Straight Hair

If we shaved Asherel's head, we would have enough hair to cover 3 normal girls and maybe a small pony. The reason I know this is that I spent an hour straightening her corkscrew shoulder length curls. She has an agility dog trial for the next two days, and the more she runs, the more her thick hair curls and puffs. By the end of a typical agility day, she has hair so voluminous and broad in its range that it sometimes trips the dogs in the adjacent ring. She also has a strong, and inexplicable aversion to barrettes, headbands, pony tails, braids, bobby pins, or any other hair restraining device known to human kind. So she requested I straighten her hair, and she hoped it would stay that way for the next two days. She claims straight hair is "not so annoying."

She fortified herself with a cup of goldfish crackers at her side, and on the table in front of her, the art contest work she is laboring night and day to complete before the deadline. I came armed with a huge round brush, several hair clips, a large high power curling iron, and smooth silky hair serum. Her hair is so recalcitrantly curly that I have to go through it not once, but three times with the curling iron, or those persistent kinks still broing out of control.

Since she had specifically requested I do this, I did not get the typical complaining, eye rolling, and "when will we be done" mantra repeated till my eardrums were permanently distorted by the sound waves of that phrase. Additionally, I knew that I was amassing enough good works in her eyes that I would be able to have her pose for a photograph when I was done. I did get some eye rolls when I told her it was time for her photo, but she ultimately acquiesced and smiled. When I finally finished, her hair was smooth and silky and luxuriously thick. I love her curly hair, but she did look gorgeous with her sleek and shiny straight locks.

And as she disappeared and I put away the curling iron, the large round brush, the hairdryer, the four hair clips, the shiny styling serum, and the cracker box, I wondered why curly haired people always want straight hair, and straight haired people always want curls. Are we all doomed forever to wanting what we cannot have, and then struggling to fit in places we were never meant to be? If one word only could be used to describe the human race, I think it would have to be: dissatisfaction.  I know this for a fact. When I was young, my hair was straight. I wanted curls. When it was short, I wanted it long. When I hit adolescence, it became curly. I wanted it straight. I grew it long and I wanted it short. When I had bangs, I wanted sideswept chin scraping hair instead. When I had sideswept chin scraping hair, I wanted bangs.

I cannot think of a single time in the Bible when Jesus reported being unhappy with His hair, or His looks, or His circumstances. Even when confronted with the Cross, He only said, "If it be your will, take this cup from me." This is an exceedingly mild request to His Father, and honestly, doesn't hold a candle to the circumstances I typically complain about. If anyone had a reason to complain, He did. But He didn't. Do you know that the word "uncomplaining" doesn't occur at all in the Bible, but complaining or grumbling at least 75 times? This ought to tell us something, and frankly, makes me a little ashamed.

There is a secret to contentment. I am certain of it. I am equally certain, I am not going to find it looking in the mirror, straightening the misplaced hairs.

Exodus 16:6-8

 ⁶ So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “In the evening you will know that it was the LORD who brought you out of Egypt, ⁷ and in the morning you will see the glory of the LORD, because he has heard your grumbling against him. Who are we, that you should grumble against us?” ⁸ Moses also said, “You will know that it was the LORD when he gives you meat to eat in the evening and all the bread you want in the morning, because he has heard your grumbling against him. Who are we? You are not grumbling against us, but against the LORD.”

Job 36:11
¹¹ If they obey and serve him,
   they will spend the rest of their days in prosperity
   and their years in contentment.

Inspiring Genius

While I was looking at the magazine cover of the kayak skiing down the snow covered mountain, thinking how fun that must be, and how dangerous, Asherel was checking her email.
"Oh, poor Josh is freaking out," she said.
"Why?"
"He's toastmaster (of Gavel Club) next week and he sent me 6 emails with questions of what to do."
It is funny that of all people, Josh would be nervous about this role, as he comes across as remarkably self confident, perhaps even a toe over too self confident.
"Are you advising him?" I asked.
"Yes."
I continued thinking about the kayak skiing- would it really be possible to turn, using oars, going 100 miles an hour down icy steep inclines? And if turning were possible, how about stopping? I began to picture in my head the various possible methods of stopping and not one involved leaving the kayak rider alive.
Asherel erupted in laughter.
She could barely speak through her gasping chortles as she read Josh's response:
"Some people, while not possessing genius, have a remarkable talent of stimulating it."
I laughed, "What advice did you give him that was so wonderful?" I asked.
"He couldn't quite fit all the print on one page so I told him to decrease the margins."

