tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37889437730026807502024-03-13T12:02:32.572-04:00REGENERATION...when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared he saved us...by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit...Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.comBlogger434125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-61102608054480954602021-05-06T19:58:00.000-04:002021-05-06T19:58:48.102-04:00Blogspot! My Dear Old Friend<p> I got a new computer, several months back, and whaddya know? Word Press locked me out. Sort of. Kind of. Well, at least it seems that way. I can still see my site, but when I log in it tells me I don't have any sites, and yet I'm welcome to create one. There's my picture, there's my email address, my log in works, but no sites for me. Never mind I had two Word Press Sites, for years, and now you tell me, nope we don't know you. What? I realize I've been remiss, but come on, what did you do with all those posts of mine on two different Word Press sites?</p><p>I know these are questions for Word Press, but when I opened up this dear old Blogspot site and they let me in--well I'm feeling like--here's the real friend. A friend who sticks closer than a sibling! A very dear old friend. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpZQ4hqgMUPAIcil4i13G7A_PpSh_oZwyjgt9UkxptahP5_767Fl2aqTyGYXHLB2xlVc3FkqHcWay6Lq7cABHbAndrhmzYARqJJCxfF55oAdO8gm1pv8lPZSxE3sf92GIhElYJC_lHQiP/s2048/03EDB0A8-26D4-4BCA-A1AF-045E5015B41B.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpZQ4hqgMUPAIcil4i13G7A_PpSh_oZwyjgt9UkxptahP5_767Fl2aqTyGYXHLB2xlVc3FkqHcWay6Lq7cABHbAndrhmzYARqJJCxfF55oAdO8gm1pv8lPZSxE3sf92GIhElYJC_lHQiP/w240-h365/03EDB0A8-26D4-4BCA-A1AF-045E5015B41B.heic" width="240" /></a></div>It surely must have felt like I dissed you as I skipped on over to Word Press. But, there you stood, all this time--holding the bag! <p></p><p>The bag containing my past posts, my thoughts, my dreams, my rants, and my joys, you kept them and waited. You must have known I'd see the light and come back. Here I am. And here you are. </p><p>Faithful as the grape hyacinths who lie quietly hidden through three full season every year, Then comes spring, and there they are in all their glory. They waited until we needed to see their happy colors. I don't deserve the repeat gift of their beauty every April and May. I don't do a thing to make it happen. Yet, they remain steadfast, and faithful, and constant--blooming right on schedule in the springtime. I just look out my window and there they are.</p><p>That's how it seems to be with you, my dear Blogspot. I just clicked, looked, and there you were. Steadfast, constant, faithful. Thanks old friend. I appreciate you.</p><p><br /><br /></p>Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-1086876224393509932015-01-26T09:41:00.004-05:002015-01-26T14:30:44.644-05:00New Year, New Blog...hostClick on over...<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://betsybrucehenning.wordpress.com/">https://betsybrucehenning.wordpress.com/</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks!</span>Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-89175436185511821232014-12-24T17:45:00.001-05:002014-12-24T17:52:59.856-05:00On Christmas Eve...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikk6Y6i9Wb4M8sGV9aYUYvhVRm6n6rXljiJmrlpMxSS0vGphR8mrG_E3zWqx-lvSWJ9mayX9H2BIA2FpKQ62kTHVwvY9uWsjB8CJCRHARZ2gxYtSqy7R3Bdoj4qH4tJsWKO0DRq75rSMHN/s1600/card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikk6Y6i9Wb4M8sGV9aYUYvhVRm6n6rXljiJmrlpMxSS0vGphR8mrG_E3zWqx-lvSWJ9mayX9H2BIA2FpKQ62kTHVwvY9uWsjB8CJCRHARZ2gxYtSqy7R3Bdoj4qH4tJsWKO0DRq75rSMHN/s1600/card.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
All is truly calm, not bright though, it's overcast and dark. But not in my heart. My heart is bright with happy anticipation. Tonight, eons ago, a baby was born. And He is Christ the King.<br />
<br />
Alas, I wasn't able to send a Christmas card to everyone I know and love so if you didn't receive from me, please know I'm thinking of you...all my cyber friends and family...and wishing you the most joyous Christmas ever. My traditional Christmas letter reads more like one of my blogs...so why not share it here...<br />
<br />
Dear Ones,<br />
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
2014 –What a year! And, just like every other year it was
well-balanced. There were joys and sorrows, delights and despairs, happiness
and hardships. More than any other year I am aware that life goes on… until it
doesn’t. I didn’t expect my mom would die so quickly after her cancer diagnosis.
Her cheerful spirit and my rose-colored glasses led me astray. Yet in spite of
the sadness, I (we) had a hallowed season of saying goodbye to Mom. I felt like
she was teaching me, by good example, how it’s done. She passed gently and
peacefully. And I am lucky in this…I do not grieve as those who have no hope in
heaven.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">13 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">about those who sleep in death,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">14 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">For we believe that Jesus died and rose again,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen
asleep in him…</span></span><span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> 18 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">Therefore encourage one another</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy'; font-size: 9pt;">with these words. (I Thessalonians 4:13-18)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">That was last year, December 2013, and
soon 2014 will be last year. Oh my, what do I have to show for it? For one
thing I’ve got my husband to hang out with full-time, and he seems delighted
about it. He officially retires at the end of this month, but vacation started
November 6<sup>th</sup>. In that time there’s no end to the fun he’s having:
shot a turkey, drove us to Florida for 2 weeks, had Thanksgiving here with our
two grandsons and Aaron (2<sup>nd</sup> son) and Amy, Adam (3<sup>rd</sup> son)
and Alicia, and he hunted every single day for the past 2 weeks. He relished
the pure joy of being outside communing with God and nature. His commitment to
the hunt paid off when he harvested a big doe. There will be meat on our table
all winter long. A successful hunt (or not) matters little. In his words, it
beats going to work.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">How do I like having him at home? I’m in
housewife heaven. He shares the household duties like a champ and he’s such
good company. (Yeah, I know, I married well.)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">2014 found us tackling some home
renovations. We moved our bedroom downstairs to the room we started out in 40
years ago and added a master bath. In our living room we had a new hardwood
floor and 2 six-foot sliding glass doors installed. One door faces the front yard,
the other faces the back, each offering spectacular views. On cold days we lay
a fire and enjoy the ambiance – which is especially delightful during the
holiday season with stockings hanging from the mantel. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">We’re grateful every day for what we have:
each other, our home, the fields and woods that surround us, a pool in our
backyard, our eleven year old dog, Phoebe, our grandchildren, adult children,
in-law and in-love children as well. We’re thankful for our families on the
Bruce side and the Henning side. We are blessed with church and church family,
both our new church and the old. How fortunate we are to have friends near as
well as those far away. We rejoice in life and the giver of life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">Make no mistake, it’s not perfect (that
would be heaven), yet we see God’s hand and His goodness in all things. My dad
is doing well, though he misses Mom every minute of every day. Our kids are
healthy and reasonably happy as they make their way in the world. Nathan still
lives in San Jose, California, where he works at his church as an associate
pastor, office manager, and worship leader. At the same time he continues his
education. Aaron and family still reside
in State College. He serves as lead pastor at the CMA church. Amy is busy being
a full-time mom and pastor’s wife. Their boys, Grant (7) and Maxwell (4) are
precocious, adorable, and absolutely delightful children. Adam is a captain in the Army reserves. He
and Alicia live outside of Butler in West Sunbury. Both are gainfully employed
in government jobs. And, they have 2 chickens named Terry and Red, who provide both
eggs and entertainment. David is in Colorado, working full time and pursuing
his music career part time. His band Chasing May keeps him busy following his
heart’s desire. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">That’s a
glimpse of 2014. And now, onto a new year with great expectations for 2015… the
best is yet to come! May that be so for all of us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">Much love to you from us,</span></span><br />
<span class="text"><span style="background: white;">Tom and Betsy</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span style="background-color: white;"> </span></div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-21651095102717600842014-12-21T17:25:00.000-05:002014-12-21T17:25:40.882-05:00The Fourth Sunday of Advent<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuzZgij2JcVXS4hs0TPpL6idZqdSc6a8T0X6SzowzgaodUe_C_kXYiU2jNoeqELdvqfGnk-cZP6-K64iPtyzFtt9qdF9tYGunjtHLgrBroYWRa0EMufao72V_bNalqf8MlJ6D76hY6sbc/s1600/christmas-507818_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuzZgij2JcVXS4hs0TPpL6idZqdSc6a8T0X6SzowzgaodUe_C_kXYiU2jNoeqELdvqfGnk-cZP6-K64iPtyzFtt9qdF9tYGunjtHLgrBroYWRa0EMufao72V_bNalqf8MlJ6D76hY6sbc/s1600/christmas-507818_1280.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>In church this morning we lit the 4th Advent candle and sang:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Light one candle to watch for Messiah<br />
let the light banish darkness.<br />
<br />
He shall bring salvation to Israel,<br />
God fulfills the promise.<br />
<br />
Light two candles...<br />
He shall feed the flock like a shepherd,<br />
gently lead them homeward.<br />
<br />
Light three candles...<br />
Lift your heads and lift high the gateway<br />
for the King of Glory.<br />
<br />
Light four candles...<br />
He is coming, tell the glad tidings.<br />
Let your lights be shining!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yes, light the candles, banish darkness. Be the light of Jesus in the world and cast out hardships, sadness, injustice, hopelessness. We might could do that, with God's help, if we let our lights shine. Or even just get out of the way and let Jesus shine!<br />
<br />
Preparing, watching, waiting...the Messiah is coming. Meanwhile, I'd like to pray for myself something the Pastor prayed this morning for all of us, "Lord, free (me) from any sin that would obstruct your mercy." Amen! </div>
</div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-50035713536757848282014-12-13T18:44:00.001-05:002014-12-13T18:44:37.259-05:00Advent...Season of Preparation<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uVm1EX006YrsaMiSP3hbIrqPIcIFv0qtO2ZLnOw5hpHe12q913hyphenhyphenG3aHQc2dKKQ4MRlGPvA0NfBqFy30hkhBoUDn_cDUJmzGWuNo1qIBBruaC6U-YaNcNi3QAvo4b49T8pPHH2IlUJ-D/s1600/Advent+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uVm1EX006YrsaMiSP3hbIrqPIcIFv0qtO2ZLnOw5hpHe12q913hyphenhyphenG3aHQc2dKKQ4MRlGPvA0NfBqFy30hkhBoUDn_cDUJmzGWuNo1qIBBruaC6U-YaNcNi3QAvo4b49T8pPHH2IlUJ-D/s1600/Advent+pic.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>As I ready the house, decorate the tree, attend Christmas cantatas, buy and wrap presents, write my Christmas letter, and think about baking, I admit, it's easy to overlook the reason for all this busyness.<br />
<br />
I'm preparing to celebrate the birthday of a baby who is Christ the King, Savior of the world, the Prince of Peace, Jesus. </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Lucida Calligraphy';"><b>His rule is peace and freedom, and justice, truth and love.</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But I have to tell you, the Prince of Peace has gotten a bad rap. His followers are far from perfect, far from able to mirror Him, but not for lack of trying. Sometimes the harder we try, the farther off the mark we are -- giving fodder for skeptics to judge Him wrongly. But in spite of us and our mistakes, He remains perfect and the redeemer of all mankind.<br />
<br />
This Christmas season, as in seasons past, I hope for peace and goodwill among all people of every tribe, nation, and faith. I believe that one day the hills and valleys will be leveled and bumpy roads made smooth. I believe in the power of a loving God who has made a way for humanity to eventually and finally get it right.<br />
<br />
Every Christmas season I see the potential for it to happen. People who are kind and giving, loving and cheerful. I hear of folks who go out of their way to help the down trodden. I see people making efforts to love their neighbors. And it's contagious. Goodwill breeds goodwill! I too am moved to join the ranks of do-gooders as I see people blessing people, giving up old grudges and prejudice, caring for the marginalized and those less fortunate. Ambassadors and servants one and all to the Prince of Peace whether they know it or not.<br />
<br />
"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'" Matthew 25:40<br />
<br />
