Believe it or not!, Homemaking, Inspiring, Wisdom

Most Popular Post, So Far

Posted on May 2, 2011March 16, 2015 by Katharine

The folks at postaday asked us to list for them our top posts for the year. Since my Internet still has issues with the idea that I am trying to USE it, I thought I would repost this one for those who may have missed it. Hope you like it; it got scads of views!

Reclaiming the Dream

I remember a dream house we moved into, once, that required walking through a nightmare before we could really own it. In a job relocation, we had looked everywhere for anything that would contain us all and that was not affected by the housing bubble. Funny, although it was the only house we could afford, it was clearly the biggest we’d ever seen. I mean, 4000 square feet with 7 acres far exceeded our hopes, in my favorite layout: an A-frame with wings. I thought it was a dream come true.

On closing day, our realtor apologized for having to board an airplane immediately for a business trip. A lie? Maybe, but certainly convenient for the realtor. The sellers skipped town, too. Our sold house was 400 miles away. The new job beckoned.

The promised cleaning had not happened. In fact, the house was far dirtier than at the showing. Everything unwanted from the attic lay strewn all over the game roomfloor—three garbage bags full of it. The kitchen looked like a murder had happened there. Probably someone had just dragged leaky packages of ground beef across the floor to the fridge when someone slipped and nearly fell in it. And had not wiped it up. Of course, the promised professional carpet cleaning existed only in the land of promises-promises. The finale for the day probably was the cat litter and feces on the dining room carpet and the animal barf on the laundry room floor. That is, until I lifted the nasty, old, wet, cleaning rag from the kitchen sink and found inside it a huge dog clunker. I screamed and nearly passed out, grabbed a plastic bag, and hurried the mess out the front door. And bleached absolutely everything while crying.

What followed was a month of the unbelievable. We mastered spot-treating carpet. I would steam clean every night until I could not remember how to turn the machine off, usually around 2 a.m. We learned how to remove vinyl wall-paper glue with a knife. We used five coats of sealer/primer on the purple paint. I list only part. No one believes the rest. Or cares, usually. Let’s say “the dream house became a nightmare.”

BUT—God went before us. Constantly we found signs of His loving approval. The perfect wallpaper in NEUTRAL colors went on sale for $4.00. A wonderful furniture salesman helped us find honest repairmen. We thank God, often, for the fact that of all the things that did not work, the smoke alarms did, since there was a fire, one night.

God blessed, protected, and boosted us as we slipped into this hard place. He gave us joy and strength as we plowed through insurmountable difficulties. One by one, each small space was ours, by right of conquest.

Lately I’ve been thinking about myself when the Lord first moved into my being. I think I know a bit about how He felt.

But He’s been up late, nights.

I am His by right of conquest.

Believe it or not!, Good ol' days

Well, Which Disaster Do You Want First?

Posted on April 29, 2011June 2, 2011 by Katharine

I think I’m back, but my heart hardly knows where to break first . . . .

Disaster #1 – Beloved minister and rescuer of teenage drug captives, David Wilkerson, has died in a car wreck. His wife, Gwen, was with him in the car and is in critical condition. He wrote The Cross and the Switchblade about his early life in New York and how it overlapped the life of Nicky Cruz. After beginning his ministry in Texas, he opened a church in an old theater in New York, where he preached and ministered to whomever dropped in, whether tramp or New York businessman. He was a real modern-day prophet and author of many books, and faithfully published and sent free newsletters (of the postage type) to all who desired to receive them. Listening to his preaching was the first occasion of awakening to the Lord’s call for one of my sons.

Disaster #2 -A beyond-enormous tornado ripped through the Deep South, leaving around 300 dead, at last count.

Disaster #3 -One of the sweetest ladies I know in the world lost her favorite sister to that storm–the sister who stood by her when her son was murdered–gone, along with the sister’s husband.

Disaster #4 – Someone desecrated a memorial to the unborn at Clarion University in Pennsylvania. It was the usual collection of crosses depicting the enormity of the death sentence on the children of our country: 350 white crosses to commemorate the 53 million dead. But the crosses were found turned upside down (a common satanic ritual symbol), spattered with blood-colored paint, and bloody-looking infant footprints appeared on the site. Also in red, on the sidewalk was the phrase, “pro-choice”.

I’m glad to be back with fairly good service available, but cannot process what a sad day it is, out there. It makes our storm seem paltry by comparison (and I KNOW, it’s not a competition and I am glad we do not measure up.)

But tomorrow, Lord willing (I think we need to start saying that more), I will try to bring you a sweet and humorous story from our storm experience.

See ya’.

Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Inspiring, Sayings, Wisdom

Denial, Excuses, and Folly, OH MY!

Posted on April 22, 2011March 15, 2014 by Katharine

: English: Cross in the village of Úsilné, České Budějovice District, Czech Republic with the writing ‘Blessed be the Lord Jesus Christ’. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There sure are a lot of wrong theories and sayings about forgiveness out there, these days! Most people have heard them all, too many times. And although logic tells us something is wrong, we strain to forgive according to all we’ve heard, and cannot figure it out. Nothing seems to happen and several of our victimizers do not stay forgiven very long at all.

What!

To get a grasp on exactly what we are supposed to do, let’s first eliminate all wrong thinking upon which some people may be trying to convince us to act. For instance:

Denial

Forgiveness is NOT saying, “Oh, it’s okay.” When someone has done hurtful wrong against you, IT IS NOT OKAY! It should make us feel all rotten inside to say it is. Why? Because spreading wrongful hurt is not okay; it is sin. Sin is not okay with God; how could it be okay with us? Saying it is, is denial. It’s just plain ol’ living a lie.

Only say, “It’s okay,” when it was not sin, was not intended as sin, and was not received as sin. Only say, “It’s okay,” if you would be okay with it happening again.

Excuses

Forgiveness is NOT forgetting. How can anyone forget something on purpose! We have miraculous brains that function largely by memory. We do not have back-space keys for our brains. God can decide to forget something, if He wants, or cause us to forget something, but we do not have that kind of power.

Thinking we must forget, in order to prove we have forgiven, sets us up for making excuses. We say, “I’ll never be able to forgive that, because I could never forget such-and-such.” Or we think we have not forgiven because memories keep resurfacing, so it must be hopeless to try. What a wide-open door for excuses!

Folly

It is neither safe nor wise to trust someone who has proven himself to be untrustworthy. To send a youngster back to a bullying classroom or molesting teacher, to lend more money to someone who has not repaid, to tell a secret to a gossip, is just plain folly.

We must forgive those who sin against us, but we do NOT have to trust them again, in order to prove we have done so. We certainly do not have to feel guilty for helping put such a one in jail, if his sin was illegal.

Besides, trust, by its nature, must be earned, cannot be demanded.

So What IS Forgiveness?!

If we look up the word, “forgive,” we can find the original meanings of its ancient parts: to give far away.

Think: Where would you put all that pain, if you could download it? How far away would be far enough? The farthest possible distance from this existence is: in God’s hands. When He takes it, it’s gone.

Giving it to Him can feel like work, but it is forgiveness and is far less work than dealing with the current agony.

Forgiveness is SAYING, “I forgive you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
(Yes, it is like writing a check on His checkbook to pay a debt, which we cannot actually do unless we are His.)
It is a transaction, like writing off a bad debt. Our feelings may be screaming, but it is not about feelings; it is about getting past this great wrong and moving on with this life. It’s about positioning ourselves for the next life beyond.
Forgiveness is REFUSING to remember the sin against the sinner.
Yes, it was a bad debt; no, we will NOT mentally send bills to “debtor’s prison”. That part is over.
Forgiveness is MINISTERING to the sinner.
Maybe the only safe or possible thing we can do is pray for him, but because we, ourselves, have been forgiven by so marvelous a God, we are freed and filled with power to do so.
Seeing this is a mark of true forgiveness.

Now we have dealt with the why’s of suffering and forgiveness, and we have defined terms. Come on by tomorrow and get the HOW-TO and some FAQ’s.

See ya’.

Good ol' days, Inspiring, Sayings, Wisdom

Saturday Sayings – Old

Posted on April 16, 2011August 14, 2011 by Katharine

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made.
–Robert Browning

Young men think old men are fools; but old men know young men are fools.
–George Chapman

For as I like a young man in whom there is something of the old, so I like an old man in whom there is something of the young.
–Cicero

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is the youth of old age.
–Victor Hugo

Whenever a man’s friends begin to compliment him about looking young, he may be sure that they think he is growing old.
–Washington Irving

Before old age my care was to live well; in old age, to die well.
–Seneca

Nobody loves life like an old man.
–Sophocles

Good ol' days

A Great Grandmother

Posted on April 14, 2011September 24, 2016 by Katharine

My great-grandmother, Grismamma, was a petite woman who spoke no English. She made the enormous, and I am sure, frightening, sacrifice of coming over here, to America, and leaving all behind in southern Germany. Her real name was Wilhelmina Carolina Anna Adelheidt Wieckert. And that was BEFORE she married. As small children, we had her long name memorized.

