Katharine is a writer, speaker, women's counselor, and professional mom. Happily married over 50 years to the same gorgeous guy. She loves cooking amazing homegrown food, celebrating grandbabies, her golden-egg-laying hennies, and watching old movies with popcorn.
Her writing appears at Medium, Arkansas Women Bloggers, Contently, The Testimony Train, Taste Arkansas, Only in Arkansas, and in several professional magazines and one anthology.
His gray hair and receding hairline, seemed out of place with his rippling muscles as he eased himself into the lounge chair he’d erected in the sand. His arms, legs, and chest bore the tawny hue and slick sheen of a professional tanner. His swim trunks were probably silk.
As he settled, facing the water and the scorching afternoon sun, eyes shut, the rest of us minced our way into the water. Spring-fed, it felt exactly like iced tea. I wondered if ice cubes would even melt in this lake.
I finally advanced to waist-deep and noticed another woman inching along, steeling herself against frigid wavelets from splashers nearby. She and I shared small talk about her husband betting her she could not submerge herself. So far, he was winning.
About 25 yards out, a tall rock formation provided a fun diving area. Occasionally, I could hear exactly what some child out there might holler at another. The acoustics around us, so surreal, could give goose bumps, even if the water did not, and even if the day was hotter than the lake was cold.
I worried about the elderly tanner. Was he hydrated? He had no drink container with him. He certainly was dripping with perspiration, and seemed asleep. What a shame if he blistered that expensive tan. Or overheated.
I decided to keep an occasional eye on him. The elderly sometimes have no clue about health things.
I’d just turned back to my resolve of getting completely wet, when the old guy sprang from his nap and flung himself into the water, in a perfect emergency dive. Flat, but no belly flop.
Into ice water.
On a 100-degree day.
And kept going. One powerful front-crawl stroke after another, he reached the base of that rock platform in about ten seconds.
And fished a floundering boy from the water, holding him up and safe, while the child coughed and gagged and sputtered and cried. The old man rinsed scant blood off the child’s chest, examining him closely. They mumbled conversation, the old man forcing eye contact, the child impatiently nodding his head, trying to swim free from the firm grip on his arm.
As the child climbed back up the rock, his savior watched, and called to him, “You stay away from the edge, there, you hear me?”
And then swam back, all 25 yards, almost as fast.
And walked out onto the burning sand, hardly winded.
And muttered to the astonished ones around him, “That was my grandson.”
Although a certain amount of sadness attaches itself to the thoughts surrounding it, today I have guest posted at Arkansas Women Bloggers Websiteas a guest blogger.
The sadness comes from the topic, which reminds me of joys, yes, but also of lost joys.
I won’t tell much more–don’t want to spoil the story for you, but do go overand read.
Find out why I’m behind on almost everything and why it was worth it.
And do pray for Sonny.
And for his mom.
It is ridiculous to talk about whether to put God in a box or not. God IS the box. WE are the ones in a box.
An estimated 11,000,000 people died in the Nazi holocaust. About 6,000,000 of those were Jews, about 1,100,000 were children.
Those are big numbers.
The Haitian government estimated 220,000 died in the 2010 earthquake.
Over 5,000 died in the Philippine typhoon last November.
Around 230,000 died in the Boxing Day tsunami in the Indian Ocean.
Big numbers.
When even one person dies, it is a big number to those who loved him.
Where are they?
Here’s another big number: 56,600,000.
Fifty times the number of babies Hitler killed.
That’s how many babies America has killed since Roe v. Wade.
God had a plan for each one of them. He loved each one.
Abortion terminates the lives of human beings with souls, with beating hearts, with digesting stomachs–babies recoiling in pain, desperately trying to escape their killers. Yet their killers claim they are not really taking a life. How can they honestly say that?
If a coroner checks for absence of a heartbeat to determine death, shouldn’t the presence of a heartbeat prove there is life?
We must continue to pray and to repent .We must not become weary in this battle for life. We must continue to speak out, raise our voices, and vote to protect the innocent; but above all, to pray. We are not fighting flesh and blood–this is a spiritual battle and our prayers are more powerful than politicians and judges.
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy. Proverbs 31: 8-9
The pro-abortion crowd screams about freedom of choice, saying, “IT’S MY BODY!”
What about the baby’s body?
Who will cry out for the baby?
While you go about your business, today, 4,400 more innocent people will be submitted to capital punishment, although they have committed no crime and have had no trial, no attorney, no basic rights we’d give even to a prisoner of war.
Not only will they be denied the basic anesthesia even a veterinarian would use, but also, they will be ripped to pieces and injected with toxins.
A couple of years ago, I read Katharine’s series on friendship. This blog series triggered some major self-reflection and prayer. It arrived at a time when I was struggling with too many commitments to too many people, and was finding myself utterly drained, and struggling with guilt that I could not be everything to everyone.
I have always surrounded myself with a lot of people, wherever I go. As an extrovert, I tend to befriend nearly everyone I meet. I have since found that I also have a strong introverted side, so I crave time alone. I need balance to maintain my sanity, but I had no center of gravity.
