Stained

My dear wife is somewhat obsessed with Sonic. For those of you outside the Sonic serving area, go here to find out more. Sonic is to Tennessee as Burgerville is to Washington (to help those of you in Washington). 

Anji loves to enjoy a nice, big, ice-cold, Sonic Cherry Limeade whenever she has the opportunity and she had the opportunity today. She went big - the Route 44 Cherry Limeade - 44 ounces of cherry-lime goodness, with extra maraschinos to boot. Unfortunately, in a sad turn of events, 40 ounces ended up on the floorboards of our minivan, leaving a permanent reminder of American excess gone bad.

When Anji and the boys arrived at home I was informed of the debacle and shortly went out to survey the impact zone. At first, it didn't look too bad, even though I had been warned otherwise. The floormats had some of the drink on them for sure, but - yeah - it didn't look that bad.

Until I pulled the floormats back. 

And there it was: the stain. The stain to beat all stains. A stain the size of Puerto Rico. A pink Puerto Rico-sized stain.

And Anji, bless her heart, gave me some space. I began with a wishful scrubbing with soap, then a hopeful stain remover application, and finally a bizarre and desperate witches' brew of supposed stain-removing concoctions. None of them worked. 

None of them worked at all.

As I scrubbed, and scrubbed, and sprayed, and scrubbed, and blotted, and applied, and scrubbed again, I became increasingly angry. Angry at Anji for buying, then spilling, that enormous drink. Angry with the spot remover manufacturer for even hinting that their product could remove this monster ("multiple applications may be necessary"). Angry with Sonic for putting red dye in a huge cup that cannot possibly meet OSHA safety standards. I was perturbed. The boys stepped back from their observations, the dog cowered in the corner, and I think I even saw the neighbors taking a wide berth as they passed by on their evening walk. The stain was so huge and so difficult to remove. The only way it would ever go away was if I bleached it out or cut it out or replaced the carpet completely!

And then, in a moment, the anger left and I was caught up in sadness and remorse. A vision exploded in my head. That stain, that huge stain, is just like the one I used to bear before the Spirit told me I was chosen. My stain, unlike the one in our car, had been removed through my Lord and Savior. My stain was removed with His blood and it washed me white as snow. 

As anger passed into sadness, sadness passed into joy.

And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? 

And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest.

And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 

Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them.

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. 

For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: 

and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.

Revelation 7:13-17

Push-mower Man

When we moved into the new house here in Tennessee, I was pretty excited to have a huge new yard. I mean, 100 x 200 feet of glorious SPACE. Space to run in, play in, plant in, build on ... you know, SPACE.

And it was all fine until the Spring came. 

And the grass started growing.

It started growing a lot.

And our lawnmower, which seemed more than adequate for our 7000 square foot yard in Washington, began to seem small and inadequate (but not insignificant). 

You see, our neighbors all either have riding mowers or lawn service (which is sweet, let me tell you), neither of which I have. Instead, I have a push-mower, albeit a nice one with some power behind the wheels. 

But after further consideration of my situation I count myself blessed. My mower takes up less space in my garage, doesn't cost as much to maintain, and uses less fuel. I also get the joy of spending an hour and a half (yes, you read it right: an hour and a half) walking by myself with only my thoughts and the steady drone of the engine for company. Nobody interrupts me, unless a ball or stick or other inanimate and easily-shredded object blocks my path. I'm even a bit jealous when Em (now big enough to push the mower in a straight line and eager to test his newfound ability) asks to mow. I think, "hey, this is my time", but I know a young man needs that time alone with his thoughts (and some machinery) as well. 

My neighbors might chuckle while they drive about, sipping iced tea from their built-in cup-holders while I sweat and push my little mower about back-and-forth, back-and-forth, but I'm enjoying my little reverie while they rush to complete their work and return to the cacophony of life.

Respite from this world is found in precious few places and times. We must allow ourselves to enjoy it wherever and whenever it avails itself to us. Even our Lord Jesus withdrew for a short while to rest and find comfort when the need came upon Him. It gives me joy to know that One so perfect would seek out momentary peace when opportunities presented themselves. If He was with us in body today, I'm sure He'd be a push-mower Man. 

God bless you all. Enjoy the Spring!

Looking Out A Window

  It's nightfall in a strange town a long way from home. I'm watching the lights come on from my hotel room window on the 35th floor.  I'll be right back.

 I'm afraid you are in for a little bit if philosophizing of you don't mind. Some of these broadcasts have to be put together while I'm out on the road traveling what I call the mashed potato circuit. In a little while I'll be speaking to a group of very nice people in a banquet hall.

  Right now however I'm looking down on a busy city at rush hour. The streets below are twin ribbons of sparkling red & white. Tail lights on the cars moving away from my vantage point provide the red and the headlights of those coming toward me the while. It's logical to assume all or most are homeward bound at the end of a days work. I wonder why some social engineer hasn't tried to get them to trade homes. The traffic is equally heavy in both directions so if they all lived in the end of town where they worked it would save a lot of travel time. Forget I said that & don't even think it or some bureaucrat will try to do it.