I thought about parenting, then. I do not possess genius. However, I do try to stimulate it in my kids. They have far more potential than I ever had. But what I do have is determination and perseverance. I figure if I can somehow teach them to use their fine brains God has given them to their full potential and never give up, they could change the world...and I think they have a responsibility to do so.  I had a fun facebook discussion with a friend about perseverance. I can't remember his quote, but I wrote the one I had grown up with: Success is 1 % inspiration and 99% perspiration. I believe it was Woody Allen who said most of success was just showing up. I would add to that- showing up day after day after day, till the job is done.

It is very easy to be inspired. It is much more difficult to follow that inspiration to completion, because completing a work always involves hard, and often tedious, laborious persistence. It is very discouraging to me to see half finished projects gathering dust. God warns us of this tendency to stop when the going gets tough. There are twice as many references to perseverance as to  inspired in the Bible. Those who persevere are told they are blessed, will develop character, will lead to hope, will be commended.  In counterpoint, in Hosea, the inspired person is called a maniac. Inspiration is a good beginning, but it is never where we should end. Inspiration should always be transformed into something that draws us nearer to the end. We are inspired upon hearing the command, but we must persevere to complete it. It may be the inspiration of a genius to reduce the margins, but someone still has to write the text that must fit the page. And that takes effort.

"Speaking of inspiring genius, look at this," I said showing Asherel the picture of the kayak skiing down the mountain. I just couldn't get over what maniac would think to do this.
"Fun!" she said.
"Dangerous," I said, thinking this is one project I am not inspired to bring to fruition.

James 1: 12
¹² Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

Let it Rain

Outdoor fun was rained out for all but the worms. I didn't mind. I am hoping the weather Administrator will get all the rain and cold out of His system before Friday. We have a Dog Agility trial Friday and Saturday and while there is a covered arena, the sides are open. It will not be pleasant if it is damp and cold. So rain away, I say, until the clouds are depleted and the sun can poke its way through again by Friday.

My favorite rain memories are from my years as a very young girl in Memphis, Tenn.  Besides having the best BBQ on the planet, Memphis had the best rain. I remember we would get summer deluges, and the streets would flood, and the gutters which were very deep along the edges of the street would fill. Maybe over the years, that memory has been enhanced, but I recall swimming joyfully in the street gutters after the rain in Memphis. The water would carry us on a wave in the gutter down the street. It is one of my favorite pictures from the slideshow in my mind of my life.

I no longer swim in the gutters when the rain comes, but I love it as a forced respite from busy-ness. We love our dog class, but it got cancelled due to the rain last night. I really didn't mind at all. Instead, I curled up with a good book and listened to Asherel practice guitar...which she might not otherwise have had the time to do.
I thanked God for the rain, for that shower of peace.

Joel 2:22-24

 ²² Do not be afraid, you wild animals,
   for the pastures in the wilderness are becoming green.
The trees are bearing their fruit;
   the fig tree and the vine yield their riches.
²³ Be glad, people of Zion,
   rejoice in the LORD your God,
for he has given you the autumn rains
   because he is faithful.
He sends you abundant showers,
   both autumn and spring rains, as before.
²⁴ The threshing floors will be filled with grain;
   the vats will overflow with new wine and oil.

Why History Matters

My job at the barn was to clean out the office while Asherel went on her riding lesson. Jill was apologetic, assigning me this duty.
"I tried to keep it clean after you organized it the last time, but well..." she flung open the office door and we looked in, " I just can't."
"It's ok," I comforted her, "I love this kind of stuff. I am good at this."
(And frankly, it is a heck of alot easier than chipping away at the concrete goat poop sludge that was my last job.)
And I am very good at organizing, especially if it is not my stuff. Jill left me a large garbage bag and told me not to worry where I stashed stuff- she would find it eventually. This is the kind of carte blanche instructions that make an organizer's heart flutter with delight. I only had an hour but if it didn't matter where I put things, my job was definitely within my pay grade.

