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Blessings of Habit, Inspiring, Scripture, Wisdom

Where Is Your Heart?

Posted on March 1, 2013November 18, 2015 by Katharine

Still sort of thinking about the heart, although March is here.

A friend reminded me, today, to think of what I treasure. I treasure a lot of things. Some are good to treasure and some, because they are so temporary, are not wise things to invest much time in, or to treasure.

I remembered a Bible verse that lends some guidance, here. It’s found in the book written by Matthew, one of Jesus’ first 12 followers, and here, he quotes Jesus: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21

He makes this connection directly after stating we should not treasure things that can ruin, and He follows it almost immediately with the warning not to try collecting both earthly and Spiritual hoards, because it can’t be done.

Wise Man, right?.

So, my fun collection of bird houses, which do not house birds, but only collect dust in my sunroom, are not wise things to treasure. I already knew that. I view them like wallpaper or rugs, just decor. Only I bought them at garage sales for pennies, so they cost less. Although I like them a lot, I don’t treasure them.

When it comes to my grandkids’ souls, though, wow. Those I treasure, and my heart is full of them, often. If I even think I see a sign of a troubled soul, I have to remember I’m not the mom, and certainly not God. I have to work hard not to say anything outside of encouragement, except when speaking to the Savior of souls. I earnestly seek protection for their souls. Different from birdhouses, which I only dust.

The Test of Fire!

Our house caught fire, one time.

If there were a fire, I would rescue the grandkids and let the birdhouses burn. Easy to choose.

I remember reading a story about a wise woman in Little Rock whose house had burned. When interviewed, she thought of all the kind folk who were returning to her the gifts and photos she had given them, just so she would have SOMETHING.

She said, “After a fire, the only thing you have left is what you gave away.” That quote riveted me like little I’ve ever heard before. What wisdom!

And the Bible tells us our God is a consuming fire. Only what cannot be consumed remains after He is done with us.

And some resent that. They want to live down here, in this messed up world, instead of zooming on up to pure delight. Where is their treasure? Where is their heart?

The Test of the Two-Year-Old!

Some of us go too far with treasuring our people, though, and take it to the point of worshiping.

I knew a lady who complained that she never had time to pray or read the Bible because her granddaughter just took up all her time. She further explained that the child was in a demanding stage and it often took all day to satisfy her every whim, whether it be for food, entertainment, or even the simple need for sleep. They were often up until 10:30 or later, just fighting sleep, after which point the lady was exhausted, as we all would be, in that situation.

But where was her treasure ? Where was her heart?

I once read that wherever your mind goes, on autopilot, when you are not directing your thoughts, is where your heart is, is your treasure, is your god.

Don’t let it be some kind of idol.

Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Inspiring, Pre-schoolers, Who's the mom here?

It’s the Thought that “Counts”

Posted on February 4, 2013January 21, 2017 by Katharine

There is a sweet little boy attending our church, who reminds me of Count Zinzendorf.

How?

His grandmother is raising him in a large, friendly home in the country, because his momma is having trouble in life right now. Zinzendorf was born to a recent widow, who then remarried a common soldier who didn’t really like the boy. Both she and Zinzendorf’s grandmother thought it better to prepare him for the life of a count by letting him grow up in the grandmother’s castle.

Our little boy is quite bright, as was the count.

He has an amazing interest in the things of God, memorizing prayers, for instance, and wanting to pray them aloud in church like the men do. Ditto with Zinzendorf.

But the big similarity I see is this:

He loves putting money in the offering boxes inside the entrances of our building. Being only six years old, he has no income for putting into the offering boxes. His interest in these boxes is constant. He’s been told the money is for God, for God’s work, etc. One day he caught the church treasurer taking the money out to be deposited later, in the local bank. This would be what most churches would do, but our little guy was completely appalled because he thought the dear lady was robbing God’s money.

She was quick to explain to him that she was not taking the money for herself, but only taking it out of the box to make sure it stayed safe so it can be used for God’s work.

This set the little wheels inside his head to turning. What else could he think but that this church treasurer had an “in” with God Almighty. He was totally awed, then.

And he had a plan.

Knowing a bit about writing notes and taking notes, he has confused the two. Sitting between his gramma and his auntie every Sunday, and watching them take notes in church, he’s begun imitating this practice. Whatever the preacher says, that gets through his normal-six-year-old distractedness, he writes down, asking the adults around him for help with spelling.

He is taking notes.

Then the word-confusion begins. When church is over, he folds up his paper and inserts it into the offering box, commenting confidently, “This is a note for God.” He fully expects the church secretary to make sure it is delivered.

And the comparison, here, to Zinzendorf? As a child, he used to write prayers on small pieces of paper and climb to the top of the highest turret in his grandmother’s castle, tossing them out the window, to get them to God.

The townspeople would find these small prayer offerings floating around on the ground very touching and inspiring .

We’ve got a similarity there, too.

