Advisories

There is a winter advisory for the mountains! That means snow may soon be here. I think it is awfully considerate of the weather station to offer an advisory to the snow. When snow arrives, it will be advised of all its rights: the right to peaceably assemble, the right to bear arms (and legs of skiers, but not to break them), and the right to remain silent. This is important because half the beauty of snow is its silence.

Just in case I was not harried and irritable with overwork enough as it is, I took on the effort of organizing Charlotte Homeschool Ski groups for outings to my favorite mountain in the area. I got enormous interest immediately and should have no trouble getting the minimum group number for the discount- in fact, I will probably have to limit group size so that I don't spend the whole ski day handing out tickets. I think I should parlay this into book sales. For every ski ticket purchased, skiers must also buy my book. It will be my own little winter advisory.

There is an awful lot of bad advice. It is very important to be careful whose advice you listen to. I am finishing up the book of 2 Samuel, and am once again amazed at the treachery of Absalom. He was David's son, and he plotted with his advisers to seize the kingdom from his father. In the end, Absalom was killed. Poor David mourned doubly- first the son's betrayal, and then the son's death. I cannot imagine coping with that kind of grief. I kept wishing Absalom would listen to wise counsel and turn from his evil path. He never did. There are many messages in this story, but I do think one warning is that we should choose carefully whom and what we listen to. Especially with the onslaught of information in the age of the internet, we are bombarded with conflicting views on just about every subject. I find myself reeling in indecision after considering all the viewpoints about just a simple matter like drinking juice : pros and cons. And then, like a breath of clean mountain air on a snowy slope, I open the Bible, my Spiritual Advisory. This is something I can breathe in safely,  trust in, and base my plans on.

Jeremiah 18: 17-19
¹⁷ Like a wind from the east,
   I will scatter them before their enemies;
I will show them my back and not my face
   in the day of their disaster.”
 ¹⁸ They said, “Come, let’s make plans against Jeremiah; for the teaching of the law by the priest will not cease, nor will counsel from the wise, nor the word from the prophets. So come, let’s attack him with our tongues and pay no attention to anything he says.”
 ¹⁹ Listen to me, LORD;
   hear what my accusers are saying!

When Disappointments fall like snow

Snowboards- check.
Helmets- check.
Waterproof pants- check
Fancy snowboard jacket- check
Boots- check
Waterproof warm mittens- check
Snow...
We forgot the snow!!!!!

The latest ski report doesn't bode well for our ski trip tomorrow. There are some resorts that have snow, but not the one we are going to. We have to go where the homeschool group goes and that mountain is currently in snow deficit. So we sit amidst our pile of snowboard/ski equipment with woebegone faces.

Disappointment can rip joy out of life. There is unfortunately, almost always a constant stream of disappointing events in life. It is very easy to wade into them and lose sight of all the blessings lined up on the shore. I wonder why we rarely have to remind ourselves to start counting the disappointments. I remember a song from my childhood that I loved. It went something like this:
When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep.
And soon I fall asleep
Counting my blessings.

God recommends the same strategy.

Deuteronomy 12:7
There, in the presence of the LORD your God, you and your families shall eat and shall rejoice in everything you have put your hand to, because the LORD your God has blessed you.

Lyrics to Count Your Blessings (Instead Of Sheep)
by Irving Berlin  :

When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads
And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds
If you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

Genesis 49: 25-26
because of the Almighty, who blesses you
with blessings of the skies above,
   blessings of the deep springs below,
   blessings of the breast and womb.
²⁶ Your father’s blessings are greater
   than the blessings of the ancient mountains,
   than the bounty of the age-old hills.

Psalm 4: 7-8
⁷ Fill my heart with joy
   when their grain and new wine abound.
 ⁸ In peace I will lie down and sleep,
   for you alone, LORD,
   make me dwell in safety.