  But I wonder about the people in those cars, who they are, what they do, what they are thinking about as they head for the warmth of home & family. Come to think of it I'm met them - oh - maybe not those particular individuals but still I feel I know them. Some of our social planners refer to them as "the masses" which only proves they don't know them. I've been privileged to meet people all over this land in the special kind of way you meet them when you are campaigning. They are the "the masses", or as the elitists would have it - "the common man." They are very uncommon. Individuals each with his or her own hopes & dreams, plans & problems and the kind of quiet courage that makes this whole country run better than just about any other place on earth.

  By now, thinking of their homecoming I'm counting how many more hotel room windows I'll be looking out before I'm in the rush hour traffic heading home. And yes I'm feeling a little sorry for myself and envious of the people in those cars down below. It seems I've said a thousand goodbyes, each one harder than the one before. 

  Someone very wise once wrote that if we were all told one day that the end was coming; that we were living our last day, every road, every street & all the telephone lines would be jammed with people trying to reach someone to whom we wanted simply to say, "I love you."

 But doesn't it seem kind of foolish to wait for such a final day and take the chance of not getting there in time? And speaking of time I'll have to stop now - OPERATOR I'D LIKE TO MAKE A PHONE CALL - LONG DISTANCE.

Ronald Reagan

January 27, 1978

Radio broadcast called "Viewpoint"

As recounted in the book;

Reagan - In His Own Hand

Skinner/Anderson/Anderson

The Free Press

From A Distance

I am continually brought to tears over the distance of, you, my friends and family. Not that it lingers in a debilitating way, but that I get that pang of sadness knowing that I cannot just hop in the car and be in your presence (without traveling for days!) and get "filled up" with what each person pours to my life.  

But the knowledge that I am loved and I know how to love is a big "aha!" that has grown in me since my departure from the Northwest. It all, of course, stems from my Heavenly Father's presence in my life; I love because He first loved me. Which assures my place with Him and that His "best" is pursued here in my physical life. 

That proof that He gave me (that He loves me) was demonstrated by God sending His Son as the final sacrifice to be paid for me. He provided the final perfect "lamb" to end all future question. And His simple direction of loving my neighbor as the greatest command comforts me that His best is on my heart.

In simple words; I miss you. It's not a trite phrase to me from the state of Tennessee. It comes from deep within me that allows me the fruit of sorrow, the happiness of emotional pain. I am one lucky girl who cherishes the fact that I can say, "I'm homesick for you."

Sunsets and Snow

A few evening's ago we had this view of the day winding down from our kitchen dining room. It's not the first that we've had but the first that we didn't remain so mesmerized that we couldn't get the camera! Make sure you kind of blank out the telephone poles and the houses... it's still lovely, eh?

For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead... ~Romans 1:20

This morning we woke to a pretty blanket of snow on the ground. The white flakes kept coming for most of the morning and then around noonish it tapered off. So by 5pm the sky was blue without a cloud, the sun was shining off of the white ground covering. It's always so refreshing in a lot of ways, really. The snow always slow people down, muffles what noise there is, and gives the landscape a new perspective. All of the sudden one can see right into the middle of a greenbelt or even the houses tucked behind trees with their roof tops highlighted with snow. Yeah. Snow is nice. 

John 10:27 - 30

"My sheep hear my voice, 

and I know them and they follow Me. 

And I give them eternal life, 

and they shall never perish; 

neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. 

My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; 

and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father's hand. 

I and My Father are one."

Hey There Cowboys!

The Settles Brothers...

We went on a little drive the other day to check out a little bump in road called Muddy Pond, TN. It is a Mennonite community about 30 miles northeast of us. There is a general store, leather shop, and lunch bar. The general store had, what appeared to be, co-op items that were bagged for individual portions and some furniture and other wood crafts. There was even those most adorable straw Amish hats that the little boys wear. Soooo cute. The leather shop had all the paraphernalia  for horses and other general tools for farm life. We picked up three leather belts for the three little boys that were custom fit and in the deal they each got a wood pistol and holster. Hence the photos included! Samuel was down for a nap and it's doubtful that he would have allowed a hat to sit atop that stubborn little (cute) head. And Emery was invited to spend that day with a friend so he did not go with us. And besides, he has THREE belts!! Ha. We enjoyed a sandwich at The Front Porch and then took a little drive further east to Crossville and stopped at a winery before heading back to Cookeville. It was a nice day and we stretched our stakes a little further to see what was around us. We're thinking of heading to Sieverville (a town in the Smokies by Dollywood) for a mini vacation at the end of the month at one of our timeshare resorts.  So much to see!