This Sunday we light the 3rd advent candle. We are half way through the waiting season, the time of preparing, and then, ready or not, Christmas comes. I'm so glad God didn't wait for us to be ready, to be cleaned up, with our homes and affairs and our lives in order, before sending our Savior, our Redeemer, the Prince of Peace. Yes, there will be peace on earth when He comes to rule in truth and justice and love.<br />
<br />
Forget the cookies, and presents, and decorated trees... Prepare ye the way, in your heart, for the Prince of Peace.</div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-57864237356768109492014-11-08T23:20:00.000-05:002014-11-08T23:33:30.864-05:00November Retiree<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjAG7rgxPGDxzR2twX-_25_SC3JtYCbdEDE6E3Dd4MKSK6pjGKG8FMZMKx9511DyDXVm4rs-nE0yyiN819JJxHZjKvM8-MVU0xG9QwQ1RfnUzEkfYvt1IWbhgWlWJTdDLEWWeWGAaOrWn/s1600/Tom's%2BTurkey%2B2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjAG7rgxPGDxzR2twX-_25_SC3JtYCbdEDE6E3Dd4MKSK6pjGKG8FMZMKx9511DyDXVm4rs-nE0yyiN819JJxHZjKvM8-MVU0xG9QwQ1RfnUzEkfYvt1IWbhgWlWJTdDLEWWeWGAaOrWn/s1600/Tom's%2BTurkey%2B2014.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So far retirement is great. Tom's been busy, busy, busy doing whatever he wants. Traveling to see our kids, cutting and stacking firewood, shearing Christmas trees, helping around the house (be jealous, women, be jealous), and shooting a turkey. Yep, he's thinking this retirement thing is alright! </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5AG7tuBgA7Qjwvt6gIRG3_sOusaHtE_Ilz3kzABMBInlsOGneEFjXgmfqpdluqe7ExBp92NsBU1UC6W4flRULZJq_oR69YED6Kfg8aNR7YjaPhGZl16uaNEbVZfSuwF0sOU-vOrqwBIk/s1600/Farm13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5AG7tuBgA7Qjwvt6gIRG3_sOusaHtE_Ilz3kzABMBInlsOGneEFjXgmfqpdluqe7ExBp92NsBU1UC6W4flRULZJq_oR69YED6Kfg8aNR7YjaPhGZl16uaNEbVZfSuwF0sOU-vOrqwBIk/s1600/Farm13.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">November 3rd was my firstborn son's 41st birthday. And I want to know, how could I possibly have children anywhere near 4 decades old? 28, 34, 39 and...well I don't have to say it again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was a child when I had him, wink, wink. But really, I kind of was -- I turned 21 in October of 1973, and Nathan was born in November.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">November 1st and 2nd Tom and I spent with our second son's family. I'm not sure there's anything better than grandson time. They are such good boys and smart and fun, and absolutely-- above average -- just like all the children who live in Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We went to church with them on Sunday and, as always, my son delivered quite a good message from his series,<a href="http://www.statecollegecma.com/#/home/sermons" target="_blank"> <b>Life on Mission.</b></a> (feel free to click and listen). This was a couple days before retirement, so we had to get on home so Tom could go to work on Monday. But before leaving town we stopped to see my brother Tom and his wife, Anne, and we were lucky enough to visit with our nephew, Tommy as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSkjbGyY31u73uP668CVt_sgFlRl9GtS79Pb6G4dcr_rC-9yyt3pan9cammxmz2ov-ly_Jn0jy1igbf6T_g5GvCT8YHnLVb8wfRDYxQXfCGpxXghEjhntA-0-lXTWR7tIHs00jLI41hY2a/s1600/Red+and+Terry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSkjbGyY31u73uP668CVt_sgFlRl9GtS79Pb6G4dcr_rC-9yyt3pan9cammxmz2ov-ly_Jn0jy1igbf6T_g5GvCT8YHnLVb8wfRDYxQXfCGpxXghEjhntA-0-lXTWR7tIHs00jLI41hY2a/s1600/Red+and+Terry.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day after retirement...</span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Son #3 invited us to dinner. Alicia is a wonderful cook and it's always a treat to go there. Adam and Alicia have chickens -- two hens, named Terry and Red. They're like pets. We hadn't made the trek to Butler for quite awhile, so, although we've eaten their eggs before, this was the first time we met the chickens.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We did not have chicken for dinner. We had pork and avocado pasta and roasted brussel sprouts. Everything was delicious.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0Tf98ZCp55UoCaHVd4okJPWuUyWg_JxjM7NfEtUbnKSdlDu41lG73ndbanjsYQn2MfrBu947W8k9wOBWYPEhhQjfPMgWuYqkD_xGV0vjQWJSCFdzyc4chqAyaEJkjgWRIA88wiNn0BZm/s1600/IMG_0497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0Tf98ZCp55UoCaHVd4okJPWuUyWg_JxjM7NfEtUbnKSdlDu41lG73ndbanjsYQn2MfrBu947W8k9wOBWYPEhhQjfPMgWuYqkD_xGV0vjQWJSCFdzyc4chqAyaEJkjgWRIA88wiNn0BZm/s1600/IMG_0497.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Ykn2D1cQJ3yhJrOjMTde6V5oz8aYVKXu4mqwh67iGKNMIfFTitO6Yf1o1owhkc41ne4Aam4FyTrySGWwa7hsWqivyOk_k1UsgaRVtW-r0H7JkDbc7wh6gITGaQT_YHmzecSC_mGk9oZs/s1600/Alicia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Ykn2D1cQJ3yhJrOjMTde6V5oz8aYVKXu4mqwh67iGKNMIfFTitO6Yf1o1owhkc41ne4Aam4FyTrySGWwa7hsWqivyOk_k1UsgaRVtW-r0H7JkDbc7wh6gITGaQT_YHmzecSC_mGk9oZs/s1600/Alicia.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sun goes down, the chickies follow their "mom" to the hen house. Time to go to bed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWP9ogHPRPu04HLBmyIZJDA4XZ7DL-32qrOYMjUpRMCcJpzED8mNwwe02b1J8X7VKRZ-6A2HFCc7kT8G_eN_AulHBwMLAcpXE4ZWnk2OjGYmLw2chciGtnC4ouLx3VIPB4QmHqL7UMYxA/s1600/Tom+with+cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWP9ogHPRPu04HLBmyIZJDA4XZ7DL-32qrOYMjUpRMCcJpzED8mNwwe02b1J8X7VKRZ-6A2HFCc7kT8G_eN_AulHBwMLAcpXE4ZWnk2OjGYmLw2chciGtnC4ouLx3VIPB4QmHqL7UMYxA/s1600/Tom+with+cake.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There seems no end </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to the fun to be had </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in retirement. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this was only day 3.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've only just begun!!! </span></div>
<br />
<br />
.<br />
<br />Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-3910565590732519322014-10-23T13:12:00.004-04:002014-10-23T13:16:58.230-04:00October Speeds By<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHRK7U2l3BT6Nlv7S4M3H-2OdjrskVk2bK4KP61bok0MxxWq3nnklQvrp1vAQ3Qx7h-GC5N2byECmJsLXHbhOKIv8HG9P7p4dANiG1wchbJM2TCIpxiX6bTKk0QjJg0fEtA3QRWNY4AhkE/s1600/IMG_2993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHRK7U2l3BT6Nlv7S4M3H-2OdjrskVk2bK4KP61bok0MxxWq3nnklQvrp1vAQ3Qx7h-GC5N2byECmJsLXHbhOKIv8HG9P7p4dANiG1wchbJM2TCIpxiX6bTKk0QjJg0fEtA3QRWNY4AhkE/s1600/IMG_2993.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Goodness...those beautiful trees are mostly bare now. The lawn is carpeted edge to edge with golden leaves. If they weren't grass killers I'd want to just let them alone. But alas, they turn brown and then snow falls on them and in the spring it's even more difficult to rake them up. I know this from experience.<br />
<br />
The pool is closed up, covered up, all safe and snug until spring, which is to say the water lines are blown dry then plugged so they won't freeze and burst, and the safety cover is in place. We closed the pool at the end of September this year. That's the earliest ever. I'm glad not to have to scoop leaves out before every swim, but I miss the swims!<br />
<br />
With the pool closed I have to settle for my hot tub. You didn't know I had a hot tub did you? I hear one of my kids in particular getting very excited. Wait. Whoa. I'm totally misleading you. Here's my version of a hot tub...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5xJdNayJtDIgFB_KOvUstGeHpD-5wSR0qYiaZNPhcQd4wOALLYez4KYHMkHWIL-Arcmfs7qbmVhNDh4xYkQbx4fnFg_V-48nxJQxv_U40g879m81Eaco8KiIuxAKF_shi8Odd_6m_YqC/s1600/IMG_2730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5xJdNayJtDIgFB_KOvUstGeHpD-5wSR0qYiaZNPhcQd4wOALLYez4KYHMkHWIL-Arcmfs7qbmVhNDh4xYkQbx4fnFg_V-48nxJQxv_U40g879m81Eaco8KiIuxAKF_shi8Odd_6m_YqC/s1600/IMG_2730.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Thanks to our recent remodel we have, what is to us a rather extravagant master bath. This old tub spent several decades in the barn and a few years out in the elements. We looked into having it re-glazed -- to the tune of 500 bucks, and for another 500 they'd clean up the outside too. Instead, Tom watched a YouTube video, bought a kit from Home Depot, and refinished the entire tub for less than $100. The faucet set was a bit pricey, but hey, we saved enough on the tub to splurge on the hardware.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHLZB0vQkeW2DgDQtmfM8kaQGF31pUQ5BcPH5PV2vhtna3krOQp3sXYuUcXAc5piPrK4wNwMJIpH-lyu_gaADKsu5x9NoEgbAfgIODUb1-k1GaDzzmjFRwjWOXw03ZI6oVrZlFFEAWyvd/s1600/IMG_2726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHLZB0vQkeW2DgDQtmfM8kaQGF31pUQ5BcPH5PV2vhtna3krOQp3sXYuUcXAc5piPrK4wNwMJIpH-lyu_gaADKsu5x9NoEgbAfgIODUb1-k1GaDzzmjFRwjWOXw03ZI6oVrZlFFEAWyvd/s1600/IMG_2726.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At the end of a hard day..."Dear Claw Foot Tub, with or without Calgon... take me away." I can read for hours in this tubby. Hence the clock. If the cooling water doesn't remind me to get out, the tic-toc clock does.<br />
<br />
But right now, today, this very minute it is gorgeous outside. The sun is shining, a slight breeze is blowing, it's quite warm for October. This is a good day to get outside and work on fallen leaves. And then, and then, and then,.. I'll soak my weary bones, and read a good book for as long as I want. Oh I can hardly wait!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #faf9f6; color: #555555;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while." </span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #faf9f6; color: #555555;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">(from Mark 6:31)</span></b></span></div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-38003987685172811192014-10-16T11:23:00.001-04:002014-10-16T11:23:25.999-04:00How Rejection FeelsPersonally I don't know rejection. Not in a big way, not really. But who knows when that dump truck might visit me. A friend wrote this blog post more than a year ago. It touched my heart then, it's on my heart today...<br />
<br />
<h1 class="entry-title" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; padding: 0px;">
<a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/2013/07/08/so-this-is-how-rejection-feels/" target="_blank">So This is How Rejection Feels</a></h1>
<div class="post-info" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 24px; margin: 5px 0px 15px;">
<span class="date published time" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: url(http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/wp-content/themes/Patheos%20TwentyTen/images/icon-time.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: initial; padding: 2px 0px 2px 21px;" title="2013-07-08T11:28:28+00:00">July 8, 2013</span> by <span class="author vcard"><span class="fn"><a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/author/scottrell/" rel="author" sl-processed="1" style="color: #666666;" title="Susan Cottrell">Susan Cottrell</a></span></span> </div>
<div class="entry-content" style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">
<div class="pf-content">
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
<a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/" rel="attachment wp-att-2300" sl-processed="1" style="color: #0066cc;" target="_blank"><img alt="love-one-another-john-traci-beeson" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-2300" src="http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/files/2013/07/love-one-another-john-traci-beeson1.jpg?w=300" height="310" style="border: none; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; max-width: 98%;" width="354" /></a></div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
I had a big argument with someone very close to me today, a mentor. Someone I love very much. She was angry at me for my blog, saying I am being unfair to Christians who <em>are</em> kind and loving, that it goes both ways, that we hear only stories of Christians’ anger toward LGBTQ instead of love.</div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
She told me about a Christian woman who had served two gay men for years in her printing business, but finally said she could not print their wedding invitations because it went against her beliefs as a Christian. And they sued her. (I wondered if she ever printed invitations for weddings for non-Christians or second marriages.) Sigh.</div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
It hurts to be at odds with someone I love. I don’t know where it will go from here. And I have lost other friends. Even my kids have been unfriended because of my blog. That doesn’t really seem right, does it? Dissension on a tough topic is not really welcome among Christians.</div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
But all the while, these words came to me: I am not called to be fair. As a Christian, I am called to share the love of Christ regardless of the response. I am called to go two miles with someone who required only one. I am called to love my neighbor. If someone sues me for my shirt, I am to give him my coat as well. I’m called to be the love of Christ, even when it requires great sacrifice. I am the one with the Spirit of the Living God in me — it’s the very least I can do. I am to give to others out of His overabundant love. If I am taken advantage of, oh well.</div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