Jill and the crew saddled up while I started at a pile of junk on the right hand corner of the floor, a tangle of objects stuffed under a saddle. I pulled out an ancient, spider web gooey old rotary dial desk telephone. It had some frayed wires and the dialer popped in and out of place. I hurried out of the office to catch Jill before she left.
"Do you want me to toss this?"
"No..." she said, looking a little abashed, "I want to keep that and try to fix it. Do you know one of my students saw that when I found it in the hay loft and asked me what it was? Wouldn't it be cool to repair it? Kids today have no idea that is a phone!"
Jill is young- certainly not half way through thirty. She would never have used a phone like this either. What was it about the lost history that touched her, I wondered? I dusted off the phone and put it on a high shelf. I suspected it would never be repaired, but I thought it seemed grateful to have escaped the garbage bag.

We are studying the Revolutionary War  in our homeschool. History was my least favorite subject when I was a student in school, but my favorite now that I am an adult. I am fascinated by it, particularly by the motivations and descriptions of the main characters in the saga of our country's birth. I want to generate that same level of interest in Asherel, to convince her that history is filled with wonderful exciting stories, sobering moral lessons, valuable insights that can guide our future. It is perhaps the hardest job a teacher of young people has- how does one convince someone with so little history of their own that all this panorama of history matters?

We just finished a book on Benedict Arnold. While part of me despises Arnold, part of me feels very sorry for him. As we finished the book, and reached the end where he dies in poor health, despised by both Americans and Britain, never achieving the status of hero that he longed for, I said, "I feel so sorry for him, don't you?"
"No," said Asherel, "Why do you feel sorry for him?"
"Well, I know he was despicable, but he was so self deluded. He never recognized, or admitted that what he did was treason. He was always rationalizing his behavior. He never understood that he was the source of his problems. He always blamed others, or his circumstances."
She looked at me, as though that hardly was sufficient basis for my pity, given his crime.
"We are all self deluded to some degree," I said, "I mean, we may not go and commit treason, but we do other things and try to feel better about ourselves by blaming everything but ourselves."
And the other sad thing about Benedict Arnold was his motivation. He wasn't motivated by great and noble desires, like so many of the patriots. He was motivated by the lure of money and fame. One of the greatest lessons of Benedict Arnold, in my opinion, is: examine your motives.

When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness by Satan, He had been fasting for forty days. He was certainly starving, and there would be nothing sinful in eating at the end of his time of prayer and fasting. However, Satan tried to lure him by telling Him,  if you are the son of God, all you have to do is turn the stones into bread! Just do it!
This temptation of Christ is one of the most interesting parts of all History. First of all, why is eating when you are starving a sin? And why does Jesus resist Satan on this point? What are His motives in doing so?
Obviously, eating when we are hungry is a good and natural desire. However, for Jesus, this temptation reveals the perplexing dual nature of His mission. He is both completely Divine, and completely Man, a duality that I cannot understand, but still trust to be true. And assuming it is true is the only way I think this first temptation makes any sense. He is the son of God, and He is hungry and His period of fasting nearly over. Satan would never say to a mere man, "Turn these stones into bread!" because no man could do so. Satan knows that, so Satan is tempting Him as God. Jesus as man would want nothing more than to eat at that moment, but He was not sent to the desert to eat...He was sent to the desert to resist the temptations of Satan. If He turned the stones into bread, He would no longer be relying on His Father to supply His needs, and most importantly, He would be using His divine nature to escape the trials of His human nature. Should He succumb to this relatively simple test, how would He ever remain on the Cross? Satan's taunt in the first temptation is eerily reminiscent of the taunts of the crowd when He is crucified, "...save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the son of God!"
History teaches us so much that is worth knowing! Especially, His Story.

Jill returned and looked at the clean office.
"Wow," she said, "I promise I will try to keep it like this."
"I put your phone up there," I said, pointing to the shelf, "I dusted it off a little."
"I know it seems silly to keep it...." she said.
"Not at all," I said, smiling at her, "I totally understand."

Matthew 4
1 Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. 3 The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” 4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’

Matthew 27:39-41


39 Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads 40 and saying, “You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!” 41 In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him.

Welcome home

Bright balloons swirled in the air above my friend's mailbox. I sat on my porch and wondered which thoughtful neighbor had tied those welcoming festoons there. On the end of the mailbox was a sign that said Welcome Dooley! And on her door was a sign that had a picture of a big black curly haired dog with the words WELCOME. Inside the house, I had sneaked in a painting I had done of the dog and his new mom, looking out at a sunrise. It was propped on the table so it would be the first thing the new dog and happy owner saw as they walked in the door. Beneath it, I propped a sign that said, "Welcome to your new life Dooley!"

