Meandering Moments by Elsi

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:5

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17

God is all that is true,

            all that is right,

            all that is pure.

He is Savior,

            Redeemer,

            Covenant-maker.

God is the Rock,

            the Lord,

            the first and last,

            the only One.

He is light and love and power,

            Spirit, eternal, unchanging,

            revealed, proclaimed, un-dying.

God is.

Granny—my mother’s mother, Ethel Crane Wilson—traveled widely. When I was small, she brought me a cuckoo clock from Switzerland and wooden shoes from Holland. When she finally retired from teaching high school, she went to Africa, where she patted the lion who played the lead in Born Free and learned to ask to “drop a penny” when she needed to go to the bathroom on safari. And she went to Israel, bringing us an olivewood creche, which I still have.

Recently I found the only other memento I have of that trip, a photo, dated 1962. Granny had just turned 66 then … and I will be almost 65 when I visit Israel this spring. There’s some sort of congruence here, a bit of synchronicity, perhaps.

Now, if I can only figure out where the picture was taken, I could duplicate the pose …

Praise the Lord for what He gives to you.

He will love me forever and ever.

He will be in your heart.

I will praise Him forever and ever.

He is all-powerful and untameable.

I will praise in His glory.

He is amazing.

Praise God for everything He does and gives to you.

There is no beginning and no end for Him.

I will praise You forever and ever because You loved me first.

I will always want to praise You, oh Lord!

You are my dear Lord.

Praise the Lord!

Our writing critique group went in several new directions last night. Only two people brought pieces to share, and both were new ventures for the authors—Lisa had a fiction piece, and Sharon a response to an op-ed column. Robert brought a list of writing rubrics, and I had an exercise on adding stylistic decorations to a paragraph. So we shared, had a lesson, and left early and happy!

This is a review of Insider Thought Trading by James and Blake Bar. I received my copy through the BookCrash book review program in return for my writing this review. I hope they’re not sorry …

I think there’s good information in this book, useful tools for changing your thoughts and your habits. It’s just that it’s almost impossible to find them.

The first part of the book is a convoluted story. If it were a true story, it would still be hard to follow, as the tenses and quotations ramble. But the author states, “the story portion of this book is a parable-style journey that roughly resembles the author’s life. … This story is not meant to be autobiographical.” Which means the unlikely portions of the narrative can’t be accepted as fact, and this reader kept trying to figure out what the point of the parable was. As best I could decipher, it’s a preachy little story meant to teach simple people—the sort of thing that was popular in children’s writing in the 1700s and 1800s.

The second part is supposedly the how-to part, a step-by-step explanation of something called the “3-3-3 You Are Free Lifestyle Design.” However, the authors assume we know more than we do. It seems to be a self-behavior-modification program, where you give yourself points for changing your thoughts and take away points for wrong thinking … or something like that. There are references to “grace notes” and “love notes” and keeping score, with little explanation of the application of the system. Personally, when I’m trying to change a bad habit or, much harder, a bad thinking pattern, keeping a tally score of goods and bads isn’t going to help.

Nonetheless, I’m convinced that—somewhere in here—there’s good stuff. I hope the authors will do another rewrite for clarification and application.

My church is taking a tour group to Israel during spring break, March 24 through April 2. And suddenly I was intrigued by the thought and was actually considering going! Silly me … but I emailed to ask if I could still sign up.

Oh, my! I missed the sign-up deadline by a couple of weeks, so felt quite safe in saying, “Lord, if You want me to go, let them accept me. And if You think I shouldn’t try it, I’m perfectly fine with that, too! Oh, and … by the way … make it real clear that this is from You, okay? Thanks!”

Just got an email from Jerry Schlatter, the church elder in charge of planning the trip. I’m in. Please send paperwork and money. And … by the way … because I’m so late, they won’t have a roommate for me, so send extra to cover a single room. And that’s the confirmation from the Lord, because the lack of privacy and space at night was my biggest concern! I guess He does want me to go … now I have time to get scared, but I’m excited at the opportunity, too! Wow …

my yard

Christmas Eve in my childhood was plates of cookies … last minute wrapping and tagging, secrets, whispers, laughter … carols on the record player … jammies after supper … keeping the lead tinsel from shorting out the train around the tree. We would gather around the fireplace while Daddy read the three traditional fantasy stories of Christmas: Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, “’Twas the Night before Christmas,” and Luke 2. Then we’d set out milk and cookies for Santa and carrot sticks for the reindeer, hang our stockings, and go to bed with giggles of anticipation.

Now, an old child of almost 65 years, I attend the traditional Christmas Eve service, where I am reminded that “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son.” “Love gives,” the pastor tells us. But I didn’t know that, until Emmanuel—God with us—came to me, was with  me, is with me forever … until my yearning, my hoping and wishing, drew me to open my heart and mind and make Emmanuel welcome in my heart and thoughts and life.

And so, this Christmas Eve, every muscle aching from four hours of serving homeless guests with the Lamb’s Ministry in Boulder, dressed festively in scarlet and sitting alone in a crowd, I sing the songs of Christmas. I listen to chattering babies, watch a boy crawling under the chairs waving a lighted pen, see the stable, the cross, the lighted tree, and absorb the Christmas message from my pastor:

Mary and Joseph, alone in a crowd … the innkeeper, who made a poor choice … shepherds confronted with God’s glory … and I realize—this is my story, the story of God’s love for me, His sacrifice to save my life … Emmanuel, God with us!

We hold our candles, pass the light from heart to heart, sing the songs of love in action. And I go home. Alone? Never again alone, for God is with me. Forever. Merry, merry Christmas!

Thursday morning the snow was coming down—sweetly, softly, beautifully, and relentlessly. Yesterday morning there was a good 14″ in my yard and driveway, and no sign of the guy who shovels me out (he showed up late morning—thank You, Lord! and thank you, Chase!). Yesterday’s sky was dark and looming all day.

But this morning, as I wandered into the 5 a.m. darkness to find the morning papers, I glanced at the sky and stopped, transfixed. Every star was out, bright, welcoming. Orion was there, and Cassiopeia’s chair. The Big Dipper was cheerily indicating north. What a glorious way to to start the day!

Shivering, I headed back to my warm house and hungry beasties, humming … what? Oh, of course! And all the stars in heaven shall sing, on Christmas Eve, on Christmas Eve! And all the stars in heaven shall sing on Christmas Eve in the morning!

Merry Christmas!

First, find a friendly Santa at PetSmart. Wrap your saber-toothed tiger (cleverly disguised as a tabby cat) in a blanket and drive him, growling, to PetSmart. Set your beagle on the bench next to Santa, and keep her there with a plethora of available dog biscuits. Now place the bundle of joy on Santa’s lap and           c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y peal back the layers of blanket until a furry face is in view. Fasten Santa’s fingers around the cat’s harness. Place Santa’s other hand on the blanket in the vicinity of a furry bottom. Back slowly away, telling the dog, “Stay, stay, good girl, stay …” Get someone to snap pictures. Such fun!

Oh, you’d better not bay … you’d better not growl … you’d better not hiss …

I’m telling you: WOW! Santa Claws is coming to town!

With little toy mice and tasty dog treats,

Catnip that’s nice and yummies to eat,

Santa Claws is coming to town!

He sees you when you’re barking; he knows when you attack;

He knows when you’ve been bad or good—so be nice and get a snack!

Oh, you’d better not bay … you’d better not growl … you’d better not hiss …

I’m telling you: WOW! Santa Claws is coming to town!

How to take your cat’s picture with Santa Claws