I know as I write this how outrageous it sounds, to love so radically. But Jesus said outrageous things, until the religious leaders killed Him. I don’t have the answers to the questions around this issue. But I do know the way we treat each other has to change. People who discover their same-sex attraction invariably <em>plead </em>with God to take it away (because of the rejection they know is coming), but He rarely does. Many who go through “reorientation” become self-loathing and suicidal. (When has a Christian become suicidal because of their treatment by (an) LGBTQ (person)?) Some people come to peace with their same-sex attraction. Some seek a longterm same-sex relationship. Some commit to lifelong celibacy. Jesus calls us to love people where they are, not where we wish they were.</div>
<div style="padding: 0px 0px 15px;">
My calling always is to help people find peace on the <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/2013/07/02/a-tale-of-two-trees-why-we-are-all-asking-the-wrong-question/" sl-processed="1" style="color: #0066cc;" target="_blank" title="A Tale of Two Trees: Why We Are All Asking the Wrong Question">Tree of Life</a> rather than clinging to the Tree of Knowledge. I’m sorry if you are a Christian who is offended by what I write. I can’t help it. I’m not writing it to offend; I’m writing to extend the love of Christ. We have no excuse to do otherwise. I pray that you will join me.</div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">Read more: <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/2013/07/08/so-this-is-how-rejection-feels/#ixzz3GJqvo3Ws" style="color: #003399; text-decoration: none;">http://www.patheos.com/blogs/freedhearts/2013/07/08/so-this-is-how-rejection-feels/#ixzz3GJqvo3Ws</a></span><br />
<br />
This reminded me...some time ago there was a lot of hubbub on Facebook about LGBT people and their Pride parades. A friend or two of mine shared memes about their own right to have Pride parades or special days to celebrate being straight. Well guess what? We've got the right, but you've missed the point. Thank the God who made you that you don't need a special day reminding you, you're okay and very much loved just the way you are.<br />
<br />
Love is what gets us into the kingdom of heaven. God's love, Jesus' love. If you know that, share it.Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-86579391255784402282014-10-15T09:58:00.000-04:002014-10-15T09:58:54.470-04:00My Sister, Kathy's Tribute to our Mother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUpujfxPB_32ARrguUPNwMqIZ1j-0uU42VDH1qsZJR966WOTj6naIEN-6UXcWP45V1BUeNS5Ne21J5T107NIhlO1abWiYRdTyexnzJy99nTPN5jsA07EfvQzarh_KnVzmPxad9wcoXD8n/s1600/Mom+2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUpujfxPB_32ARrguUPNwMqIZ1j-0uU42VDH1qsZJR966WOTj6naIEN-6UXcWP45V1BUeNS5Ne21J5T107NIhlO1abWiYRdTyexnzJy99nTPN5jsA07EfvQzarh_KnVzmPxad9wcoXD8n/s1600/Mom+2013.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;">All she
left was a smile; one smile that was one hundred thousand million smiles, each
sunnier than the one before. It was the out-pouring of her charm and it came as
naturally to her as breathing. She bluffed even doctors and nurses with that
blooming smile, even when she was in pain and discomfort, her pleasant and
cheery grin would spread across her face and light up her eyes in greeting: a
radiant, glorious smile, full of fun and mischief.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;">And you
can see that smile on the face of each of her seven children, we all inherited
it and, truthfully, it comes as natural as breathing to every one of us, too.
It has helped each of us. People have known from that smile what they knew from
Gloria’s: that they are liked, simply and cheerfully liked, no matter who they
are, that smile tells them that there is something likable about them. And so,
as it is a catchy smile, they always smile back. (Well, except for
some real ornery ones, but none of them are here today!)</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;">When she
died, and so many friends and acquaintances sympathized with me in palpable
sincerity, all I could say to them was: “She was my mother, she taught me to
smile”.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;">She taught
us, her tribe of seven children, a lot of things and we all used all of what
she taught us to our individual best. We will go on cherishing our merry,
starry memories of our mother and loving her forever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;">And her love and her very
being will shine out through us... all the days of our lives. May our smiles be continuing cheer for our Dad.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3T54yuTCeLezO7xX4v-dImIirg69KVUo1s5PD8wLGFrAZQJBuIago2jPqwTBxlIfl-TwuyYye_8ho6nvn0SHirmsbVVGKyZ3bUeUM9KB_LpmtnsVdE2s-yn7Y_F399jbVq7McCMxBFutf/s1600/IMG_2208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3T54yuTCeLezO7xX4v-dImIirg69KVUo1s5PD8wLGFrAZQJBuIago2jPqwTBxlIfl-TwuyYye_8ho6nvn0SHirmsbVVGKyZ3bUeUM9KB_LpmtnsVdE2s-yn7Y_F399jbVq7McCMxBFutf/s1600/IMG_2208.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's a lotta smiles to keep you going Dad. A lot of smiles and a lot of love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK88aVdyGajxPRojWsJ4Nep7OZkqa9ZGWGX1PFuU4ysEiLNo3-z-wwPhKk6mQkc63QY4_S62x8nRO2x731AD_pkzeCMdeF3kHsaYBcd-j6fTOFT9H-dj-yWbz1EiMicUBBQ0Di1w3M4mdC/s1600/Mom+circa+1950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK88aVdyGajxPRojWsJ4Nep7OZkqa9ZGWGX1PFuU4ysEiLNo3-z-wwPhKk6mQkc63QY4_S62x8nRO2x731AD_pkzeCMdeF3kHsaYBcd-j6fTOFT9H-dj-yWbz1EiMicUBBQ0Di1w3M4mdC/s1600/Mom+circa+1950.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Today would be our mom's 84th birthday. I am lucky enough to share her birthday month. We always compared if the leaves were prettier the first week of October or the middle of the month. Some years my birthday week had the most spectacular color, some years her's did. This year it was all her's, and that makes me smile...and makes me miss her all the more.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaCGKJ-v8GzGCv__T-ZGTuUbww9bAtXHyb_uvceYh0RHN4F_b_t0Qtv6yP5QjHwMncA-m52bE_6B9QN9xjumxrINrSVVInXKYKh-NOIFG3hNxe60GjAF6yDIol_CRc5XBrqbVidybnec_/s1600/october.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaCGKJ-v8GzGCv__T-ZGTuUbww9bAtXHyb_uvceYh0RHN4F_b_t0Qtv6yP5QjHwMncA-m52bE_6B9QN9xjumxrINrSVVInXKYKh-NOIFG3hNxe60GjAF6yDIol_CRc5XBrqbVidybnec_/s1600/october.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
Happy Birthday, Mom. Thanks for giving us so much love. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-8770536920700984832014-10-12T22:03:00.000-04:002014-10-13T11:21:52.195-04:00A Praying Mantis, A Talent Show, and a Sermon<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjr_zzo0SkZppNNMPYNzm1me2V5YjzBoVCjHSy1vEz3b2TwTpFymmpQ3IKhTF_DC2Epx9rEnF8HwqbrqdxJJq_cIQJqokbiSTvVXDdXL718ZP05g3Lrks6STs4l0kKHd43cAI-8I9YJWiT/s1600/praying+mantis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjr_zzo0SkZppNNMPYNzm1me2V5YjzBoVCjHSy1vEz3b2TwTpFymmpQ3IKhTF_DC2Epx9rEnF8HwqbrqdxJJq_cIQJqokbiSTvVXDdXL718ZP05g3Lrks6STs4l0kKHd43cAI-8I9YJWiT/s1600/praying+mantis.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a>It was a great Sunday. While out for an afternoon walk on this sunny afternoon it seemed appropriate to come across a praying mantis in a prayerful pose along the side of the road.<br />
<br />
He should be praying that he doesn't get run over by a car. Probably he's praying the guy hovering way too close to him with some strange gadget isn't about to do him harm.<br />
<br />
We left him in peace, enjoying his sunbath.<br />
<br />
At our church it's the season to be reminded of good stewardship practices. This morning's sermon didn't revolve around stewardship, but we had a stewardship event after church, A talent show following a pizza luncheon showcased some of the fine talents within our little church. The acts ran the gamut of silly to serious...all fun, touching, telling, and inspiring. Sunday school children sang and played instruments. One little boy asked if he could pray and blessed us all with his heartfelt words that we would all have a fun time and be safe and that God would be with everyone. (Something like that. I was too enamored by his adorable presence and sincere heart to remember exactly what he said.) Adults sang, told stories, gave testimony and played instruments as well. Each participant offered their talent to make the point, we all have special ways to honor God and bless people. Each person's offering, no matter how small or large, blesses the whole body, our church, and/or our community.<br />
<br />
But before any of that...during church... a sermon from the gospel of Matthew chapter 22. Jesus told a parable about a royal family's wedding banquet. First, invitations were sent out by the king for his son's wedding. But, lo and behold no one could come. (so of course, a little ditty from days gone by began playing in my mind...)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I cannot come...I cannot come to the banquet,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't trouble me now.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have married a wife,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have bought me a cow.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pray hold me excused, I cannot come.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While that was going through my head, the pastor moved on in his message. He must have told the part about the king being incensed and telling his servants to go to the highways and byways and ask them to come in. His feast was ready and the banquet must begin. So they brought in all kinds of people, the good and the bad, until the wedding hall was filled. The good and bad part got my attention.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So when I came back to the present, Pastor was telling the part where the king noticed a guy improperly dressed. He did not have on a wedding robe. (Side note, when he asked the kids during the children's sermon, what they would think if someone came to a fancy party with ripped jeans and a dirty tee-shirt. One youngster piped up right away, "Well I don't judge people's clothes." The pastor turned to us grown ups and said. "Good answer. My job here is done." Gotta love those kiddos and a pastor who can roll with it when kids say the darnedest things.)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Back to the sermon. The guest who appeared at the wedding without a proper robe was bound and cast out to a place where there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Whoa, no warning, no chance to go home and change, just plain...you're out, "For many are called, but few are chosen." </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The pharisees knew Jesus was speaking of them and they didn't like it. Nor would I, if I were them. And he wasn't talking about what kind of clothes anyone was wearing. The deeper meaning, my take away -- everyone and his sister has been invited to heaven. Those who don't refuse to put on the covering of Jesus are chosen.<br />
<br />
I phrased that last sentence the way I did on purpose. The wedding guest who came improperly dressed made a choice to do so. It was a calculated, in-your-face decision, and he knew better.<br />
<br />
These are my thoughts, not my pastor's words. I'm well aware you can't build a theology around a parable. But, you can build a theology around Jesus, his death and his resurrection -- an incredible demonstration of God's love for all people. He is not willing that any should perish. </div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-87377436192212951842014-10-11T19:17:00.000-04:002014-10-11T19:17:28.806-04:00Deep Thoughts for us Tragically Shallow Christians Don't take that title personally. I'm not -- I know I said "us", but really it's not about you and me. It's about "them," those tragically shallow Christians. It's certainly not about anyone quoted in this blog post. I thoroughly appreciated Preston Sprinkle's commentary on some points from Rob Bell's book, Love Wins. As with any book there are points some people will agree with and some they won't. As for me, I'm fond of the premise: Love wins. How cool is that?<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/theologyintheraw/2014/10/is-having-a-personal-relationship-with-jesus-a-biblical-concept/?utm_source=SilverpopMailing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Evangelical%2010%2009%202014%20(1)&utm_content=&spMailingID=47149711&spUserID=MTA1OTI5NDk0ODc2S0&spJobID=541087923&spReportId=NTQxMDg3OTIzS0" target="_blank">From a blog post by Preston Sprinkle over at Theology in the Raw</a>...</b><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">Did you get that? The fullness of God is not in your individual heart and it’s not on some mountain </span><a class="ext-link" data-wpel-target="_new" href="http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/theologyintheraw/files/2014/10/meandjesus.jpg" rel="external nofollow" sl-processed="1" style="color: #0066cc; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; text-decoration: none;" title=""><img alt="meandjesus" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-134" height="124" src="http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/theologyintheraw/files/2014/10/meandjesus.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(221, 221, 221); display: inline; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; max-width: none; padding: 4px;" width="128" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">top away from civilization. It’s in the church—that messy gathering of broken, high-maintenance people that we “have” to go to every Sunday (and if you’re in the Midwest, every Wednesday as well). Paul goes on to call this church the temple of the Lord where “you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit” (Eph. 2:21). Again, Paul prays that “you may be filled with all the fullness of God” (Eph. 3:19), which he already said resides in the local body (1:23). This is why God gave us spiritual gifts (Eph. 4:11-12), so that the body of Christ would be built up, made mature, and become unified where the “fullness of Christ” would radiate (Eph. 4:12-13).</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><br /><br />Read more: <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/theologyintheraw/2014/10/is-having-a-personal-relationship-with-jesus-a-biblical-concept/#ixzz3FrSnRU2e" style="color: #003399; text-decoration: none;">http://www.patheos.com/blogs/theologyintheraw/2014/10/is-having-a-personal-relationship-with-jesus-a-biblical-concept/#ixzz3FrSnRU2e</a></span><br />