Two months ago, this dear friend had had to put her beloved dog down. It had been a horrible, and devastatingly sad day. All of us neighbors grieved for her and with her. The dog had been my unmarried friend's companion and best friend. She mourned the loss of the best part of her life for the past twelve years.We all loved Lilly, the friendly black lab. And then my friend, two months later, told us she had seen a dog on the Petfinder site. Something about that dog touched her. The big black labradoodle was 6 years old. Black dogs have a tough time being adopted, and few families want an older dog. But my friend knew this was the dog she was meant to have. She drove to Charleston to pick him up, giving us neighbors the time to prepare our welcome.

I sat on the porch and saw her car was back. Dooley was home! I sat on my porch sipping my tea, knowing that I could not barge in on her first moments with him in his new home. But I watched the door anxiously. Finally, Dooley and my friend emerged and I raced over. He is as friendly and gentle a dog as God makes. All the neighbors swarmed around him, and he licked them all, though I noticed he leaned against my friend when the attention was a tad suffocating.

One other neighbor and I walked with my friend and her new dog around the block. We came across a group of neighbors on the other end of the neighborhood. They asked my friend where was her old dog? They hadn't heard about Lilly. My friend explained she had been forced to put her beloved old dog down, and then added, "So, this is Dooley, and he has mighty big shoes to fill."
I glanced at the huge dog,"Well, he has mighty big paws," I said.

And that story summarizes the way life goes,I think. There is sadness, struggle, disappointment, and death one day, but the next there is soft comforting fur, unconditional love, outpouring of celebration and rejoicing by friends when life turns sunny, and the happiness of one who had been alone who is no longer alone. Life is ultimately about finding home where you are loved. Personally, I think every glimpse of joy we have here on earth of hopes renewed, of redeeming love, of welcoming arms, reminds us of the greatest welcome we will ever receive. God will throw open the gates of Heaven, and instead of the nothingness we all have felt and all ultimately fear, there will be the realization we have finally found our way Home.

Luke 8: 40
⁴⁰ Now when Jesus returned, a crowd welcomed him, for they were all expecting him.

Matthew 10: 11-13
¹¹ Whatever town or village you enter, search there for some worthy person and stay at their house until you leave. ¹² As you enter the home, give it your greeting. ¹³ If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it

Mark 10:29-31

   ²⁹ “Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel ³⁰ will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.

Things are Not Always as they Seem

Incongruous.Who would think one had to fear a soft fuzzy white caterpillar that looks just like a kitty would look if it were a caterpillar? It is like the beauty of a sunset suddenly belching forth nuclear missiles. Sunsets should be peaceful, and caterpillars shouldn't have poisonous spines that burrow in one's skin and leave one floored in unspeakable pain.

This didn't happen to me, but to a friend who prefers to remain anonymous. He glanced at me as he was telling the story and said, "Oh no, this is going to be in the blog, tomorrow, isn't it?"
At the time, I didn't think it would, but I just couldn't get this caterpillar off my mind. I later researched the Puss Caterpillar, and knew God wanted me to warn my readers.

My anonymous friend was at a picnic, the scout leader of boyscouts who all came from single parent homes. So our friend was the sole man among a horde of women and boy scouts when the caterpillar showed up. The caterpillar was cutely, demurely crawling near his knee, looking as innocuous as a sunset. And then it struck. My friend said he was suddenly electrocuted with searing pain that zipped like lightning to his groin. He said it was so blindingly intense that he could not walk...for several hours. Politeness could not allow him to divulge to the ladies around him exactly what was the source of his blood curdling screams. I am not sure how he managed to get home or discover the cause of his extreme distress. I believe his wife found him crumpled and moaning as he explained he'd been attacked by a caterpillar. A fuzzy white caterpillar. I think when she finished laughing, they might have gone to the emergency room, but I am not sure of the details there...I was laughing too hard and unable to hear the end of the story very well.

However, if you are attacked by a Puss caterpillar, so named because it looks like a sweet little Pussy Cat, you will probably not be laughing. The Puss Caterpillar has poison filled spines that shoot out of its body, sort of like a porcupine. The poison in the barbs doesn't kill, though as my anonymous friend said, you wish it would. The poison goes with remarkable speed to the nearest lymph glands- like the groin, or if it bites above the waist, to the armpits and heart. It leaves a telltale red raised circular rash. The pain can result in temporary paralysis, and even nerve damage. There are two methods that seem most beneficial in counteracting the eyeball popping pain. The victim should take ordinary tape, and gently press it over the area of the bite. He should gently pull the tape up, thus dislodging the poison barbs. He should do this with fresh tape several times. Sometimes this alone will relieve the horror. If not, he should make a poultice of mashed raw potato and ginger root, apply that to the wound and cover it with a loose bandage. If that doesn't work, the kindest thing to do would be to shoot the victim in the head, at least according to the victim.

