Little Diego has only days to live.

I mentioned little Diego once before. It's time to mention him again.

He just turned six years old today. His mother has been writing about his battle fighting cancer in the CarePages.

His battle has been going on for fourteen months now, and just yesterday his parents were given the news that he had only a few days to live.

Diego's mother is a strong and faithful Christian. Her daily entries have been inspiring to anyone living and caring for a terminally sick child. If you haven't visited Diego's CarePages,

http://www.carepages.com/ServeCarePage?cpn=DiegoLand&uniq=813111&extrefid=tlcupdate

go by today, and say a prayer for this little boy who only wants his family to be happy for him when he goes to heaven.

Keep the family in your prayers.

Thank you

bea

Did you get my alert last night?

Just learned that the journal alerts weren't working last night. I did make an entry yesterday. Scroll down. It's important.

I'm in the middle of kitchen reorganization. Will be back later with a genuine July 28th entry!

Bea

Pet Health and the Risk of Loving

Misty, as you recall, had surgery last month to remove a couple of lumps. I never did come back and post about the pathology results. For all the puppy lovers, my mini-schnauzer had a hemangioma and a melanoma, both of them benign.

The hemangioma was in her neck, blood filled, but not visible like a birthmark. It was more like a fluid filled lump, below the skin that kept growing over the past year.

The melanoma was black and almost circular. It had started out flat and even with the skin, but over the course of the year, it too increased in size and raised above the skin.

She is fine, and her scars are healing well. The hair has already grown over them, and they are no longer visible. Since the surgery, however, I have trimmed her coat, and darn if I didn't find two more flat black places that look just like the one that was removed! I see another vet visit for her in the future.

I did a little research on the melanoma in dogs. Here's what I found out:

"Melanoma is more common in dogs with heavily pigmented coats. Airedales, Scottish terriers and spaniels are reportedly predisposed; in our study, Schnauzers had more than four times as many melanomas as expected."  (Dr. Margaret Miller, University of Missouri)

Misty does have a darker pigmented skin and coat. She's almost a dark grey beneath her coat of grey. Apparently, it isn't as much related to exposure to sunlight as it is for humans. Seems to be a genetic thing, more to do with an error during cell division than exposure to sunlight. 

Dr. Jaime Modiano writes "Melanomas also can occur in the mouth, toes, or behind the eye. In general, skin melanomas tend to be benign, and those in the mouth, toes, or eyes tend to be malignant. However, there are many exceptions to this rule."

Interesting.

What I don't know about canine health would scare me if I knew! The things that can make our puppies sick and take them away from us are often not an inkling of a concern when we first become a pet owner.

I think most folks don't research pet predispositions to diseases (I didn't) ... I think most of us find a breed we like, or just fall in love with those big brown (or blue, or grey) puppy eyes and wagging tails. Sure, we'll get them fixed, we'll keep their shots up to date, and we'll spoil them rotten. But they can have serious diseases, just like we humans have, and then some.

If I had known of these things, would I have made the commitment and brought them into our lives so that we would fall in love with them and become attached to them, just so we could feel the pain of their loss when they died?

That leads me to all the things that can go wrong in the course of having a baby and raising a child. If I really knew how fragile this life is, would I have conceived? If I really knew (when you are young, you really don't think about those kinds of things) how devastated I would be if my baby were to die, or if my child were to die while I was a young mother, I probably never would have conceived or given birth. If I really knew.

I would have been too scared to risk that kind of loss, that kind of pain.

I've known others who realized the truth of that risk, and they did lose a child. They tell me it is the nightmare that I only imagine it would be. There is no getting over it. Life goes on, but you don't really get over it.

While losing a pet may feel like losing a child, losing a child is not like losing a pet.

But I didn't know the risks of loving and losing. I conceived and gave birth, and he was healthy. He had a good childhood, and I had a great motherhood experience. His life brings me great joy to this day. If I died tomorrow, I'd be happy, no ...  I'd be grateful, for the life I was given, and for the privilege of being his mother.

I think about my sister becoming a grandmother for the I-don't-know-how-manyth-time, and Jackie (SiennaStar) experiencing a rebirth of her own with Garrett. I realize that we take that risk every time we fall in love with our new babies. Whether our children, or new grandbabies, our friend's babies... we fall in love with them because that's what mothers do best.