<br />
All week I've been pondering deep thoughts...yeah, me and Jack Handy. Was that his name? The Saturday Night Live guy.<br />
<br />
My son, Aaron, preached a series called the Deeper Life, which I've enjoyed immensely.. I'm leading a Bible study next week on God's call on our lives "We Are Called". And my daily devotional readings this past week are all feeding the same theme. So all of this is coming together, converging on my heart and mind. And then this article by Preston Sprinkle. It kind of pulled it all together for me. "<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">The fullness of God is not in your individual heart... The fullness of God is in the church." It's the church that keeps me from living a shallow Christian life.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">Now, to tie that in with God's call on my life -- the same for me as it is for everyone else -- to live in communion with God and people: simply doing what I'm led to do, which is often a matter of doing what is put in front of me, doing the next thing, then enjoying the blessing of a better life for it, and finally, finishing well. Because there is an end point for all of us in this world. It is appointed for people to die and after that...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">Well, after that, I want to see God face to face and hear him say, "Well done."</span><br />
<br />
But until then, I do want to live a good life, one that is pleasing to God. I want to love and help my neighbors along the way. All along the way, right up to the finish. Help my neighbors, no matter the disguise they wear.<br />
<br />
So, that's what I've been thinking about, studying, and writing about in my secret notebooks. And if it's not too prideful to say, I want to be above average as a follower of Jesus. Especially after hearing this quote from A. W. Tozer, I want to be above average. I'll stop with this...another bit I borrowed from Aaron's sermon. He quoted A.W. Tozer. "To speak of the deeper life is not to speak of anything deeper than simple New Testament religion. ...The deeper life is deeper only because the average Christian life is tragically shallow."<br />
<br />
Huh. How do you like them apples? I don't think the good preacher meant to insult any (or all) of us, he was simply making a significant point. And as for me, point taken.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-i3KPY6IrKPQkBwjBQ8OTRE8mpTKBy4vcnbt2sCR4c2VV1ztFfa1lAP8z2OUd-RLjdCN7CDh8cV-7CR32L_En_bMpcx18Eq5MWhw_t8TKnMBHH7QnXGuoDBFDsel9hcSIfL6k5cLN9lka/s1600/8893_10200772243802928_1334759495_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-i3KPY6IrKPQkBwjBQ8OTRE8mpTKBy4vcnbt2sCR4c2VV1ztFfa1lAP8z2OUd-RLjdCN7CDh8cV-7CR32L_En_bMpcx18Eq5MWhw_t8TKnMBHH7QnXGuoDBFDsel9hcSIfL6k5cLN9lka/s1600/8893_10200772243802928_1334759495_n.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I continue to be encouraged by the whole idea that love wins...It's a very basic thought. God is love, so yeah, He wins.Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-54852583845240525642014-10-08T10:47:00.002-04:002014-10-08T10:50:44.168-04:00The Red MoonCoaxed out of bed...robe on top of pajamas, coat on top of robe, rubber shoes over slipper socks and out the door at 6:30 to see the red moon eclipsed. Totally worth it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ps4py3R_Isf1wwsk24bMUkCbUmDHXHeU3ipz7M7MdFEISBFkhyphenhyphenIqfGii23DlbSZXL-7JbTFvwa52QYxN81hdbkY1DilCrdgIFGkmxBjnEgxYgwKDlnZnTw5Wcu5XGQ6wZppfd215P1dz/s1600/RedMoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ps4py3R_Isf1wwsk24bMUkCbUmDHXHeU3ipz7M7MdFEISBFkhyphenhyphenIqfGii23DlbSZXL-7JbTFvwa52QYxN81hdbkY1DilCrdgIFGkmxBjnEgxYgwKDlnZnTw5Wcu5XGQ6wZppfd215P1dz/s1600/RedMoon.jpg" height="386" width="400" /></a></div>
This pic is from Photobucket.<br />
<br />
Here's one from Yahoo news.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKNS0I5hg6nP9G_R4P90-hifi1INvrrCWl1uQ_pm47Ry7c3_vXlFXU1XLQdQHiq2zXXx8rzdUWibv-3WbsRfpQoGDG-LnJuOP0YR1f3zxhwvLKnQLEp7aI-Vx9PIKgaYj-yu3ZQOlWOjY/s1600/lunar-eclipses-widef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKNS0I5hg6nP9G_R4P90-hifi1INvrrCWl1uQ_pm47Ry7c3_vXlFXU1XLQdQHiq2zXXx8rzdUWibv-3WbsRfpQoGDG-LnJuOP0YR1f3zxhwvLKnQLEp7aI-Vx9PIKgaYj-yu3ZQOlWOjY/s1600/lunar-eclipses-widef.jpg" height="136" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Amazing, simply amazing. Isn't it?<br />
<br />
It was a surprisingly balmy morning. Tom took Phoebe for a walk at 5:30. He couldn't stand to have me miss such a fabulous sight, hence, the wake up call while it was still dark thirty.<br />
<br />Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-54041281281022617192014-10-03T20:14:00.001-04:002014-10-03T20:14:24.628-04:00Fall Flowers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowFSXBTmILqg66MEXdTMBkxAQR2TG8OVRfYJD7g92DBt2MRAT3EUtoJ1SZuT4QPELZW85oWnhv8xG7cbEJxcHrf_7BUotYmHX66K89zkFhmrOo_JmUQWxb9wZ2GTjTFypamCaTm1ccni1/s1600/IMG_2698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhowFSXBTmILqg66MEXdTMBkxAQR2TG8OVRfYJD7g92DBt2MRAT3EUtoJ1SZuT4QPELZW85oWnhv8xG7cbEJxcHrf_7BUotYmHX66K89zkFhmrOo_JmUQWxb9wZ2GTjTFypamCaTm1ccni1/s1600/IMG_2698.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Mums and sunflowers with spent black-eyed-susans in the background. The done-for flowers need trimmed back, but for now, I'll just position prettier posies to distract the eyes of on-lookers.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Soon frost will get the dahlias, draining color, choking out life.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kslFXjjYMdfVlYC5-nXaqumUuZxjI1zOLcnkNF3li14iP928aI0f-tCUqLiFes0e4wc_7I1Y__h1oa21ehPjxcn9gmE9NCk6jL90rON21lBXOr00FJJ-8_CCz04DM8PN_o-OjL0ctZGs/s1600/IMG_2695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kslFXjjYMdfVlYC5-nXaqumUuZxjI1zOLcnkNF3li14iP928aI0f-tCUqLiFes0e4wc_7I1Y__h1oa21ehPjxcn9gmE9NCk6jL90rON21lBXOr00FJJ-8_CCz04DM8PN_o-OjL0ctZGs/s1600/IMG_2695.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM5UYF2yCkP1_-NVqn707ZQ4FKUYQh-MNm5EtI7vh6QtHsxY2ZDvm4__nodU122lxWzGWALw9QDPkTVmrilINqCagdgBLcoanrAk6NI2_TgYSFKFBVEFgJd0nWRrVARRNTTxxtnSatmc5/s1600/IMG_2703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuM5UYF2yCkP1_-NVqn707ZQ4FKUYQh-MNm5EtI7vh6QtHsxY2ZDvm4__nodU122lxWzGWALw9QDPkTVmrilINqCagdgBLcoanrAk6NI2_TgYSFKFBVEFgJd0nWRrVARRNTTxxtnSatmc5/s1600/IMG_2703.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a>Bumble Bee will steal his last sips of nectar first.<br />
<br />
Drink deep. Sleep well. Winter is cold and long.Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-60028060651721416222014-10-02T17:18:00.000-04:002014-10-02T17:31:22.564-04:00Good Stock<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkk1FRCoLbmeu2LkATq-c9fu7oinCywC1E9glos2fBwzKRNA2oZwgTwI19acOrv48WwAJvP1B92zViv9RS33mE993pg_iMi2eoJPKQKxBg7blABAM7oVpgRX6dyW2wp28q9QzOaEjrhS7/s1600/2014-07-04+16.52.53+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkk1FRCoLbmeu2LkATq-c9fu7oinCywC1E9glos2fBwzKRNA2oZwgTwI19acOrv48WwAJvP1B92zViv9RS33mE993pg_iMi2eoJPKQKxBg7blABAM7oVpgRX6dyW2wp28q9QzOaEjrhS7/s1600/2014-07-04+16.52.53+cropped.jpg" height="185" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Heritage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You know what? I come from good stock. I didn't always appreciate that...heck, I didn't even know it for a long time. And even when it did begin to dawn on me -- I have good roots, and I had an incredibly good childhood, I don't think I gave credit where credit was due. I grew up in a functional family and it never occurred to me to celebrate that.<br />
<br />
I come from a large family, one of seven siblings...sadly, now six. Mother was one of 10 children, but a sister died in infancy. Dad had 5 brothers and sisters. That makes for 13 aunts and uncles, 12 of whom were married adding an aunt for each uncle and vice-verse. Naturally there are scads of cousins sharing one or the other set of grandparents. The grandparents are all gone now and we remain...their legacy.<br />
<br />
I hope we do them proud.<br />
<br />
Some of them were first generation Americans. Pappy Kubasik spoke eight languages and assisted immigrants applying for U.S. citizenship. Pappy Bruce worked in the steel mill in Johnstown, His parents survived the Johnstown Flood of 1889. Yes, I hailed from good stock, and they hailed from Scotland and Italy, England and Slovakia, staunch Presbyterians and strict Catholics. Our family was a melting pot of its own. Perhaps that's why we were taught tolerance and acceptance.<br />
<br />
I can't say we were taught exactly, it's just the way my mom and dad lived. Bigotry was unheard of in our house, there was neither racial nor religious bigotry. The religious part owing to the fact Mom was Catholic and Dad was protestant. My first taste of prejudice came from early years in catechism class. Only Catholics were going to heaven I learned. Huh, what about my dad? I remained faithful to The Church until I became a born-again Christian at the age of 16. Then I followed a new path, one that was by no means free of prejudice. But I couldn't see it. I was far too busy trying to do the right things to please God as instructed by people.<br />
<br />
In my young adult years, stories of Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad, Uncle Tom and his cabin, the shame in killing a mockingbird had dramatic effects on my heart. I'll let you know when I've recovered. The Holocaust became a reality to me through Anne Frank's Diary, Corrie Ten Boom's Hiding Place, and Shindler's List. I don't expect to recover from those stories this side of heaven.<br />
<br />
But the lifestyle truths my grandparents passed on to my parents, who in turn passed on to us kids, keep me putting one foot in front of the other. Pappy Bruce said to always do someone a favor if you can. You'll be paying back a kindness done for you that you couldn't repay at the time. There's an expression for that now: Pay it forward. I've seen it lived out. I hope my kids have too. Pappy Kubasik admonished his 9 living children: Right is right if no one's right, and wrong is wrong if the whole world's wrong. He exemplified integrity, developing good character in his children, who demonstrated the same for theirs. My Grandma Bruce was a saint. I know this because my mother thought the world of her mother-in-law. Not one unkind word or hint of tension passed between them. We loved going to Grandma Bruce's. Grammy Kubasik, in spite of being widowed in her early 40's was jovial and fun and I always knew she loved me.<br />
<br />
I'm writing this because I did not voice appreciation for my upbringing enough. I don't remember telling my grandparents how much I loved them. I've never thanked my parents for teaching me right from wrong and good from bad just by living it out. Wait, I take that back. Those last days with mom, I did tell her she was a good mom to me -- to all of us, but I was just speaking for myself. I thanked her for so many things. She smiled and nodded. If she'd had the strength she'd have made a joke.<br />
<br />
So Dad gets to hear, or at least read my thanks and appreciation before he's on his deathbed. I trust I'm not getting this in right under the wire! You never know when someone's in their 80's. (That's supposed to make you laugh, Dad.)<br />
<br />
For all the years delay in speaking my gratitude, perhaps choosing right, doing good the best I could, and teaching my children the same, serves as thanks enough. I hope so. I really hope so.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5JfqmC_dk65s7kZ8181jSh3C-atKmKjpR1j2ehwjh0UJ37KEVOGq-2R21T9fEfmtIGHSiPNPsmYi1vNbpNK7IKZllBvdEnc7aqJ5a_GIcocnz3gKxSVx2lX1eYbLZKh_acNsCmd5WKky/s1600/IMG_2699.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5JfqmC_dk65s7kZ8181jSh3C-atKmKjpR1j2ehwjh0UJ37KEVOGq-2R21T9fEfmtIGHSiPNPsmYi1vNbpNK7IKZllBvdEnc7aqJ5a_GIcocnz3gKxSVx2lX1eYbLZKh_acNsCmd5WKky/s1600/IMG_2699.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
In their hearts humans plan their path,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
but the Lord establishes their steps. <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Proverbs 16:9</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
May those who come behind us find us faithful.</div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-5408960727689793852014-10-01T14:32:00.001-04:002014-10-01T14:49:51.293-04:00Inconceivable <div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tnw87nB685f5nYxrszg0nXLEqJPigKhY0GDyPpQvsXCy2xCJ1KplVdios5YXQgyvAox2pKclcYGFxRRXiqb2cpGYERz0yVIOrgVQHpGhxjGQ2KmHA3NBoyaEm9HnOnh1YfNUpo0Knhhy/s1600/princess-bride_2460761b1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tnw87nB685f5nYxrszg0nXLEqJPigKhY0GDyPpQvsXCy2xCJ1KplVdios5YXQgyvAox2pKclcYGFxRRXiqb2cpGYERz0yVIOrgVQHpGhxjGQ2KmHA3NBoyaEm9HnOnh1YfNUpo0Knhhy/s1600/princess-bride_2460761b1.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIP6EwqMEoE" target="_blank">"Inconceivable!" One guy says</a></span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIP6EwqMEoE" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">"You keep using that word." The other guy from Princess Bride says.