Ok, now faithful and loving as I am to my Lord and Savior, I just cannot help but ask, "Why?"  Why would God unleash an enemy on us that masquerades as a snow white, fluffy, miniature kitty? Why would He fill a tiny cute creature that we would so naturally want to pet, with poisonous barbs that detonate in the least desirable place any man would want them?

However, even as I ask the question, I think of the warning  of the Bible of the Enemy; an Enemy who comes masqueraded as the Shepherd who will guide his sheep, as the beautiful  enticing angel that will bring us all the world has to offer, as the beautiful serpent who offers us knowledge above the Gods.
Be on your guard!
Things are not always what they seem, and our enemy prowls with one desire- destruction.
As Halloween approaches, it reminds me of why as a young Christian and new mother, we made the decision never to honor what that holiday celebrated. It is the high holy day of the self proclaimed witches. It is based on pagan worship and obeisance to the occult. It looks so innocent now, like the little Puss Caterpillar. But I think God shows us over and over again that we need to be discerning and careful what we touch.

1 Peter 5:7-9

⁷ Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
 ⁸ Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. ⁹ Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

Rebuilding

"Drat, Mabelmanylegs, those yahoos have knocked the web down again. They seem to think that those window screens with all those nice tasty bugs trapped there belong to them!"
"Oh my dear Octoped, can we afford to rebuild? I don't think we can afford Human Broom Insurance- not with a deductible we can manage...." She began to sob, great Black Widow tears.
"We must rebuild, Mabelmanylegs. What choice do we have? It's not like we are going to catch flies with our charm and good looks. Remember dear," Octoped said, stretching his arms across her shoulders, "Adversity is oftentimes the spark to great achievement."
"Tell that to Mrs. O'Leary's cow," said Mabelmanylegs.
"As a matter of fact, on this very day, in 1871 that cow started the great Chicago fire."
"I know that," snapped Mabelmanylegs, "I'm webless, not stupid."
"Well then you should also know that in the end, Chicago exonerated the cow. Of course not til the cow was long dead, but even Chicago recognized that the cow may have been the biggest blessing Chicago ever had."
"I don't follow," said the Black Widow, dabbing at her eyes, which took quite a while given she had eight of them.
"Well, it is true that the fire started by that careless cow did kill around 250 people, destroyed 17,450 buildings, and left 100,000 homeless, causing an estimated $200 million (in 1871 dollars; $3 billion in 2007 dollars) in damages. But as a result, it spurred tremendous economic activity as Chicago rebuilt, bigger and better than ever. It can be argued that the fire caused by Mrs. O'Leary's cow was responsible for Chicago becoming a world class city."
Mabelmanylegs glanced inside the house to which her ruined web was attached. She saw the writer sitting at the computer, typing her daily blog.
"I don't get it," she said to Octoped, "I thought this daily blog that human writes is supposed to be about messages from God.Why is she writing about spider webs, and the Great Chicago Fire?"
"You try writing every single day for two years... let's see if you can come up with fresh and interesting themes day after day. But besides that, don't you get it?"
"No."
"She is reminding us, just like Jesus warned, that in this world we will have troubles. But we are not supposed to despair, because in the end, God wins. Jesus has overcome the world. Like Mrs. O'Leary's cow, we will be exonerated. And disaster can be turned into crowning achievement."
"Do we have to wait til we are dead too?"
"Well maybe. But the blessing of His comfort is here now, today, and we can grab hold of it the moment we trust Him and believe that He is who He claims to be."
"Will He rebuild our web?"
"Mabelmanylegs, He doesn't have to. We can do that. He can rebuild your broken heart, though, and He can give you hope and purpose even beyond spinning beautiful webs."
Mabelmanylegs peered in again as the keyboard of the writer clacked away.
"I still think she is stretching here."
"Well," said Octoped, "I think her heart was too full of gratitude to just say outright her husband got a job offer yesterday."
"Well, bully for him," sighed Mabelmanylegs, "Come on, lazylegs, get spinning if you want breakfast."

Jeremiah 29:11

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future