Herbs, Inspiring, Photos, Scripture, Wisdom

. . . They Brought to Him Gifts . . .

Posted on December 6, 2012December 14, 2015 by Katharine

The first recorded baby shower in the world, perhaps, was when the Magi brought to Joseph and Mary, and their new baby, Jesus, three amazing gifts from their traveling treasure chests.

Gold

What? No gift card for Baby Gap? No.

Gold.

Gold cannot be canceled and is the standard for all worth. Just as Jesus is.
Gold never tarnishes, never rusts, never becomes corrupt in any way. Again, like Jesus.
Gold is the decoration of kings, the drapery of kings, a symbol of kings. Which is what Jesus is: King of Kings.

Frankincense

No Lysol Spray? No.

Something much nicer and much more meaningful.

The aged sap of the boswelia bush, obtained by beating and cutting it, frankincense was considered as precious as gold. Okay, so Jesus is more precious.
Frankincense was both appealing and purifying. As is Jesus.
Priests burned frankincense to mingle with prayer; it is a symbol of prayer. Jesus is our High Priest and ever lives to pray for us.

Myrrh

No Mennen’s?

No. Something much more foretelling.

Myrrh was a valuable resource from the Middle East, a fitting gift for such an extraordinary birth as Jesus’.
Myrrh was a healer and lifted pain. It was offered to Jesus in a drink during His crucifixion.
Myrrh speaks of death and was combined with aloes inside Jesus’ burial shroud.
It’s bitter properties also foretold the rejection Jesus would face.

How could these three wise men have known their gifts were perfect?

Probably the same way they knew when and where to find the Babe.

They paid attention to the things of God.

We should try it.

_____________________

Image via Wikipedia

Believe it or not!, Inspiring, Womanhood

The Gift of Poverty

Posted on December 6, 2012 by Katharine

If poverty is a help to right living, then this girl was a saint.

I’ll call her “Sharon”. She lived out in the country near us, in a rental cabin meant for hunters. Termite-infested, cold in winter, hot in summer, wet during rains, it provided only privacy for Sharon’s family: her jobless parents and her little sister.

When, after my second son arrived, the carry-in meals were too much food for us, we passed some of it on to this poor family. They returned every single one of those empty Cool-Whip cartons, spotlessly clean. The only time they ever asked us for money, it was for food, and when Sharon’s mother had finished shopping, she brought me the change she had not needed.

Sharon was trying hard not to become a dropout and to keep away from the problems inherent to youth those days. It was easy for me to like her quiet and confident ways. Although there was about ten years difference in our ages, she showed me the kindnesses of friendship and sometimes would visit with me over the phone. She always ended each call by mentioning some difficulty she or her family had encountered and I counseled her briefly. Only after I converted her plight into a prayer request, would she say good-bye. How that impressed me!

Sharron married right after high school and soon was expecting her first child. She still called me occasionally and eventually asked me to visit at the new house her teen husband had built her. What a building! Constructed totally of 3/8” plywood, top to bottom, in and out, and walls painted in the latest style – with a feather duster. It was too hot in there for me, but the small wood-burner was kept at a low roar for the baby’s warmth.

One day I answered my door to find Sharon standing there with something to give me. She said they had to move and wanted to tell me good-bye. On the porch floor beside her stood a diminutive table her husband had made of scrap lumber, mostly 1×1’s. It was as simple as a plywood house, but well-made and painted with a feather duster.

How incredible that Sharon, so poverty-stricken, could even consider gifts for others! It almost brought me to tears.

I have loved the story and the person behind that small gift for a long time. It served well as a fern stand, outdoors when the weather was mild, and indoors when it was too hot or cold for ferns. It soon needed repainting and always bore the colors of the exterior of our houses, wherever we lived. I kept it proudly on display right by the front door and often told the story of this gift.

If you are thinking you’ve already read this story here, before, you’re correct. Oh, BUT – there is a new twist in the ending. Before, I had said what I thought was true, that it had finally sort of decomposed in the ensuing 30 years, but I was wrong. The little table still lives! While visiting my oldest son, not long ago, I spied it on the deck behind his house, still holding up, still holding potted plants, and I (TADA!) photographed it for you all to see: The lovely little table from “Sharon”.

Believe it or not!, Inspiring, Scripture

Get Grace

Posted on October 23, 2012October 23, 2012 by Katharine

You hear them all the time: people who have fantasies about what they wish God would be like, making up definitions of Bible stuff.

Some of these people have actually read the Bible.

Some have attended church and heard a preacher who decided to redefine something to fit his message, and because of that, think they understand it.

Beware: It will never stop

Grace is not mercy. Mercy is when a judge feels sorry for you or thinks it would be more improvement for society for you not to go to jail; you don’t get what you deserved.

Now, Christians don’t get what we deserve. That is true. But that is not grace. It is mercy. Mercy and grace are not the same things.

Or, why would Paul pray that “grace, mercy, and peace be unto you”?