"I do not think it means what you think it means."</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Conservative Christian... I keep using that
phrase, but I do not think it means what I think it means. Or maybe I don't
think it means what you think it means.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">con·serv·a·tive<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">kənˈsərvətiv/<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">adjective</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">holding to traditional
attitudes and values and cautious about change or innovation, typically in
relation to politics or religion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.7pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">noun</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">a person who is averse
to change and holds to traditional values and attitudes, typically in relation
to politics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chris·tian<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ˈkrisCHən/<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">adjective</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of, relating to, or
professing Christianity or its teachings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"the Christian
Church"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.75in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">noun</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">a person who has
received Christian baptism or is a believer in Jesus Christ and his teachings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">We frequently put those two
words together, so I Googled “Conservative Christian”... and Ronald Reagan's
picture popped up. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a picture of Jesus,
maybe a picture of me? Nope, I got a picture of the 40th president of the
United States. That's what threw me off, I didn't expect a picture of a
person. </span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">A friend pointed out to me
the phrase Conservative Christian is oxymoronic.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ox·y·mo·ron<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">noun</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;">1.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">a figure of speech in
which apparently contradictory terms appear in conjunction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #555555; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">An oxymoron may
produce a dramatic effect but does not make sense. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Examples:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Open secret<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tragic comedy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Seriously funny<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Awfully pretty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Foolish wisdom<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Original copies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 20.25pt; margin-left: 51.0pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 1.0in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";">o<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Liquid gas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shall we add * Conservative Christian?
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">There was nothing conservative about Jesus, neither was he
liberal. He did not espouse traditional religious or political views and he
held in contempt those who did – calling them white washed tombs full of dead
bones. He brought change. He didn't abolish the Old
Testament Law, He fulfilled it. He brought a religion of love, mercy, and
grace. And those who follow him do well to emulate him. Jesus lavished his love
on us with complete abandon, showed unlimited mercy, offered inconceivable
grace. He was radical! To be like Jesus we’ll have to be radical.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt -0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">rad·i·cal<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">ˈradikəl/</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">noun</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">a person who advocates
thorough or complete political or social (Shall we add religious?) reform<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Jesus</b> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philippians+2%3A5-8&version=NIV" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">What a guy! What a God! And to think,
He didn't exploit his position. </span></a></span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">That's truly Inconceivable! </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Conceivable or not, we ought not to exploit our position as his
followers by being politically, socially, religiously conservative or liberal.
Let's go for radical, offering radical love, radical mercy, and radical grace
one to another. Jesus did it, why can't we? Oh right, He was God and we're not. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, we'll just have to try harder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">It's not like he didn't show us the way. Perhaps those are the
verses in the Bible we're to be concentrating on. Ways to be like Jesus and
what God wants of us...here's one for starters, Micah 6:8.</span><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></b>..<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"> (God has shown you...what is good)</span></div>
<div class="poetry top-05" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;">
<div class="line" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">
<span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Mic-6-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">And what does the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> require of you?</span></span><br />
<span class="text Mic-6-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"> To act justly<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22657A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-22657A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and to love mercy</span><br />
<span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Mic-6-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">and to walk humbly with your God.</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">It's not complicated,
it is conceivable -- obey the two greatest commands: Love God and Love your
neighbor... and you're off and running. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 11.7pt;">
<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 12pt;">On a side note. My
son, Aaron, has a sermon series called <a href="http://www.statecollegecma.com/media.php?pageID=9" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><b>"The Deeper Life"</b></span></a>. It's inspirational
and helpful and full of love, mercy and grace. </span></div>
</div>
</div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-35738130686219663902014-09-25T15:56:00.001-04:002014-09-25T15:56:30.667-04:00Going Places<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1bUpTUZ0IcJFbL9gFWNekPJxo7N2U8GPznAmYDpcMkTjSldBS2irYEEYO809lq84DS70iAgk4IrgCsffXhkgdTCmVLg2gt0FVRHrRscDWCNtqSNFeDJl3lhoNTqzxSracuKCnFb2tcDu/s1600/IMG_2647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1bUpTUZ0IcJFbL9gFWNekPJxo7N2U8GPznAmYDpcMkTjSldBS2irYEEYO809lq84DS70iAgk4IrgCsffXhkgdTCmVLg2gt0FVRHrRscDWCNtqSNFeDJl3lhoNTqzxSracuKCnFb2tcDu/s1600/IMG_2647.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a>It's the time of year when the creek is low and clear, good for fishing. So we go there. We go to the creek, Tom to fish, me to meditate. Just along for the ride, I'm in the canoe...going places in my mind.<br />
<br />
It matters not if we head upstream or down, which ever we choose we have to do the other to get back home. We can paddle or glide either way for half an hour and never leave our own property banks. Landowners don't own the creek. The river runs alongside our property. We push off from our beach and an hour or two later, return.<br />
<br />
It's a very pleasant and peaceful feeling to be at home on the creek. All day my mind occupied itself with troubles, those of friends, enemies, the whole wide world's, and mine. I tried to pray it off, shake it off, walk it off, and work it off, all to little avail. (Certainly not to no avail: prayer is always good, Phoebe loved the walk, and the house, yard, and pool are cleaner for my distress.) So, that evening when Tom suggested we go fishing I acquiesced. I was and am the better for it.<br />
<br />
Trapped in a canoe the only distractions before me were the beauty of nature. I wondered if trees along the bank look at their reflections and assume they grow in water. I wonder if, in some other world, the water trees taunt the images they bear. I wonder if they have contests demanding proof, who is real and who is not. I hope they don't argue about it. In my world each is beautiful and real in their own right. A real tree, a real reflection, that's reality, no need to quibble. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nqnS074PVPPu9EUW912qDwJo4WysL53_qC7trpM-LwhYjX6un6v0O314e8pJFM8TF6ds8zELnMtVlwpKpIYzoLjB8AxchPtzL2vA0i9Huyu2lzaAat5Xrb2FtVyQa9Hd-Ab-dkARmXXP/s1600/Reflection.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nqnS074PVPPu9EUW912qDwJo4WysL53_qC7trpM-LwhYjX6un6v0O314e8pJFM8TF6ds8zELnMtVlwpKpIYzoLjB8AxchPtzL2vA0i9Huyu2lzaAat5Xrb2FtVyQa9Hd-Ab-dkARmXXP/s1600/Reflection.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
We all see through a glass dimly, through a mirror, not always sure what or who we're reflecting.<br />
<br />
I gave over my desire to right wrongs. Only God in heaven can do that. And he knows I'd gladly help -- as in "Here am I, Lord, send me."<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I think I'll concentrate on the reflection I cast. And while going all the places I go, I'll enjoy the ride... of my life. <br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="highl" style="background-color: #fff4ec; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></i>
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="highl" style="background-color: #fff4ec; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known</span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">." <span style="font-size: x-small;">I Cor. 13:12</span></span></i>Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-47284360442662214942014-09-17T11:37:00.000-04:002014-09-17T11:37:48.345-04:00RetreatingRetreating...not as in falling back, as in taking time apart from daily routine...<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
2014 Weekend Retreat for WELCA<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
(Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
NWPA and SWPA<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
At Camp Lutherlyn<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t"
path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f">
<v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/>
<v:formulas>
<v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/>
<v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/>
<v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/>
<v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/>
</v:formulas>
<v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/>
<o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/>
</v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_3" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75"
style='width:255.75pt;height:2in;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square'>
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\BETSY'~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg"
o:title="Retreat Women"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z65sO5KCfZBhSUGwb-vCQWOZLbCUQ1V8kE1-WnO6CG7vAz2D-PsvWGuS5n4R2fizfLWKuWn4agMgaqZH7_CzhBSq_GAsXUbuFN04_2YGRaGhXAMhoJ9KzxX1m1WY1FXOrGAMYYli0QRu/s1600/Retreat+Women.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z65sO5KCfZBhSUGwb-vCQWOZLbCUQ1V8kE1-WnO6CG7vAz2D-PsvWGuS5n4R2fizfLWKuWn4agMgaqZH7_CzhBSq_GAsXUbuFN04_2YGRaGhXAMhoJ9KzxX1m1WY1FXOrGAMYYli0QRu/s1600/Retreat+Women.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Seven women from St. Paul's ELCA church in Drakes Mill attended a weekend retreat: Ida Right, Wylda Cole, Juanita
Farias, Mary Alice McMunn, Natalie Stoeger, and me, Betsy Henning. Angela
Morton joined us for the day on Saturday, staying till after dark for a very
fun sing-around-the-campfire time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" style='position:absolute;
margin-left:0;margin-top:360.75pt;width:184pt;height:245.25pt;z-index:251658240;
visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square;mso-width-percent:0;
mso-height-percent:0;mso-wrap-distance-left:9pt;mso-wrap-distance-top:0;
mso-wrap-distance-right:9pt;mso-wrap-distance-bottom:0;
mso-position-horizontal:left;mso-position-horizontal-relative:margin;
mso-position-vertical:absolute;mso-position-vertical-relative:margin;
mso-width-percent:0;mso-height-percent:0;mso-width-relative:margin;
mso-height-relative:margin'>
<v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\BETSY'~1\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image003.jpg"
o:title="Chapel Hill upright"/>
<w:wrap type="square" anchorx="margin" anchory="margin"/>
</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--> Spiritual Well Being was our retreat theme.
