones. Even I can handle that.
Okay....here are the lessons I've learned this week:
1. Two tomatoes, with the exact same nourishment and care, can develop at different rates.
I am amazed when I see a cherry tomato vine that had a shoot with 4 tomatoes. Two are green and two are bright red. They have had the exact same access to the vine, and exactly the same amount of water. But they are completely different in development.
The same is true for us. Two people can face the same circumstances and react completely differently. We can be fed the same spiritual food, but absorb it different. And, just as neither tomato was "better" than the other, those who are more mature spiritually, are not "better" than those who develop at a slower rate. Both will develop--in their own time.
2. Some branches had living fruit AND dead leaves.
Even though the branches were *close* to the vine, those branches and leaves were not taking in the nourishment of the vine. Instead, they were brown and dying.
With us, we can spend time *near* God---so busy with "church stuff" that we can't find time to receive our our own refreshment from the Vine. And the refreshment needs to come on a daily basis. One "fill up" on Sunday, won't last all week.
3. It's not over 'til it's over.
I had given up on the zucchini and squash plants. It didn't look like any more were going to mature. But, just in case, I watered them along with the tomatoes. This morning I bought zucchini and squash at Farmer's Market because I was certain I wouldn't have more. But this afternoon, I found two ripe, mature zucchini. I'd given up too soon.
In the same way, God isn't finished with me yet. And He has promised to finish the good work He started in me--but I won't be finished until God takes me to Heaven. I am still a work in prorgress. Even if it seems that all signs of life are gone, it's not over yet.
If you know me, you may be surprised to see me talking about gardening, and I promise you won't often seen posts about gardens. I grew up in an agricultural area and many of my classmates were part of FFA (when it still meant Future FARMERS of America!), but I am not a gardener. I tend to have a "black thumb" rather than the proverbial "green thumb". I make plants die.
So, why I am I writing about gardens? My mother-in-law likes to garden. Every summer she plants tomatos, peppers and squash (and whatever else tickles her fancy that year. The problem comes when she and Dad, inevitably, leave in the middle of the summer to visit their other boys or some friends. That leaves me, the non-gardener--to tend the plants. One year, I just about killed the tomatoes, but my sister-in-law revived them.
This year, my in-laws didn't leave town until mid-August, so much of the garden-tending was finished. We had already enjoyed many vegetables from the garden, so if I failed, it wouldn't be too bad. Also, the plants were mostly mature, so all I have to do is give them some water every few days and pick the ripe ones. Even I can handle that.
Okay....here are the lessons I've learned this week:
1. Two tomatoes, with the exact same nourishment and care, can develop at different rates.
I am amazed when I see a cherry tomato vine that had a shoot with 4 tomatoes. Two are green and two are bright red. They have had the exact same access to the vine, and exactly the same amount of water. But they are completely different in development.
The same is true for us. Two people can face the same circumstances and react completely differently. We can be fed the same spiritual food, but absorb it different. And, just as neither tomato was "better" than the other, those who are more mature spiritually, are not "better" than those who develop at a slower rate. Both will develop--in their own time.
2. Some branches had living fruit AND dead leaves.
Even though the branches were *close* to the vine, those branches and leaves were not taking in the nourishment of the vine. Instead, they were brown and dying.
With us, we can spend time *near* God---so busy with "church stuff" that we can't find time to receive our our own refreshment from the Vine. And the refreshment needs to come on a daily basis. One "fill up" on Sunday, won't last all week.
3. It's not over 'til it's over.
I had given up on the zucchini and squash plants. It didn't look like any more were going to mature. But, just in case, I watered them along with the tomatoes. This morning I bought zucchini and squash at Farmer's Market because I was certain I wouldn't have more. But this afternoon, I found two ripe, mature zucchini. I'd given up too soon.
In the same way, God isn't finished with me yet. And He has promised to finish the good work He started in me--but I won't be finished until God takes me to Heaven. I am still a work in prorgress. Even if it seems that all signs of life are gone, it's not over yet.
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