Paul had too much to say to waste parchment by being redundant.

Still, because we do not grasp what in the world grace is, some of us assign it the definition that belongs to mercy.

So, since we do get mercy, anyway, and we tell folks we get mercy, what is wrong?

What is wrong is that we rob them of also getting grace.

That’s what.

We rob them of the only way to walk with the Lord in the Light of His Word.

Serious stuff.

Life altering stuff.

The essence of actual life.

As opposed to the fabricated life, the fake life, the hypocritical life.

Grace.

You need it.

God provided that you can get it.

And the clueless can keep you away from it.

And they don’t even know that about themselves.

Grace is the power of God doing things in you.

Grace is the power of God doing things with you.

Grace is the power of God doing things for you.

Grace is the power of God doing things through you.

“Stand in His strength alone.
The arm of flesh will fail you, ye dare not trust your own.”

Grace is that strength.

Get that strength.

Go boldly to the Throne of Grace and get grace to help you in your time of need. (See Hebrews 4:16)

Like when someone refuses to get off your case, you can be kind to them, anyway.

Or when someone takes away your things, you can offer them even more.

Or when you are so tired you can hardly move, you can keep moving.

Strength.

God’s strength.

Working in, with, through, and for you.

Out of His great mercy, He does not destroy us.

But He offers to do our doing FOR us, to live IN us, to walk this life WITH us, to work THROUGH us.

Oh, and it’s a gift.

You just have to ask.

Get that grace.

Good ol' days, Homemaking, Inspiring, Sayings, Womanhood

Saturday Sayings — Everyday Life

Posted on September 15, 2012September 26, 2012 by Katharine

woman in housedress: madison + 41 — woman in housedress

I cannot believe what I have seen, lately.

And that comment deserves an explanation.

The wedding wowed us all, and my son, no doubt, rejoices, now. We’ll talk about that later, I’m sure.

But what I realize suddenly, is that for the last 42 years, I have been co-existing with my kids. That thought barely fits inside my head. Just barely. For 42 years, I’ve had kids in my corner — whether pre-borns, school-aged, or 20-somethings, they were my kids and they were here.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly they have sought their niches and moved on to life as they envisioned it.

I wonder if they envisioned it accurately, any better than I did. I mean, I always wanted six children, but I never, even once, thought I would live with kids for 42 years. It makes me laugh because it sounds like I ran an orphanage. Often I jokingly said of my profession, that I helped my husband manage a home for children who would otherwise be homeless. I believed that, even while I laughed about it. I joke about someone else doing their laundry for a change, and I believe that, too, as I laugh.

The time arrives when all that work is over and I enjoy reaping grandkids and such. I re-arrange furniture in empty bedrooms, glad for the space, glad for a chance to access the under-bed areas with a broom and mop, daring not to allow the mixed emotions a venue, terrified of second thoughts, unable to admit missed chances, refusing to ponder the distance to check on these kids, allowing only the happy-thoughts.

I did it. They are raised and gone. Their rooms are again mine. I can have a sewing room and an office.

And more money for luxuries.

And more clean.

And more time.

And more quiet.

And my own way, more.

This brings me to the saying for Saturday, a chorus from an old song by Glen Campbell: Dreams of the Everyday Housewife

Such are the dreams of the everyday housewife
You see everywhere any time of the day
An everyday housewife
Who gave up the good life
For me.

However the writer of this song assumes the wife longs for the good ol’ pre-marriage days, it fails to realize what it juxtaposes:

Wrinkles vs. young men’s ridicule — give me wrinkles, any day.

Apron vs. dancing men waiting in line for her — really; that’s the good life.

Closet vs. photos, and dried flower crumbling — actually, I have many, many photos and flowers, none crumbling, and I could use another closet.

Housedress vs. mind-blowing gowns — the way I dress in the house is far more sensible and comfortable and desirable and if gowns are the “good life”, I’d give them up in a heartbeat for what I’d really like.

I’d really like to ride that “housewife” ride all over again.

(Photo credit: bondidwhat)

Inspiring, Photos, Scripture

Posted on August 10, 2012August 10, 2012 by Katharine

I’m not a tat kinda girl, but . . . get you some tissues and GO READ THIS. It’s not what you think.

The Faery Inn

One of my sisters and I were able to go to the doctor’s office with my parents for the latest MRI results.

They’re not good.

The cancer has spread to the meninges (the membranes that cover the brain & spinal cord).

Okay – backing up just a bit.

For the last several weeks, my Dad has been struggling with pain from an extruding disc in his back, which has nothing to do with his cancer. He can’t sit or stand for very long, and spends most of his time lying down. He has also been dealing with nausea, headaches, and lack of appetite that he thought might be related to pain meds. It’s not.

So the MRI this week. The cancer in the meninges. Those symptoms are directly caused by his cancer. It’s all throughout a good part of his brain & spinal cord, and that is very concerning. The…

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