Bible lessons, services, devotionals, workshops and fun shops throughout the
weekend encouraged spiritual well-being in five areas: social, intellectual,
vocational, physical and emotional. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Apparently I
wasn't paying close enough attention when I registered, I signed up for both
physical well-being workshop and physical fun shop. The morning workshop had us
walking Lutherlyn campus taking in the amphitheater and passing the
impressive and off-limits-to-us high ropes, climbing wall, zip-line arena. We
meandered through woods and caught a glimpse of the upper and lower lakes on
our way to Chapel Hill. I’d never been to Chapel Hill before, and an awe
inspiring sight surprised me. A magnificent cross, stone altar, and plank
benches surrounded by trees create a beautiful setting for outdoor worship,
absolutely beautiful! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZafwtNsloLfcc8xiLMu6dJmxEZONfprEqL9BlefN4XoslvTOlVWU0qT8_b0nAhO3bz1qp1ugC3k7q-fBFaIKY8-ajDUHKgoPMCIbnNAblSoyuOKsUD85sbSM9Ep8cu_fpEC8wwXxAsygQ/s1600/Chapel+Hill+upright.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZafwtNsloLfcc8xiLMu6dJmxEZONfprEqL9BlefN4XoslvTOlVWU0qT8_b0nAhO3bz1qp1ugC3k7q-fBFaIKY8-ajDUHKgoPMCIbnNAblSoyuOKsUD85sbSM9Ep8cu_fpEC8wwXxAsygQ/s1600/Chapel+Hill+upright.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The walk
fulfilled more than my need for physical well-being…it added to my emotional,
intellectual, vocational, and social well-being as well. Much of that thanks to
my walking partner, Angie Morton. She reminisced about her years at Camp Lutherlyn
as a child adding an insider’s knowledge to the tour. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Later in the
day I attended a Zumba session just for fun, but it turned out to be just for
torture. Oh my goodness, a person my age ought to build up to that level of
activity before literally jumping in. The other gals participated in fun shops
like “take home craft,” “front porching,” “sit and be fit,” and “prayer in
color”. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
highlights of my weekend retreat, aside from delightful fellowship with sisters
in Christ, were the Saturday evening Healing Service with Pastor Arlene
Schweitzer, and the Sunday morning worship service at Chapel Hill with Pastor
Susan Irons. I’m richer for having attended the WELCA Weekend Retreat, refreshed
(though physically exhausted), better balanced, and most important, my
Spiritual Well Being tank is full.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Natalie Stoeger, Angela Morton, and I took a walk on our own during some free time -- 3 generations we were -- walking together. Natalie is a senior in high school, adding youth to our women's group. Angie is only a bit older than my own children. Way back when, she was our neighbor and a babysitter for my little boys, who, as I recall, tormented her unmercifully -- all in good fun because they liked her so well. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Lf_0rpzl2EYEzzrnUr9Nq0mzqh61IcjQMS-zluKez-zPQJXDiP7vUu8tpNotvNub2YRuLq0-JvInirVkUGec69CgDy5tyVNLpMKMA0f32D48ukJCXTfLji_lzuEAoIpJfQlRqwWYpMK9/s1600/Walking+Partners.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Lf_0rpzl2EYEzzrnUr9Nq0mzqh61IcjQMS-zluKez-zPQJXDiP7vUu8tpNotvNub2YRuLq0-JvInirVkUGec69CgDy5tyVNLpMKMA0f32D48ukJCXTfLji_lzuEAoIpJfQlRqwWYpMK9/s1600/Walking+Partners.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Angie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKc4qEmNMO4ud3jbX51qurW-5L4WGliT6yS4aapHsrKpD25amuQmh0XAZpHSUXOln2ImyzOWmk3BJmEykxSMDFkYfAp080Xj9vcYQm1dGu3cRkdGVoIIDiMKL7_TxIY6WtedT7yNIjzdU2/s1600/Nat+and+Nana.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKc4qEmNMO4ud3jbX51qurW-5L4WGliT6yS4aapHsrKpD25amuQmh0XAZpHSUXOln2ImyzOWmk3BJmEykxSMDFkYfAp080Xj9vcYQm1dGu3cRkdGVoIIDiMKL7_TxIY6WtedT7yNIjzdU2/s1600/Nat+and+Nana.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Natalie and her exuberant, always fun, Nana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsAU06sf5f__5ZBHN9fhvIk-y_vZanFbd4BqxVuvrnr_DMMVfH9afJAT2hNMejKBiWc8cWEa_ubq6JqCXAp-OPGQs3VM7Qn8TQ2z6W1Z41utL1a_Dj-mxsVyq8povWZ-QHYFCOdtt5MTZ/s1600/Nat+top+bunk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsAU06sf5f__5ZBHN9fhvIk-y_vZanFbd4BqxVuvrnr_DMMVfH9afJAT2hNMejKBiWc8cWEa_ubq6JqCXAp-OPGQs3VM7Qn8TQ2z6W1Z41utL1a_Dj-mxsVyq8povWZ-QHYFCOdtt5MTZ/s1600/Nat+top+bunk.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course we gave the kid the top bunk.<br />Natalie making her bed </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-64269303846150762482014-09-03T12:41:00.001-04:002014-09-03T15:22:09.309-04:00Write It Down, Don't Think It Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiodemnxObyYG0nndf7J2S_Aau6Gf3JHbzgS4X8WygmwAc2lSodswmCxbxup80UkLnoXKYlQG7DedYZhd43-D18jhlBKekq72U7sdY1MQQwCifM9WR2zHZVb55DbkotvBJz1Z74DylsLUR/s1600/Right+to+Write+upright.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiodemnxObyYG0nndf7J2S_Aau6Gf3JHbzgS4X8WygmwAc2lSodswmCxbxup80UkLnoXKYlQG7DedYZhd43-D18jhlBKekq72U7sdY1MQQwCifM9WR2zHZVb55DbkotvBJz1Z74DylsLUR/s1600/Right+to+Write+upright.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'm reading and working through Julia Cameron's book The Right to Write. Her chapter titled "This Writing Life" makes so much sense to me...but it's tripping me up. You see I'm about 50 years behind on the write-it-down edict. I didn't journal faithfully through my youth or my young adult life, and I don't journal faithfully now. Or at least I don't think I do. But if that's true, if I haven't written over the years, why do I have, like, 15 notebooks filled page after page with my musings, rants, prayers, and prose? Why are there files and folders on my laptop filled with compositions, essays, articles, and devotionals? Why am I believing I haven't written, don't write enough, and it's too late for me to become a writer? I am a writer...even if I stink at blogging.<br />
<br />
I began blogging in 2005 when my third son, Adam, was going off to war. In 1998 he signed up to serve in the military and get some assistance with college tuition. Our country was at peace with the rest of the world at that time. Then in 2001, 9-11 happened. As a reserve commissioned officer he was called up right after graduation. Adam began his own blog for the purpose of figuring out and remembering his life. Those were the days when people asked, "What's a blog?". It's a log kept on a website, a weblog. A blog is your own personal journal... posted online for all the world to see. And anyone, absolutely anyone can blog. Isn't that a great thing? I mean, what could possibly go wrong? But that's another post for another day!<br />
<br />
Adam helped me start a blog and showed me the ropes so I could make posts for him to read while stationed in Iraq. A taste of home, family news and updates, and pictures to keep us tethered. I posted often. I posted for an audience of one, but in reality had a large family following. Friends and family read my blog where I offered a glimpse into our lives here in northwest PA. But I lived for Adam's blogs in those days. They were a lifeline to us, a guarded peek into the goings on of military maneuvers and daily life in FOBs (Forward Operating Base). His posts served as a meter for us to rest easy or pray harder. Little did we know, he kept the fearful worst from us until he returned home safe and sound. Or at least as sound as one can be after living so close to the trauma of war.<br />
<br />
That was all long ago and far away. Now, what purpose do I have in blogging? A journal for sure, but as that, most of it is kept private. In my list of posts there are many more unpublished drafts than published posts. I don't want to bother people with my thoughts and fears, questions about the meaning of life and my purpose in the here and now. There are drafts expressing my political opinions and faith convictions -- which change and grow as my notions change and grow in understanding who God is and who I am in relation to him.<br />
<br />
And that brings me full circle. There's a lot going on in this rather limited brain of mine, a lot of things to sort out, to laugh at, to act on, to clean up or clear out. Yes, Julia Cameron, I think I get it. There is much rattling around in my head wanting to be written down, and therefore, no need spending minutes, hours, days trying to think something up. Instead, just write it down.<br />
<br />
Yeah, write it down and get outside...summer won't last forever.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVIeXmrxlWaLo9CHPPSahAkJw2uT9lYHm0OTaS5xMigBB2lEW8b5nVB7LgOcMn8VqVngHk_rTG-EYu7xoxzwIgDuvu1Iqhpw3yj20D0EZstsnfbzc1_Q01PMlpPfh_92BpnqnOXqulBDT/s1600/IMG_2525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVIeXmrxlWaLo9CHPPSahAkJw2uT9lYHm0OTaS5xMigBB2lEW8b5nVB7LgOcMn8VqVngHk_rTG-EYu7xoxzwIgDuvu1Iqhpw3yj20D0EZstsnfbzc1_Q01PMlpPfh_92BpnqnOXqulBDT/s1600/IMG_2525.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-76632037218104536582014-08-15T23:31:00.000-04:002014-08-16T09:43:46.564-04:00Black-Eyed Susans, Flocks, and a Hummingbird Moth <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhMliNw9jpFkfKrZVjLkZd5CQv2lPG_C-cfPXj87OMMluF2DfG5zGLk64veURzQLb5KhJ-q_Egyj2fkhtyergjLgcW0w0aHjFSIapoLR_C-uAUWc5tflwx3NPvUnaOxUuztXsEX7ojtxe/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhMliNw9jpFkfKrZVjLkZd5CQv2lPG_C-cfPXj87OMMluF2DfG5zGLk64veURzQLb5KhJ-q_Egyj2fkhtyergjLgcW0w0aHjFSIapoLR_C-uAUWc5tflwx3NPvUnaOxUuztXsEX7ojtxe/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's a banner year for our golden posies!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fTGaiXcUNMvM7bClVdKyk9jKFZeH_W0IwTg5vB06bx1OHdufIM7ip263VTjB3Di8Iu0wwg35YjMppxm7gQ53cqTb_EfyQnAarL09zHjOusSAUJ5du0u4kX2GqGdoGLm8C7tOWohr__RY/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fTGaiXcUNMvM7bClVdKyk9jKFZeH_W0IwTg5vB06bx1OHdufIM7ip263VTjB3Di8Iu0wwg35YjMppxm7gQ53cqTb_EfyQnAarL09zHjOusSAUJ5du0u4kX2GqGdoGLm8C7tOWohr__RY/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