LIke a Banner on a Hill

Our gear clattered to the floor as we slid into the desk at the ski lodge to check in.
"Do they have time to get their stuff on and make the lesson?" I asked breathlessly.
 Originally, we had not planned on a snowboard lesson, but then on the drive, the kids seemed to feel if they could get a lesson beyond rank beginner, it could be useful. It was included in the rental cost anyway. We had to fly into our ski clothes and racewalk to the lodge as the lesson started very soon.
"They are past beginners," I said, "They can stop and turn and stay upright most of the time."
"The intermediate lesson starts in 5 minutes," she said.
I didn't ask what kind of skill they might need to do an intermediate lesson. We were in too big a hurry. I just hustled Asherel and Ben into their gear and shoved them out the door. It occurred to me belatedly that intermediate might not be their level.

As I saw their teacher leading them to a blue diamond hill, the feeling became a certainty. There are three levels of colors , sometimes four, to designate skill level needed to successfully make it down the slope without the aid of a medic and helicopter. Green is for beginners. That is the hightest level my snowboarders had tackled. Blue is intermediate, or more difficult. Black is suicidal. or impossible for people with fully functioning cerebrums.

The kids did not seem to notice the color of the diamond as they boarded the chair lift. I followed at a distance, like Judas. Oh Lord, forgive me, I thought as I climbed into the chair lift behind them and we went up up up. The sound of skiers and snowboarders crashing and tumbling came from both sides.  I had been on a blue diamond hill last trip and so knew what to expect. Since Ben and Asherel still thought they were on a beginner, maybe advanced beginner hill, they did not know what to expect. I saw them at the top of the mountain and whispered, "Will you be ok?"
Asherel waved me away. I don't blame her. She sure better hang on every word of the instructor if she hoped to make it to Saturday unscathed.

It is interesting how perceptions color responses and actions. The teacher assumed they were intermediate snowboarders. Not someone who had been on a snowboard a grand total of twice, like Ben. The kids assumed that I would not put them in a situation they were not prepared to survive, and thus thought this must be a beginner slope. And so for the next hour, they all snowboarded under that illusion, and when the lesson ended, wanted to spend the whole afternoon on that slope.

"I was shocked to see him lead you to a blue diamond hill," I said, "You guys were awesome."
"That was a blue diamond hill?" asked Ben.
They both smiled, a little incredulously.
"I wouldn't have gone on a blue diamond hill myself," he admitted.
And I wouldn't have wanted you to, I admitted.

This was a classic example of rising to the occasion. Within a few runs, both kids were racing down the mountain without falling at all. It really was miraculous to me. I stood on the mountaintop looking out over the incredible vista and thought about perceptions, and misperceptions.

Isaiah is my favorite prophet. I love the imagery in his words. He has quite a bit to say about mountaintops and misperceptions.  He berates his people because they refuse to see truth. They want to listen only to prophets who bathe them in false illusions. He says they crumble and flee at the first sign of trouble, and will be left all alone, like a banner on a mountaintop. He begs them to see the truth, the right way, the error of their deceitful hearts....yet they would have none of it. They preferred a fantasy that required no repentence, no righteous action on their part. But Isaiah told them that even then, even in the midst of their stubborn desire to promote their own interests in the face of God's convicting truths, even then, God longed for them to return to Him.

It is so easy to fall into self deception, to think we can stand alone atop a mountain, that the world revolves around our interests, that we don't need to listen to the clear commands of our Creator. Isaiah warns us that it is the hand of God that must lead us down the right path.

I've been on black diamond slopes of life, and I sure don't want to navigate those without God hanging on to me. Ben and Asherel made it safely down a mountain that was beyond their skill under the protection of a skillful guide. And soon, they could navigate it on their own, because they knew the way. I love that image, the one that will have to hold me til next ski season, as this was our last trip for this season. The snow is melting, the days are warming, and so soon I will be seeking new ways to endanger life and limb.



Isaiah 30: 10-12, 15, 17-18

Tell us pleasant things,
   prophesy illusions.
¹¹ Leave this way,
   get off this path,
and stop confronting us
   with the Holy One of Israel!”  ¹² Therefore this is what the Holy One of Israel says:
   “Because you have rejected this message,
   relied on oppression
   and depended on deceit,

 “In repentance and rest is your salvation,
   in quietness and trust is your strength,
   but you would have none of it.

you will all flee away,
till you are left
   like a flagstaff on a mountaintop,
   like a banner on a hill.”

 ¹⁸ Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;
   therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the LORD is a God of justice.
   Blessed are all who wait for him!