I have fallen in love with babies born to church members, and at their Baptism I experience that same kind of feeling: that now I am responsible for some part of their living and growing up. I am responsible for loving them, guiding them, teaching them, watching them, and watching out for them. As the years go by, I may be on the sidelines or in the shadows of their lives. The child may never really be aware of it, but I am there ... loving them, praying for them, encouraging, supporting, and guiding them.

As we all do for other children in our lives. Some of us do it naturally, and others do it with sacrifice and effort. Just the same, someone is watching over the children in our lives.

But what about the children not in our lives? Who is watching over them? It's easy to think "Well, someone else is doing that." or "Their community is doing that... there are other villages raising those other children."

That's not always true ...no, that's not always true. It's whispered in our minds, but we don't want to know about that. Why? Because it's painful to think about. We know what those far away mothers are feeling for their babies in harm's way. It hurts us to think about it, so we don't.

I didn't realize where I was going with this entry. I thought I was going to merely update about my dog's health. Then it led into my concern over their health, and wanting to maintain their health. Which carried me into thoughts about the fragileness of life, of bonding with babies, and taking care of the children in my village versus other villages.

This is going somewhere, and I know where it is going, but I'm really not able to expound upon that tonight. I will address it again another entry.

Who is responsible for taking care of the children of the world?Please e-mail me or leave a comment.

Clues to Mystery Plant

The clues are attached to the pictures.

I hope I've given enough clues that someone can figure it out, or do a search... just for fun, you know.

I'll tell you more tomorrow.

I'm having some serious hot flashes right now and need to go cool off. Sorry!     : - /

A Surprise on My Deck This morning

"Bea!" my husband called from the back door this morning.

"What?" I called from my computer room.

"I need a bandaid!" He sounded annoyed.

He'd been working on my car, which hasn't been running right since we got back from Florida last month. I ran and got the box of bandaids, then met him at the back door. He'd already washed it clean, and dried the cut on the fatty pad just below his thumb, so I applied the bandaid while he explained how difficult it was to get old parts off the car so he could put on the new parts.

He glanced toward the table on the deck. "Did you put that there?"

"What?" I asked as I looked where he was looking. There was a basket sitting on the table. It was filled with things... gift like things.

"Oh! It looks like a birthday gift!" I peeked inside the cloth lined basket. There was a chenille rug with apple design, fit for a teacher, a pyramidal wind chime with birds and flowers, a striped bag-like cloth, and a bag of tomatoes, fresh off the vine, with leaves that smelled like thyme.

There was no card or note saying who it was from. It must be from my friend, Alyson, I thought. She is one of two neighbors and friends that I know who are growing their own tomatoes, and who would leave them on my deck without a note of explanation. I'll have to call her and thank her. 

But first, I want to figure out what that striped cloth bag-like thing is for.

Can you read this message?

View the pictures larger, select the slideshow option, and read what Steve is writing on our deck with the high-powered spray washer.

Name that plant!

For those of you who are gardeners or plant enthusiasts, here is a quiz.

What is the name of this plant?

I'm waiting for the flowers to bloom. They would be a dead give away!

Be the first to identify it!

Bonus question: In which two continents are these plants native?

I'll post the answer in three days if no one recognizes it, but I'm thinking we have a plant expert amongst J-land readers.

Getting on Board

It took four weeks to plan for and prepare, five days to hold it, and 30 minutes to take it all down.

It reminds me of cooking dinner. Preparation time is always longer than the time it takes to eat it.

Also reminds me of planning lessons for school. Planning and gathering the materials and resources takes considerably more time than the 20-60 minutes it takes to introduce and teach the concept.

We had a lively special Sunday service today, focusing on the Fiesta Vacation Bible School activities. All parts of the Order of Worship were there, but instead of the sermon, the VBS team presented a 12 minute slide show of the week's events. About one third of the kids who came to VBS (all total, we had 24 kids grades k-5, and four youth) showed up for Sunday Worship service today. They all received their certificates of attendance.