When I knew her, she was old as old can be, and I was barely over four years. She lived with her daughter, my grandmother, “Laura” and we saw her every time we went there. I never saw her walk. She had to be helped with everything. We were not allowed to speak to her, except to tell her “Good-night.” I guess she knew that much English. We also had to be quiet and polite around Grismamma.

One amazing thing about Grismamma, is that she had hair long enough to reach the floor. Yet her hair was so thin, she kept it all, all in a bun about the size of a golf ball..

I think she died when I was about four. I did not attend the funeral. Probably I was too young.

I have one thing that used to belong to Grismamma. It is a small, orange sherbet glass with a wax orange in it:

Grismamma received this glass or cup as a gift when she was 13, and kept it safe for the rest of her long life. When she died, my mom got the cup and kept it safe for her whole life. Now it is mine. It lives in a little box in the top cabinets in my kitchen.

I think it is old.

But I want it to become even older. I want the memory of my Grismamma to go on and on, until time comes to an end, because she was mine and was ours. I want someone far in the future to be able to touch the precious thing my Grismamma touched and know someone else was here, once, and then went on, someone who sacrificed to make something better for those who were to come.

And to be thankful.

I want my children and their descendents to know I valued someone small and frail, who borrowed the air we now borrow, and then gave it back.

As we someday must.

Do you know the difference between wisteria and lilac? This is wisteria!

Homemaking, Womanhood

The Costliest Perfume

Posted on March 31, 2011March 9, 2018 by Katharine

Do you ever have a day when you have to unload before you can function? It’s like having your arms full of groceries when someone wants to shake hands. “Hello. Glad to meet you. Let me unload, first…”

Today, chick checks are driving me nuts. We’ve had horrible troubles with a wicked old raccoon, torturing our poor hens have to death and then leaving them to die. Chickens cower when I check their feed and water. Rain waits until I’m half-way past the lilacs on the way to the coop, before it sends a few drops directly over the rifle. Then I have to dry the rifle so carefully.

After lunch, and after the lunchtime chick check, is when I decided it—I had to unload before I could function any more and definitely before I laundered shirts. I calmed myself and gathered gloves and a lopper. Eight joyous branches later, and our dining table centerpiece was doing what lilacs do best. They may be too much perfume for one meal, but are just right, for right now. As the house fills with their scent, I relax.

I once had an opportunity to visit West Bend, Wisconsin, during the bloom time for lilacs. West Bend must have a policy about lilacs because everyone there has them, even fast food places. Arriving at dusk, my family and I wandered out of our car and into the spicy sweetness. Their essence was too strong to recognize on the balmy evening air, but it was sublime, as it is in my house, right now.

Was it like that when Mary bathed and anointed Jesus’ feet? The Word says the house filled with the perfume. Jesus said we always would remember her, too. I feel glad for her sake, but I wonder why He said this and why we remember her.

Of course, her story provides a glimpse into the seamier side of life in Jerusalem. Things were different, then. Adultery and prostitution were against the law, then. Nowadays they are just entertainment for the soaps crowd and fun pastimes for teens. Most kids of today have not heard and would hardly guess these activities are sin, would never be able to guess why. Almost no one can see the demise we’ve inherited from them. Ruined personalities, ruined families, ruined towns, counties—even whole states can trace their downfall to the ruin of marital faithfulness. Whole villages have thrown away the solid ground on which they built. It won’t take much of a wave to wash them away. It will be sad when it comes, and it only takes one village ignoring erosion to start a huge washout.

Will anyone ever see it? Will anyone ever feel sorry about it and stop it?

Mary did, although it meant embarrassment for her.

The perfume of lilacs, faithfully calling to us, can make a difference in this world. Like Mary. I want to be like her. I want to be always at Jesus’ feet.

Inspiring, Who's the mom here?

All My Men Have Been Good to Me – Sons

Posted on March 29, 2011March 28, 2011 by Katharine

God has blessed us with four sons. Sometimes I can hardly believe this. And I can hardly count the joys. But I will try.

They have played with each other for their whole lives. They truly care about each other.
They are careful to honor their mother. It is such a blessing.
They all have applied themselves diligently in school. They have made good names for themselves with teachers and employers. They are known for hard work.
The guys at church like them, enjoy teasing them, and they can hold their own when it happens.
They bring me things—amazing rocks, wonderful feathers, gifts, songs, gadgets, cards, books—I lose track, but they seem to enjoy bringing me things.
They ask me for advice. Not often, but on important occasions.
They call me and write me.
They remember what I have taught them. When they forget, just a look, a touch, can remind them.
They have given me three incredible daughters-in-law.
Those who have children have taught their children to love me.

This list could go on, but ten is a good place to stop. To summarize, my sons have been good to me.