Running with Joy

Now that my fingers have thawed out and my tongue is no longer frozen to my soft palate, I will tell you that being the ring crew for an agility trial outdoors in 19 degree cold is not as much fun as you might think.  I had on 3 layers of wool, and my full length down parka with the fake fur around the hood all tightly strapped around my face. I looked like Nanook of the North. I was still cold.

But this morning, I awoke to snow and more snow is forecast all day!! We will certainly have enough to cross country ski on as long as the snowplows don't decide to ruin my fun and plow our streets. And despite freezing for half a day yesterday putting poles up so that dogs could knock them back down, I am thrilled to anticipate my day on the snow today in similar cold. We have gas for the generator so even if we lose power, we are fine. The generator is small but it powers the essentials- the coffee maker, and the computer.

Honeybun is curled in a little tight ball of fur next to me. She was not at her best yesterday in the frigid day test trial (called show and go). Asherel was cold and tired even before we got there, and so Honeybun picked up on Asherel's less than excited attitude and she was distracted on the course. It struck me how critical it is for teams to work together, to be in synch emotionally, with focus on the same goal. If one is not at her best, it is likely the other will be dragged down as well. I think one of the hardest aspects of running agility courses for Asherel is losing her self consciousness and generating excitement that will feed off of Honeybun's natural desire to please. It is hard for Asherel to think like and act like a dog in front of spectators, but if she can't be "one" with Honeybun, they are never quite a team. Honeybun tries as hard as she can to understand English, to read Asherel's mind, and to do what this baffling but beloved human is asking of her. She checks back with Asherel constantly while on the course, unless of course her nose chances upon a piece of dropped food from the last contestant, which happened far too often yesterday and is why food is banned from actual competition rings. Then she might spend 10 minutes in the tunnel on the course sniffing out the trail of sirloin, like she did yesterday.

But the best agility dog/handler teams are those that can read each others' cues and movements and purpose so exquisitely that they move like one. And the hallmark of both, besides grace and apparent ease is JOY. If the team is working the way it should, joy accompanies it throughout.

I have found that to be true in almost any endeavor. When I am doing what I am supposed to be doing, and my heart and mind and focus is all riveted on the proper goal, it is joyful. And when someone is with me working towards that same goal, and we are of one mind and spirit in our pursuit of excellence, it is unspeakable joy. I am quite sure that is why the Bible mentions "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I will be." (Matthew 18:20)  God wouldn't mention this if it were easy, or came naturally. So it must be difficult for 2 or 3 to gather in like purpose with like focus not only in the name of God, but in the name of anything.

We had a guest pastor this week who alluded to the purpose of congregating in prayer. He said so often our prayers are self-focused and our motivation really needs to be other-focused.
"Goodness," he bellowed, "Here in the dry south we are praying for rain so our grass will grow!! We don't need God to help the grass grow! What about the people around the world who don't have enough to eat, or who are being tortured for their faith.... that's what we need to be praying about!"

Now I would disagree in part- we DO need God for our grass to grow....but I get his point. Our focus needs to be unified, and it needs to be on a goal worthy of our time and effort.  And like Honeybun, who is constantly seeking her Master's desires, we should likewise be asking for His direction.

Polly, our beloved mentor in all things agility, wrote to me after the trial and told me to remind Asherel to keep it fun for both her and Honeybun.
"Dear Honeybun would die for Asherel if she thought that is what she wanted," our mentor Polly said.
Jesus did die for us so that the penalty due us was paid in full by Him. We would never have to run the race alone, but always accompanied by God. And with Him beside us, we should be running with joy, unspeakable joy.

Matthew 18: 19-20
 ¹⁹ “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. ²⁰ For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

Long days of winter begin.....

As I started packing away the ornaments, Asherel walked by and wryly commented, "I am surprised you didn't start putting those away at 12:01 a.m. the day after Christmas."
"I thought about it," I said.
I love Christmas decorations, until the day after Christmas. Then I am ready to move on to Spring and maybe even summer vacation. The decorations were up for a solid month, and I had to rearrange our house to fit the Christmas tree in the right corner, so everything was a little cramped and cluttered for a month. I hate clutter. In a flurry of cleaning, while the boys still slept, I carted Christmas away. Now the dreary long months of winter stretch before me.