This guy startled me when he buzzed nearby. He's fascinating but scary and I wondered what kind of insect it might be. Mystery solved. Tom says it's a hummingbird moth. Now it's not nearly as frightening.<br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://3390F288-07F8-4142-9D6B-E57DE1184C80/imagejpeg" />Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-65492077639635061622014-08-03T16:30:00.000-04:002014-08-03T19:49:28.065-04:00Fickle Weather, Funny Little GirlsUnless you live near enough to run home at a moment's notice it's hard to plan a swim date at my house this summer. If the sun's out, come quick!<br />
<br />
The weather can go from this...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviP4iU7rsXM3FMy-qi1Qkxula2kCUKi2n6p66X_qCrhFV43AcPSDtGUWEJALNOCEVfNJqSEFW0PUOjWnpyLTMtVjzY6MRLnmfSpv6VpR48jOFcbXEAT8a0wplDV5whVQH6vDzZo5RCvic/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviP4iU7rsXM3FMy-qi1Qkxula2kCUKi2n6p66X_qCrhFV43AcPSDtGUWEJALNOCEVfNJqSEFW0PUOjWnpyLTMtVjzY6MRLnmfSpv6VpR48jOFcbXEAT8a0wplDV5whVQH6vDzZo5RCvic/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
to this...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZbvwvVsuM1KC3KeJqb-QLSxyNQKC7U0PT0SigRifylJa-CqMpN5mQgytyoKwAaToXavTDZU8rVDUdvN0GCgi-jurnnJLdTdo0cNYjccXsqUO39mivHJrk4HyRMGIznT8HJtqU0FEvFJ_/s1600/IMG_2480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZbvwvVsuM1KC3KeJqb-QLSxyNQKC7U0PT0SigRifylJa-CqMpN5mQgytyoKwAaToXavTDZU8rVDUdvN0GCgi-jurnnJLdTdo0cNYjccXsqUO39mivHJrk4HyRMGIznT8HJtqU0FEvFJ_/s1600/IMG_2480.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
in not much more than the blink of an eye.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But we're still enjoying the pool and certainly love when people come over. Here's a picture of two of the regulars. I kind of consider them my own, and aren't they sweet as can be?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJdFfog-cP4RUeEm9NAGIEFhBWdWW10Xet5NC02bpIo-jk_kZ_a4zIigmPD7PZdusPi8Vgw0OOiz0m56VRZqV_j7QCmusSgPi5qGPXon6dx7nb46bPfa19_gdkP6MKkDFwGcxDn_q_miT/s1600/IMG_2495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJdFfog-cP4RUeEm9NAGIEFhBWdWW10Xet5NC02bpIo-jk_kZ_a4zIigmPD7PZdusPi8Vgw0OOiz0m56VRZqV_j7QCmusSgPi5qGPXon6dx7nb46bPfa19_gdkP6MKkDFwGcxDn_q_miT/s1600/IMG_2495.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
But sometimes they're goofy as all get out!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-eFT5Cnp_xGcwYk8CHYFXrHbrsJ4n1WSF-5VzXZPnXn2smvDg65Wers3XyCYnLzSh5rKqhILAqKrc70JJpbdIlWPEzZrTUDCe3Z9nl4H41d6vsdF2wAenowfbcSLSDjAhbJiKLLzk6wj/s1600/IMG_2494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-eFT5Cnp_xGcwYk8CHYFXrHbrsJ4n1WSF-5VzXZPnXn2smvDg65Wers3XyCYnLzSh5rKqhILAqKrc70JJpbdIlWPEzZrTUDCe3Z9nl4H41d6vsdF2wAenowfbcSLSDjAhbJiKLLzk6wj/s1600/IMG_2494.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-87651997098873816972014-07-22T09:58:00.000-04:002014-07-22T10:00:06.908-04:00Renovations and Regeneration<div>
We got our living room back in order just under the wire, right before the Henning family began arriving for the Cousins Reunion.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheiPwP_Yt1VXXb9ANSAR7lZIVYRXf6eF3jx_EzjY-fhuiqFOWQ9_4gSf1YacNQ2mxqlghP2XxA19PfJaJP0JDJoH4s9JgY7TevjaNSsxV8ee8m8lwIMtt4AgtrOKhy2TSsC-33zI0TIUz/s1600/IMG_2419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheiPwP_Yt1VXXb9ANSAR7lZIVYRXf6eF3jx_EzjY-fhuiqFOWQ9_4gSf1YacNQ2mxqlghP2XxA19PfJaJP0JDJoH4s9JgY7TevjaNSsxV8ee8m8lwIMtt4AgtrOKhy2TSsC-33zI0TIUz/s1600/IMG_2419.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backyard/pool side view of the living room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSka5PpXhS4srqFoxkwQw8pwUHn7yWYStA2PK9kYEFb63NtgkqSSpkCKuGqIL7aCeLjF_EtzHp62n-MEyYiCQEPQa7-g92HEQhJMovwMYMhXEKeEYJ1EMI6MiobB0MDr0DNF5_hwoxfTPA/s1600/IMG_2414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSka5PpXhS4srqFoxkwQw8pwUHn7yWYStA2PK9kYEFb63NtgkqSSpkCKuGqIL7aCeLjF_EtzHp62n-MEyYiCQEPQa7-g92HEQhJMovwMYMhXEKeEYJ1EMI6MiobB0MDr0DNF5_hwoxfTPA/s1600/IMG_2414.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front porch/yard view of the living room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAq98HaYPora8bIIpGsfAb55OzZq12XNR80dyekV1dQL4ZRryEO_NIp0WBBgpzKQVahoV5fviBsD8uZL0bvdc-3C1an4JtHFq5dn-kT39NQuPAIQpPY4wKT9nSwo_V7ro94Udgi7kxj_oF/s1600/IMG_2427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAq98HaYPora8bIIpGsfAb55OzZq12XNR80dyekV1dQL4ZRryEO_NIp0WBBgpzKQVahoV5fviBsD8uZL0bvdc-3C1an4JtHFq5dn-kT39NQuPAIQpPY4wKT9nSwo_V7ro94Udgi7kxj_oF/s1600/IMG_2427.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture above piano --our barn painted by dear friend Toni Jo Kidd</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We're so happy with our home. Through the years we've added to and changed much, always hoping we've kept the character of old times while adding convenience and looks of present times.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyZ6qoCozZbh9aAwFsQRgJysAGUTHWDIB8ARozQSizdDUlGHlI0o_9WDAAom-9muyPM7-IKQUi9Jk-BWoqMEx7CAs0TZwFc2un84QClIeSjirMYTBR-_gqb0jjssC1svrwb-K8iD3u2BO/s1600/IMG_2411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyZ6qoCozZbh9aAwFsQRgJysAGUTHWDIB8ARozQSizdDUlGHlI0o_9WDAAom-9muyPM7-IKQUi9Jk-BWoqMEx7CAs0TZwFc2un84QClIeSjirMYTBR-_gqb0jjssC1svrwb-K8iD3u2BO/s1600/IMG_2411.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
As for the living room, we still have decisions to make...like where to put a television. I know, just don't. But the winters are long here in northwest PA and we do watch TV. I'd like to enjoy the coziness of a crackling fire while watching a movie or Downton Abbey, and so, this winter, I shall. As soon as I figure out how to put the set in this corner in a tasteful way, I shall. (We're open to suggestions.)</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Posting pictures I'm more aware of details needing attention. I itch to dress up the walls and decorate the mantel. I'm also mindful how far behind I am posting less materialistic self-centered blogs. Should I write or should I do? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Day by day my spirit soars at the joys of life all around me, or flags at the weight of injustice and pain surrounding us all. It's a battle, where my focus lingers -- on the good or on the evil. I don't turn a blind eye to either. I accept gratefully and relish the blessings lavished on me. I wince at hardships and sadness, my own and the world's. I want to do my part to right wrongs and trumpet hope, yet my desire too oft paralyzes me. So I shake it off, clean a room, work in the yard, call a friend, hope for company to come splash in the pool with me, or I write. That's what I do...and then my world is rosy once again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">May the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;</span></i></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> establish the work of our hands for us-- yes, </span></i></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">establish the work of our hands. </span></i></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Psalm 90:17</span></i></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-7486101559531788722014-07-08T12:49:00.003-04:002014-07-08T12:52:47.785-04:00July 4th, July 5th, July 6th 2014The 4th of July is a big weekend for the Bruce family every year. My Yankee-Doodle-Dandy sister celebrates her birthday. The extended Bruce family holds a reunion -- going strong for 60 some years. Adding a memorial service for my mom, a celebration of her life, and then a mountain top send off made this year's 4th of July weekend bittersweet.<br />
<br />
At the memorial we intoned Mom's praises, extolled her beauty, and shared remembrances and grief at our great loss. One of my brothers-in-law said it was a wonderful going away party for our mom, oma, Gloria Kubasik Bruce. One grandson led the memorial service, another led the mountain top service, there were songs and hymns performed by grandkids and my husband, and Dad himself sang "All the World Will be Jealous of Me" -- a love song sung to our mom throughout their 63 years together. All of my brothers and sisters gave tribute to our mom and several of the in-laws did as well. I wasn't ready -- still not ready. I've had since December 17th to get ready. The best I could do at that time was to share my dad's tribute to Mom. <a href="http://betsyhenning.blogspot.com/2013/12/thanks-dad.html" target="_blank"><b>You can read that here -- Thanks Dad!</b></a> I'll write my tribute to mom. When I'm ready, I'll write it.<br />
<br />
On Sunday we climbed Mount Nittany in State College to carry out Mom's wish to have her remains scattered from the mountain top as we did 15 years ago for my brother, Rob. Dad made the rugged trek up the steep trail -- not bad for nearly 83 years old. We did take a break to rest a time or two...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabVhrZRaNMpcN_De1L9U14gBIhIeGj_AgaY4ySR52rSfWLSLjOTWoY65CEWPGJJlMH_buS-tV2S06Ejz83GG-iAEhC44D1ZzZ7woEYThlSzYErtXpJYnaxPOdkIISjcAGDX4y18vqCWeU/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabVhrZRaNMpcN_De1L9U14gBIhIeGj_AgaY4ySR52rSfWLSLjOTWoY65CEWPGJJlMH_buS-tV2S06Ejz83GG-iAEhC44D1ZzZ7woEYThlSzYErtXpJYnaxPOdkIISjcAGDX4y18vqCWeU/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
And when we arrived at the top, husband, children (and in-law children), grandchildren (and in-law grandchildren), after a reflective and responsive service, we scattered Mom's ashes to the wind while singing..."I'll fly away."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_noWYVwWo8WMGC1WN-d0Y4Jwo50kxKzIdIjVFltn8aaxApRiqd1i5QNAmtDZryiw2i8CU7XHZHtA2yrvPzDAnIQsHvFv3dAWVSMGyOvI_l0lPLJsCqRcRFN6BHXPyLk2GJgARoxxwdhn/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_noWYVwWo8WMGC1WN-d0Y4Jwo50kxKzIdIjVFltn8aaxApRiqd1i5QNAmtDZryiw2i8CU7XHZHtA2yrvPzDAnIQsHvFv3dAWVSMGyOvI_l0lPLJsCqRcRFN6BHXPyLk2GJgARoxxwdhn/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by...I'll fly away.</div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-78135692524786344162014-06-27T11:36:00.000-04:002014-06-27T11:36:09.742-04:00The Never Ending Journey<a href="http://theinspiredstory.com/dont-know-where/" target="_blank"><b>The Journey is the Destination</b></a>. Really? I hadn't ever thought of that...until this morning while reading a young (and very wise) blogger's most recent post. <b><a href="http://theinspiredstory.com/" target="_blank">Rachel Haltiwanger blogs at Inspired Story</a> </b>and she is so worth following.Go ahead, click on over there and get to know Rachel -- and vicariously enjoy traveling, discovering, getting the most from life and giving back.<br />