To be honest, I could see that I had an inordinate desire to be loved and liked by everyone, to be worthy of being called a friend by everyone. Essentially, I wanted to be popular. So, I over-extended in every direction. I allowed myself to be pushed and pulled from all sides. It didn’t matter how good my intentions were–I was beginning to drown.
Something had to change.
I had to stop, examine myself, and explore a better way for me to balance friendships with a limited amount of time. I found that what matters is choosing carefully where to spend my non-refundable time.
So, I questioned and re-ordered my priorities. I didn’t want to cut anyone off completely, just to make sure that the right people topped my list. It was a painful process.
I wasn’t really sure what to do, or how to do it. Katharine’s series supplied the springboard I needed to dive into the Word of God, learn from Jesus, and change. If anyone had innumerable demands on his time from innumerable directions, it was the Son of God. How did he order his friendships? Who did he give the bulk of his time to?
His timing was perfect in drawing me to Katharine’s corner of the Internet.
When I came to the conclusion of the series, I was struck by the outline of how Jesus’ friendships were structured. I really began to apply what I had read to my life, and this is what I learned.
Jesus, while on this earth, befriended thousands…
Jesus had a wide circle of acquaintance, numbering in the thousands. Mine is more in the hundreds, but I definitely have a wide circle. When you really think about it, we are all connected to more people than we realize, and that is a good thing.
120 who believed in Him, followed Him (Acts 1:15):
I have four children who love me and follow my every move everyday, all day. They believe in me and trust me. My doula clients and childbirth education students also have a level of trust they put in me. They hire me to influence them, so they put a lot of stock in what I have to say. In this sphere, I make a difference–for good or ill, remains to be seen.
72 who did ministry for Him (Luke 10:1 & 17):
I have many friends who are willing to minister with me, or to me. This is the wide circle of people I would run errands for, help with their children, and who would gladly return the favor, but we don’t necessarily spend a lot of time together.
At the time, this was where I felt the biggest stretch. I had a hard time saying “No.” If I didn’t have something in my calendar, I didn’t feel justified in turning anyone down, even if I was in desperate need of a quiet day of down-time. I have since learned that it’s okay to say “No,” even if I don’t have a “real” reason. It’s still hard for me, but I have found that people usually understand.
12 whom He discipled, whom He called “friends” (Mark 3:14):
Jesus had twelve disciples, to whom he actually applied the term “friends.” They were always together, sharing life. Sometimes fighting and bickering, but always together in the end (except for Judas).
In the past, I was trying to stuff everyone I met into this category. After a couple of years of practicing the art of saying “No,” I think I finally understand what this level of friendship entails, and I have made changes accordingly. If I named names, I would probably have about fifteen or so in this group, and these are the ones that are worth saying “Yes” to.
3 whom He granted more insight and understanding (Mark 5:37, 9:2, 14:33):
Jesus had three people–Peter, James, and John–with whom he shared things that he did not even share with the others he called friends. He spent more time with them, and asked more of them than anyone else.
I probably have five of these. I call these my “iron-sharpens-iron” friends. They are the ones who love me enough to call me out, or encourage me in ways no one else can.
In the past, I felt guilty if I spent more time with one or two than any other in my close circle. Now, I don’t worry about it so much, because I never see Jesus expressing guilt for singling out his three closest confidants.
The one whom He loved, who leaned upon Him at meals, to whom He entrusted His last revelation (John 13:33, 21:7, 20, Revelation 1:1-2):
Jesus had his close three friends, but out of those three, he had brotherly intimacy with only one. Just one person to whom he opened up completely. Besides my husband, I have two people I would consider myself to be this close to.
They are my “besties,” and I no longer feel guilty for keeping this circle closed.
Probably, the most important thing I have learned is this: Even the perfect Son of God couldn’t please everyone, or even all of his closest friends. Who am I to think that I, in my fallen state, can be anyone’s Everything? So, rather than be a friend to none, I choose to follow George Washington’s advice:
“Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”
What have you learned about friendships in this life?
Grace & Peace,
Tiffany
Tiffany blogs at The Faery Inn, where she shares her Fellow Inn-mates’ lives with anyone who cares to escape into amazing escapades. She is the happy wife of one super-understanding man, a home-schooling mother of four, a childbirth doula, and a childbirth instructor, in a breath-taking land of delirious mountains and devastating losses. I’ve reblogged her heartfelt posts from time to time and often wished to make it official. The happy event of my 30,000th visitor, (which she just happened to be) gave me the excuse I needed to invite her on over. Tiffany also is my most frequent commenter for 2013, which I also intended to celebrate, so here she is! A beacon in her honesty and constant in her loyalty, she has agreed to grace our day with the above, beautiful work. Go visit herand thank her for this lovely piece!
This makes the Roman Catacombs look like a toy,
and Minecraft like a joke.
They’ve been finding entire undergroundcities that ancient historians once spoke of, complete with rivers and cathedrals, and they’ve not really been getting the word out until now. This amazing article will make you want to go there. It can make more sense of Hebrews 11:36-39, where the Bible tells us:
“Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted, and mistreated–the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.”
Well, enjoy the link. It’s amazing to think of all the work these finds took to produce in the first place.
As the child climbed back up the rock, his savior watched, and called to him, “You stay away from the edge, there, you hear me?”
Home's Cool! 