I would have been cross country skiing instead of cleaning if Mother Nature had cooperated, but she had not. She stopped snowing before there was barely a coating on the grass, and the roads were clear. I did put on my skis and do a few laps in the backyard, in case it was the last snow we saw in ten years.
I used my imagination to provide the excitement during the 1/16 mile loops.
"Is that a bear I see in the distance?" I asked my Pretend Ski Friend.
"I don't think so..." she answered, "In fact, I believe it is a snow covered lounge chair. But they are easily mistaken for bears."
I careened down the "hill" and did my giant shalom around the many dog poop piles.  While it was hard to contain the exhilaration from my little venture into the giant backyard wilderness, I tired of the game after three laps and headed back inside.
"You were only out there five minutes!" exclaimed Asherel.
"Yes, but I had seen all there was to see in four," I explained.

So we have two more days of my beloved boys afterwhich they return to real life. Then our season of craziness commences. We have two final months to build and perfect our helicopter and our trebuchet. There are deadlines for 3 art contests in the next 6 weeks, and we are about a thousand pages behind in biology. Honeybun has an agility trial mid January and we have to schedule some snow boarding trips so Asherel can use her new snowboard. My new art semester starts, and this year is the year I find an agent to represent me and sell my books to an adoring- public- in- waiting.

I look at my clean living room with the same joy I looked at my new Christmas living room a month ago. I know that soon I will not have enough time to clean or sit very long to reflect. It has been a wonderful Christmas vacation but the peace and leisure is about to be sucked away as we hit the new year running. I left one little piece of Christmas on display, however. I left the little creche Asherel made me on the piano where the morning sun rests before marching on with the day.  I left two little angels to guard it- one a gift from my son, the other a gift from our dear friend Polly. Those three things will keep me anchored during the storm of frenzy about to rage around us. The three things that I need to save time and energy and love for- God, family, and friends.

Job 27:10
¹⁰ Will they find delight in the Almighty?
   Will they call on God at all times?

A Holy Whiteness

An epic snowfall is predicted for Christmas day. It hasn't snowed here on xmas in something like a million years and then only a trace. In fact, it is proposed that dinosaurs once roamed the hot southern swamps of NC but they all died when it snowed on Christmas. The scientists believe this was not due to their inability to adapt to the unexpected cold, but actually due to their marked inept skills at  cross country skiing.Many, if not most, having never taken a single lesson, crashed into trees and each other leading to mass extinction.

But I am not a dinosaur, and I love cross country skiing. My skis and boots are all lined up, waiting..... A full foot of snow is forecast. It will be years before the one snow plow in Charlotte removes all that snow!!!

The snow is expected to commence around the time that dear almost daughter in law Karissa is due to fly off to see her parents. Anders is due to fly out a few days later. With luck, the snow may keep both her and Anders stuck with us a few more days. This is of course selfish of me and I am ashamed that I would even think such a thing so close to the holiday where unselfish behavior is the whole premise of the day. But there you have it. There is nothing I love more on earth than my family. I want them near me, even if they are buried in computers and games, and the only sounds I ever hear from them are, "When is dinner?"  I understand why God went to so much trouble to entice us all to return Home to Him. No matter what we are or what we become, the Parent loves us so much that life feels incomplete without His childrens' beloved presence.

I think God is mostly incomprehensible.... but the one part of Him that I think I really get is in His role as Father, in His angst over his children's suffering, growth, and righteousness. In His desire to hold them near, but His willingness to let them go. In His hopes that by granting them the freedom to choose NOT Him, they will ultimately choose FOR Him. I totally get His grief when one wanders, and His eternal hope as He waits and waits and waits, that every single one of them would return to Him in the end.

So forgive me as I pray for snow, snow to blanket the city long enough to let me cling to my loved ones an extra day or two.  And snow that lets me glide along streets emptied of cars and silenced with a holy whiteness reminding me of a time when life was a little slower and family members didn't venture so far away.

Proverbs 17:6

 ⁶ Children’s children are a crown to the aged,
   and parents are the pride of their children.