<br />
That was a short commercial break to say I have great respect for this young woman, her ability to share her inspired thoughts through writing. It's a gift, I think. And today it's a wake up call for me.<br />
<br />
I tend to forget to enjoy the journey. When we're traveling I can't wait to get there. When I'm going for a walk I focus on the halfway point and how long it will take to get back to where I started. When cleaning or working in the yard, no matter the project my goal is to be done with it. I can't remember ever basking in the pure joy of the task at hand: mowing, weeding, planting, scrubbing or polishing. And yet, I like taking walks, doing outside work, and honestly, I don't mind housework. Well, that might be a stretch, but I do like a clean house, and really, I think I could enjoy the process of getting it clean if I'd revel in every part of the accomplishment rather than being driven to have it completed NOW, or better yet, yesterday. I remember one time, years ago, working in our terribly weedy garden with Tom. We weren't even half way done when he leaned on his hoe and said, "Look how nicely this is coming along." So I got off my hands and knees and took a look. My eyes saw only the unfinished, unruly, weedy big half of the garden, and I groaned, "Look how much we still have to do," I am sad to say I couldn't take pleasure in what had been accomplished, for fretting over the lack of completion. I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be like my husband who could enjoy and be proud of what was accomplished regardless of the work ahead. I could see the tidied-up part of the garden was gorgeous, but I couldn't celebrate.<br />
<br />
That was years ago, and sheepishly I admit, I haven't grown much. But today I'm going to try harder -- not work harder, try harder -- to delight in what I am able to do and relish every small thing. The washer and dryer are running, sending fresh fragrances through the house. Sheets are drying on the line. Tonight we'll drift off to sleep surrounded by the sweet scent of outdoors. The house is decent enough for company. I've written a little piece so not to disappoint my writer's accountability group who I will be hosting in a few short hours. Non of that amounts to much, but it's what I've done and I think I'll relish it. And I think I'll go bake a treat for my friends when they come.<br />
<br />
The sun is shining and this is a great day. One day of my journey...my God ordained destiny. Gosh, I wouldn't want to miss or dismiss the magic moments I have right now. Let's see, what do I get to do next! Oh yeah, go bake a cake.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"This is the day that the Lord has made.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We (He and I even if no one else) will rejoice and be glad in it!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Psalm 118:24</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday's fun...a tractor ride to the creek with the delightful company of my two favorite girls.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsclle7gvLMCAjwILL-0j07MIQFMx0XdBCF1gSqDiXm3J3pw8TW8dtEI_RJ96OloTUAiKdj9lyJ1mkzzhK84R_AQpJyZ6cH6UgjA1V1yy6w01jRVzkNbCh5VUzb3OFvWUqSjhpmcHaU_Ia/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsclle7gvLMCAjwILL-0j07MIQFMx0XdBCF1gSqDiXm3J3pw8TW8dtEI_RJ96OloTUAiKdj9lyJ1mkzzhK84R_AQpJyZ6cH6UgjA1V1yy6w01jRVzkNbCh5VUzb3OFvWUqSjhpmcHaU_Ia/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG.jpeg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
And then into the pool.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOhI_Uawfh4qFs6rnQDpyogRTtKeOHCgIubNQU8coX1Ppw57YsJaXh8QbJHk4w7t8wHpJwrli8htIgVrgn9aFoEGy-fOpt3ExWthsg2ad_zCksBj3x7AiPawCtVuaexGX8XxGpA9DTAmC/s1600/2014-06-12+09.40.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOhI_Uawfh4qFs6rnQDpyogRTtKeOHCgIubNQU8coX1Ppw57YsJaXh8QbJHk4w7t8wHpJwrli8htIgVrgn9aFoEGy-fOpt3ExWthsg2ad_zCksBj3x7AiPawCtVuaexGX8XxGpA9DTAmC/s1600/2014-06-12+09.40.52.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Today's goal, and tomorrow's and all the days after that...Enjoy the journey, because it is the destination. (Still wrapping my head around that.)Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-29853801920459908022014-06-02T11:00:00.002-04:002014-06-02T11:00:19.977-04:00Keeping Promises?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6UxWL8W7yoTa7rNM4MKH_ertY_Gk0d_4lphJcDv96vlqkEvQ2oeTA9dusYY2TzZ8ZAwIvySlvjjQ72YOTHj9omsOZyz-yNfL6JHOqefRg4lAVTv-tfDJeV0Se-tC2_PHEduEWz9EQH9h/s1600/2014-05-30+17.24.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6UxWL8W7yoTa7rNM4MKH_ertY_Gk0d_4lphJcDv96vlqkEvQ2oeTA9dusYY2TzZ8ZAwIvySlvjjQ72YOTHj9omsOZyz-yNfL6JHOqefRg4lAVTv-tfDJeV0Se-tC2_PHEduEWz9EQH9h/s1600/2014-05-30+17.24.27.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first ripe blueberry on my plant --<br /> a Mother's Day gift from Adam and Alicia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've promised myself that I won't do any other writing, any other projects, not work in the tree nursery, not plant more flowers or mulch flower beds, not mow lawn, not paint or organize or clutter bust until I finish a very important writing assignment. I gave myself a deadline -- the first week of June. It's here. The writing assignment is almost complete. Almost. So I'm sort of, kind of cheating to be writing a blog post when that's on the list of things I won't do until... yeah.<br />
<br />
But every time I turn on my computer my blog page comes up and I have to look at that picture of my living room floor halfway torn up. The renovation project has moved way beyond that point, but the house is still torn up. I'm getting tired of it...reminding myself that as with every other project we've ever done (and there have been myriad) when it's finished it's so worth it and all memory of the inconvenience fades away.<br />
<br />
Yet today, everywhere I look my house is out of order. (Slight exaggeration, but that's my mood right now.) So the last thing I want is to turn on my computer and see <a href="http://betsyhenning.blogspot.com/2014/05/destruction-that-leads-to-construction.html" target="_blank"><b>Destruction that Leads to Construction</b></a> complete with a picture.<br />
<br />
By the way, we have a very flat, solid subfloor now, just think how terrific it will be once the real wood floor arrives. Meanwhile new doors and a new window are in place, and the rebuilt hearth is very pleasing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha2j7AelY36CJbPdlN9ytXeONxfgZfdaXQR0xOIzh0YhORB2L5qGxRisMzROIIWZDwBj-ZflSB5jaKEykeasEN2m2RZFp-ZzfIDtZogOGLTckGPjD1_8j9SOaFJrzGr8J1zDCeeA5Y0hK/s1600/2014-05-29+16.32.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha2j7AelY36CJbPdlN9ytXeONxfgZfdaXQR0xOIzh0YhORB2L5qGxRisMzROIIWZDwBj-ZflSB5jaKEykeasEN2m2RZFp-ZzfIDtZogOGLTckGPjD1_8j9SOaFJrzGr8J1zDCeeA5Y0hK/s1600/2014-05-29+16.32.25.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The guys are working on our new master bath even as I type. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Sun is shining, and goodness, I just want to be out there. I'm going to go mow a little portion of the lawn, the part inside the fence around the pool. It won't take long. Then I'll get back to that writing assignment. I promise. </div>
Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3788943773002680750.post-23060558193350203232014-05-21T13:01:00.001-04:002014-05-21T13:01:16.855-04:00Destruction That Leads to Construction...No spiritual metaphor here. I'm talking about crowbars, hammers and saws. Music to my ears. Well not really. It's noisy and startling and sometimes grating -- all sounds of progress. Yippee!<br />
<br />
The floor is coming off...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkyYYVwXqRSSy_rYBHMSYt-vnF1PmO-SzlEfgZYW1XwTnUIIcBmqmBAH8q0MUPfXBkvPpDtXuWgZf-uhOUzVU6ZR2Wlyy_0Bzvwwv0nd0oE5qVct0w_50jgWdWKd0KcaSGVUVa-fvdfu6/s1600/2014-05-21+08.26.50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkyYYVwXqRSSy_rYBHMSYt-vnF1PmO-SzlEfgZYW1XwTnUIIcBmqmBAH8q0MUPfXBkvPpDtXuWgZf-uhOUzVU6ZR2Wlyy_0Bzvwwv0nd0oE5qVct0w_50jgWdWKd0KcaSGVUVa-fvdfu6/s1600/2014-05-21+08.26.50.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikq5KBca92VQnLbXt85e0foWzc6OhJ6KHSKSs4jPV23f_ty934Pd_H24EIHQ8bqQq8vGp1KNmCZ4siRJ7L5xEPJGHz8h0baIlSsZmP8H-njxDVUx7Q8t0k0j6bp6eZghRGzcOU692cLONa/s1600/2014-05-21+08.26.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikq5KBca92VQnLbXt85e0foWzc6OhJ6KHSKSs4jPV23f_ty934Pd_H24EIHQ8bqQq8vGp1KNmCZ4siRJ7L5xEPJGHz8h0baIlSsZmP8H-njxDVUx7Q8t0k0j6bp6eZghRGzcOU692cLONa/s1600/2014-05-21+08.26.58.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Men at work...<br />
saving the old floor to be refinished and repurposed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aaC4wOZ_d93HN1kf-fhdxhxyvTqy9FvoQqJDoRvQWg2rrfrtzEmD9cloASOb3uLG2s5oU171Ek6SRpXPh5aG40avuvf-YtCE_HLuNdxqwDQbUigk6rvZHThPw5ys_bcqUPF57q2eBEXj/s1600/2014-05-21+08.27.56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aaC4wOZ_d93HN1kf-fhdxhxyvTqy9FvoQqJDoRvQWg2rrfrtzEmD9cloASOb3uLG2s5oU171Ek6SRpXPh5aG40avuvf-YtCE_HLuNdxqwDQbUigk6rvZHThPw5ys_bcqUPF57q2eBEXj/s1600/2014-05-21+08.27.56.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I can't wait to see the new floor, and doors, and window. Perhaps the construction phase will start tomorrow. Patience is a virtue which does not come naturally to me.Betsy Henninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01142744528733101434noreply@blogger.com1