I was reminded today of the time...

...when Jon fed Wm a container of freezer jam instead of vegetables. Both containers were unlabeled, both orange-ish. And I had used kid type containers to freeze some jam. When we figured it all out Jon said, "Well, no wonder he ate so well and then was a little cranky about an hour later." : ) That was over 4 years ago. I've learned to label and use appropriate containers.

More Than Three Dollars

This article really caught my attention. How far are we willing to go?

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please. Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don’t want enough of God to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation. I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth, I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack. I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please. ~ Wilbur Rees

Driving home one afternoon, I heard someone reading The Beatitudes in Matthew 5 on my car radio. As I crossed the Caney River bridge the radio announcer stopped reading at verse 9, leaving out the blessings from persecution in verses 10-12. I felt like I had been robbed. Sometime later my pastor, Joe Colaw, read us a poem written by Wilbur Rees entitled “Three Dollars Worth of God.”

Wilbur Rees’ line, “not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep,” reminds me of an e-mail we received from a reader, disturbed that his children had seen the photo on our newsletter cover of Namrata, the Indian girl whose face was burned by Hindu radicals. Although we also showed her healed face and printed her victorious story, this reader wrote, “I have two small children at home who see the mail and they do not understand this … it will be difficult for me to continue to support you if this is what I can expect. ...We do not need this kind of cheap, graphic, emotionally-driven visual ploy to get us involved … If you do not want my support, then simply let me know you plan to continue with this kind of marketing.”

The same day we received an e-mail from another family whose children were affected differently by the same photograph.

“We received the April edition in the mail today. Our five-year-old son, Gideon, saw the little girl on the front of the magazine with her many burns…Gideon had an eventful night because of seeing it laying on our table top. He and Benjamin (our three-year-old) brought it to us and asked us what had happened to her. So I told him, ‘Well, … (big sigh) … this little girl is 10 years old. And she loves Jesus. But where she lives in her country they don’t think it is ok to love Jesus. So when the other people found out that she was a “Christian” (and I told him what that means) they tried to hurt her.’ We later on prayed before bed … and he said, ‘I think God still wants me to be a missionary doctor … because I could go help these people who love him and get punished for it!”

“We reassured him that if God does want him to do this it would be very important … and even if God didn’t want him to do this … his job would still be important because he could pray for the persecuted (and we told him what that meant too). He was very open to the idea of praying, for them … and praying for his future, too, regarding what he feels God wants him to do!

“We hope this blesses your day! Thank you for all you do for those who are persecuted, and for those of us who are praying and listening to God’s will for our lives … even at the age of five!”

Our newsletter is for adults. (We have a children’s version published quarterly.) It is up to each family to decide how, if at all, to share portions of our monthly newsletter with their children.

Perhaps how we view published images of persecuted Christians – some consider them to be too graphic, in poor taste or sensational journalism, while others see an opportunity for fellowship and love – could depend upon how much of the cross we have been taught to carry. Three dollars worth of the cross does not include the sharp emotions of grief and pain. We can starve ourselves, our congregation and our Christian denominations if our sackful of God is too small.

I thank God for my mother who taught me about suffering for Christ through stories and illustrations before I went to junior high. I realized that our faith does not guarantee us a pain-free world. I learned at an early age that our faith will carry us through bad things which will someday work together for our good.

Tom White, Director of Voice of the Martyrs, August 2009

Right now...

Callie is in the bathroom, admiring herself in the mirror and reciting, "I praise God .... because .... He .... made .... me .... WONDERFUL!".

William is, in his own words, using a deep man voice, "I'm setting these up, these are the tiles, and they'll be over here, and this will be your new house."....been watching some "building shows" I take it. The "tiles" are many of his cars and trucks lined up on the coffee table.

Callie's new beauty routine

Callie's new thing is to go in the bathroom, fill the sink with water, splash some on her hair (and the floor) and dry it (her hair not the floor) with a towel. She then walks around with her wet scraggly uncombed hair and says, "Look at me, I'm beaauutiful". Today, William got in on it and after she said, "Look at me" he said, "You're beautiful". Good brother. Also, today, she put on a princess dress. She is beautiful.

With this post, start down at the third dog pic and work your way up.

Wm blissfully playing in the sprinkler

Cal not liking the stink.

Oh no good dog is joining the stink

Our crazy dog wanting to escape after rolling in the stink that the pool created.

Our sweet good dog resting in the shade

Chhh....Callie is cooking hibachi for us.

Callie hung her flip flops on the boot dryer. Must be their new home.

Trapped

Today at our church was the funeral for a young man who died after a 6 year battle with cancer. He was only 38. When I care for cancer patients, particularly young ones, I often wonder how it would feel to live every moment in a body that is literally fighting against itself, slowly destroying itself, and to have no power to do anything about it except wait. Here is what Rod, the man now cancer free and residing in heaven, told Vernon, our visitation pastor, last week. He told him that he felt trapped in his own body. I praise God that now Rod is free. Not trapped in his deteriorating body. He fought a very good fight. He never looked run down or weak or discouraged when I saw him at church. Just joyful and energetic. Enjoying every moment. I know he had his rough moments (I cared for him during one), but he was an inspirational example even then. My heart breaks for his wife and two young girls.

Beebe medical center pic just for you, debby. We passed it but we haven't had to visit it yet.

Lunch time

~ Callie finished her cherries, laying the stems in one pile and the seeds in another.

~ I cut William's watermelon and removed the seeds, he said, "You're awefully cool!"

~ Callie told me, "You're awesome to spit those seeds out"

~ Callie said, "I'm awesome to take these seeds out, William, I'm awesome."

Yummy watermelon.

Too too funny!

We're working on new life insurance policies. They called to verify Jon's height and weight. (are you laughing already? it gets better.) With the numbers we reported he does not qualify for the Preferred Plus insurance.

But if he gained 4 pounds it would make a $97 a year difference!! Lol! Bring on the butter! .... or ankle weights!

I love him.