Tenuous Perches

"What are you going to write about with that picture?" asked Asherel.
"I don't know," I admitted, "I sometimes paint myself into a corner."

It is a strategy I often employ to jump-start creativity. It helps to overcome the "blank canvas" syndrome, or in the writing world, "writer's block." Not that I have either of those right now, but at times I do. However, I think the reason this malady is fairly rare with me is because I am very in tune with my subconscious and when my conscious creative juices run dry, I just tap into the wacky world of the id.  What invariably happens is I draw a picture with no conscious understanding of why I drew it, but when I look at it, I have a revelation. This is one of the ways I hear God. I don't hear him audibly, in case this entire paragraph has my friends dialing mental health services, but I hear Him as I reach deep into the areas of my murky thoughts and pull out a plum.
(See, that was an example.... I had never really thought, till my fingers typed the word "plum" that little Jack Horner was on my mind at all, or that the poem might really be about someone trying to recognize who He is in God's eyes when he has embraced Christ. It is quite obvious to me now, but I will not go into that as I don't think the message of Little Jack Horner eating his Christmas pie is the direction God is guiding me this morning. But I will say that Wikipedia says Jack Horner is the symbol of an opportunistic hypocrite.)

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled blog. So I was drawing on my iPod while Asherel was strumming with her guitar teacher, and out of my hand, seemingly on its own, a snowy scene with a snowy white wolf and a snow owl emerged.  The tree the poor owl is sitting on is bleakly naked and bending against the extreme slope of the mountainside it clings to. Its roots might just be barely holding on. The snow wolf is poised to catch any snowy owl that might fall should the tree lose its grip. What the wolf forgets, and maybe even the cold owl himself, is that the owl can fly, and if the tree falls down, the owl will stretch his wings and soar off with the snowflakes.
And now the meaning is totally apparent to me, and I even know why I thought of Jack Horner pulling out a plum, incorrect as my interpretation of the poem might be.

I think sometimes we are all feeling like the snowy owl in my picture, huddled against the snow. The world around us is slowly toppling, and hungry wolves prowl ready to devour us. It is cold and bleak and dark. Sometimes, we forget we have been given the means to escape. We forget we are free to soar on wings created by a loving Father.  Like Little Jack Horner, we had the plum in our pie the whole time, but we are always surprised when at just the right moment we reach in and pull out just the very thing we needed to remind us God is there, and in our despair He loves us still.

"I do paint myself into a corner," I continued explaining to Asherel, "But almost always, God shows me a way out. I rarely know what I am going to write, but for almost a year now, God has sent me a message every morning. I can't wait to see what He will do with the owl and the wolf."

Psalm 55:5-7

⁵ Fear and trembling have beset me;
   horror has overwhelmed me.
⁶ I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
   I would fly away and be at rest.
⁷ I would flee far away
   and stay in the desert

Isaiah 40:31

³¹ but those who hope in the LORD
   will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
   they will run and not grow weary,
   they will walk and not be faint.

Whiter than snow

ohoh.
The forecast for Binghamton is snow squalls for the day we fly in to see my folks..
"I guess I need to pack snow clothes," I told Asherel.
"Hooray!" she yelped.  We rarely get to see snow here in the south so the snow to her doesn't represent hazardous driving or back breaking shoveling or black ice that flips cars.

But I packed snow play clothes for me too. I remembered the yearly snow sculptures we would build in our front yard . We never made just plain old snowmen. One year it was a snow dragon, another a snow whale. The year we made a giant snow dalmatian, the newspaper took a photo of it and we were front page news.

It can cause so much havoc- particularly to travelers, but it can also be such fun and so magically, softeningly, beautiful. The ugliest slum looks just like the grandest palace under a foot of new fallen snow. Still, it was snow that sent us South.

"That's it," I proclaimed, as Syracuse recorded its one hundred inches of unmelted snow that buried our mailboxes.
"I am tired of burrowing through snow tunnels to get the mail," I told Arvo.
We sat morosely looking out our second story window at a view we could not see because snow covered the window.
But now, I miss the snow, at least in theory. Particularly on Christmas. I doubt Mary and Joseph were praying for snow on that historic day. I think were I attempting a caveside birth with no access to drugs or heated blankets, I would not be looking for snow, no matter how picturesque it might make the birth announcements.

Which sent my highly inquisitive mind to a riveting new question that had never occurred to me. Does it ever snow in Bethlehem? All our Christmas nativity cards show silver white glitter sparkling all around the heavenly baby, with not a speck of frostbite to be seen eating away at his nose. I had never contemplated the potential inaccuracy of the scene. Could it be possible that Hallmark was conning us?  So I quickly researched this startling new thought and discovered that while rare, it does indeed snow in Bethlehem every few years. It would be fitting that the rare event of snow would accompany the unprecedented, unparalleled, extraordinary event of God becoming man that man might understand God.  If there was not actual snow, there certainly was metaphorical snow with the birth of the Savior who would blanket all our sins under a beautiful covering if only we would let Him.

So hooray, we are flying out to be covered in snow!

Psalm 51:6-8 (New International Version, ©2010)

⁶ Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb;
   you taught me wisdom in that secret place.
 ⁷ Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
   wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
⁸ Let me hear joy and gladness;
   let the bones you have crushed rejoice.

Surprised by Beauty

The snow took me totally by surprise. I am glad I had finished a little snow picture with my art class last week or I wouldn't have had one for my blog. There are few inspirations to draw snow in the house of the brutal sun.
I guess I didn't know about the snow because I was busy trying to understand the "if A then B except when A is not but B is or B is not when the converse of when A is not...." in Asherel's Geometry lesson. We were so busy tying our brain in knots that I didn't see the first flakes fall and hadn't known they were expected until Asherel called out,"It's snowing." I thought it was just an excuse to lift her finger from our Evelyn Wood Speed Reading session, but I glanced up, totally losing what B does when A has to take a bathroom break. It was true. The first little dusts of snow were drifting quietly by the window. I didn't take them seriously, having not read the weather report. Everyone else had already bought their milk and toilet paper, but I had not because I didn't know the snow was coming.
And while we camped in front of the Winter Olympics opening ceremony on television, the snow kept falling. All through the night, it sparkled in the air against the yellow lamplight, falling, falling.....
I piled my ski clothes neatly for the morning, and put my skis in the corner. I prayed the liquid nails I'd used to repair them would hold. This morning, I awoke to a good 4 or 5 inches of snow. Right after breakfast I will ski, and then right after skiing I will do some snow paintings. With all this global warming going on in Charlotte, I seem to need a backlog of winter snow scenes.

And speaking of painting, today is the official opening of the first annual Hollow Creek Farm Kids Art Contest!!!! Details can be found at Hollowcreekfarm.org . This is a bona fide national art contest which means if you are age 18 and under, you could enter and win not only prizes, but satisfaction too, as you can help Hollow Creek Farm with your entry donation which will be used entirely for the care and help of HCF animals. The world renowned judges are experts in their field. Linda Ostrow owns the wonderful jewel of an art gallery tucked away on The Plaza in Charlotte- Queens Gallery (www.thequeensgallery.com ) . Angela Purcell is a devoted volunteer at HCF so knows the animals you will be drawing well, and has artist parents that instilled a deep love and understanding of art in her. And finally (this is the section where there is a huge drum roll and the fans are holding their breath while the older women pass out in anticipation)- the last judge is me. For all of you budding artists that hope to major in art, or just impress potential colleges with achievements on a national level, this is a very good contest to enter. The contest ends May 1 so you have plenty of time to find an HCF adoptable animal you want to immortalize in art.

But about the snow that snuck in here like a thief returning money..... I had been having a bad day. School was not going well for us. I will spare the gorey details but suffice it to say that I was ready to retire from all the perks of being a highly paid and respected home school teacher and join the Foreign Legion. Just as I was ready to pack my bags, the snow started falling. Who can watch snow fall and not feel the talons of despair melt away? My rising blood pressure with an angry spirit had called out like Gideon, "If the Lord is with us, why then
has all this happened to us?" (Judges 6:13.) But then I saw the snow. Flake by flake it fell, collecting slowly to a blanket of soft white covering all the harsh edges of the world. That is how my emotions had built, anger by anger, frustration by frustration..... and the blanket over our home was not one of gentle peace. Oh Lord, give me a heart that falls gently like the snow on my family!

And don't forget to vote for Honeybun. It seems her vote is being sabotaged as her rating keeps going down though she leads in number of votes. Since I have given clear instructions that when you vote you should only click on the 5th gold star to give her the highest rating, I think some devious souls are going in and clicking on the first star, which lowers her rating. So please vote per the instructions below:
just click on this little link below and skip to step 8.
http://tinyurl.com/voteforhoneybun
1. Click on this link:
http://www.petco.com/content/storiesListheartChampion.aspx?bvcategoryid=1-9
2. In upperish right side, select "sort by OLDEST STORIES FIRST"
3. Scroll down to bottom and select page "5".
4. Scroll down to bottom and select page "6".
5. Honeybun is the second story (picture: doge sleeping on pillow,
covered with a blanket. title: A Last Chance Dog.
6. Click on "Read my story and vote"
7. Click on the 5th (rightmost) gold medal (it will say "5 stars" when
you hover over it.)
8. On the Righthand side of the page enter your/an email address and
click the continue button.
9. You will be returned to Honeybun's story page.
10. Close your BROWSER program (not just the window).
11. Repeat steps 1-10.

Frozen Manna

I can barely walk today. That is because yesterday we got that promised blizzard, the winter storm to beat all winter storms, the harbinger of the dreaded melting of the glaciers and annihilation of all polar bears. We got a full one and one quarter inches of fresh powder. Charlotte ground to a standstill. Every event was canceled including church. For the Bible Belt to cancel church, you know the storm is of epic proportions. I arose in the morning and pulled aside the blinds- SNOW!!! Real honest to goodness frozen manna from heaven waiting for me to go frolic and taste the goodness and beauty of God's icing on the streets.
I quickly downed breakfast, and gathered the cross country ski equipment, that is thirty years old and only gets called into service once a year here in Charlotte. In places that are used to snow, like NY where I hail from, the twenty inches that drop every hour are immediately dispatched, but here in Charlotte, the one snow plow that serves the entire southeast was busy in Concord which got a death defying 5 inches, so we were sure to have snow covered streets til at least April or the first thaw....tomorrow. So I opened the door, slapped on my skis, and the world was my groomed trail! I skied joyously down the white street. The downhills became Olympic mountains, the speed bumps my moguls. I passed many children who stopped building snowmen to point at me, and say, "Look Mama! An alien!"
Many adults called out, "You're not from around here, are you?"
It was clear that no one in Charlotte had ever seen a cross country skier.
I headed to the open wilderness, the sidewalks along the busy thoroughfare. Few cars were out as one inch of snow is not to be trifled with, unless it is for an emergency situation like a Starbucks Latte. Now while much of my writing is intended to be humorous and somewhat exaggerated, I am telling the truth when I say that this was the singular best day of ski conditions I had ever encountered. God had sent a cystal layer of pellets as a base, and then soft powder, but just one inch. So my skis could not ever hit the damaging pavement, but slid across the icy pellets and were cushioned by the soft powder. It was the finest groomed ski trail and I raced along the sidewalks. I made for the golf course, the one where only the people who have cheated on their taxes can possibly afford. Normally, the guard at the iron gate there takes one look at me and slams the door shut as it is clear people of my station in life are not allowed. But the guard house was unmanned, as no one but the snow bunnies were out that morn, so I whisked onto the forbidden grounds. I skied last winter in the Washington mountains, and I can tell you, that golf course was just as gorgeous with the added benefit of no pumas stalking me. I sailed up and down huge hills and deftly negotiated sand traps with ease. The whole country was blanketed in untrammeled white, and I was alone, lost in the wilderness of an elite golf course.

I knew I had skied too far and would pay dearly for it by the next morning, but it didn't matter. If I must be crippled by excess, let it be an excess of joy. I skied 18 holes, and sadly turned homeward.

And today, I can barely walk. Did you know that there are muscles in your ear lobes? There must be, because even there, I ache. But it is a pain from feasting on the pure goodness of God's world, a satiating moment of beauty and pure whiteness in the often grey stumbles of life.

Psalm 51:7
Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.