I thanked all the volunteers individually and asked them to stand for recognition. These are among the humblest of folks... most felt uncomfortable that they were being recognized for their work. They'd rather I didn't mention it, but I did. I know that without them, VBS would never have happened. They are the heroes of VBS without a doubt.

The slide show was excellent. Ann, our photographer throughout the week, put together an entertaining and historical record of our 2006 Fiesta VBS with a Slideshow from her laptop, projected onto a screen. She was able to check out he screen from our public library... Up until a week ago, we didn't know we could do that. Now that we know, we can have slideshows just about anytime we want to make one.

As we sat and watched the slideshow (Fiesta! music accompanied the photos), I laughed. I could hear our children singing along from the pews, and I turned my head every once in awhile to see them smiling or laughing at their pictures.

By the time the pictures from Day 4 came into view, I was getting teary eyed. What great memories we have made this year during VBS.

Two things touched me deeply, however.

One: Working with our pastor this week magnifies the loss I (all of us) will feel next Sunday when he preaches for the last day in our church. If you recall, a couple of weeks ago I wrote about how he was leaving us to go pastor another church.

Two: Four new church members got involved in this year's VBS. Jennifer, Heather, Amy, and Leslie had their first taste of Vacation Bible School, and from what I saw, they loved it, and likely they will be willing to help again next year! In addition, our Duke Intern, Madeline, had a major role as a storyteller and Fiesta Finale co-leader. And three other adults participated as storytellers... what all this means is that more and more adults are volunteering each year.

This prompts me to reconsider the way of things: Of those who are healthy and able to work, sometimes they like the idea of something, but don't want to do the work for it. Some may like the idea, and defer to others to do the work because they are already involved in other areas of the church's life. Some may like the idea, but are afraid to do the work. Others may not like the idea, and do not support the work for it. Then, you have the people who want to do the work, but don't know what to do or how to do it. Or want to help in some way but serious things are going on in their lives that prevents them from participating just now. Finally, there are the people who want to do the work, know what to do, and will figure out how to do it later (details).

So, in any given organization, you have this mix of people. There are probably other categories of people I've missed, but you get the point. Not everyone is on board equally at the same time, but generally, most of the people want to do the thing (in this case, VBS). They just need someone to get them started in the right direction, and to follow through with it.

Sometimes it takes time to convince people of a good thing, or a good idea. It takes time to get them all on board at the same time. I've seen that happen in my church. They've known it was a good idea and a meaningful cause long before I joined the church. 

Each year, more and more people are getting involved. They are seeing the importance of VBS, to the children of the community. Theyare discovering that their time and skills are valuable to this event, and they understand that if they don't do it, it just won't get done. More people are volunteering to do the work. Yes!

Seven of the new adults that got involved this year will likely be able to volunteer again next year. That is seven more people on board the VBS wagon!

Of Resident Polistes Vespidae

A couple of days ago, as I exited my house from the downstairs front door, I felt a light but familiar tap on the top of my head. I didn't wait for a second tap to know what it was. I ducked and looked up instinctively. There was an active paper wasp nest in the upper right corner of the doorway.

The wasps were not happy that I had walked through their territory.

It reminded me of the time a colony of bumble bees attacked me, following and stinging me as I fled into the house.

I clearly remember the pre-attack behavior of the bees. I was standing beneath the tree, unaware of their presence just a foot or so above my head. I had felt several taps on top of my head. I thought perhaps a spider was dangling above me, and called to my husband to look at my head and see if a spider had dropped on me. His eyes focused, then widened as he backed up and yelled, 'RUN! Bees!'

I didn't wait for another word, and I ran, kicking off my flip-flops, flailing my arms to wave them off of me. By then, they were stinging me, and one had flown or crawled beneath my t-shirt.

Once in the house, I started tearing off my clothes to get the bees off of me. Several stings later, the bees were either stepped on or swatted, and I was breathless from all the running and hollering I did. No serious allergic reactions except for the huge hard welts left behind on my neck, head, and back.

Later, after I had recovered from the attack, my husband tried to shoot down the nest with a BB gun. It was my then 12 year-old son's good aim and a killer pitcher arm that finally knocked it to the ground to prevent any future attacks (then Steve sprayed the entire nest with wasp killer spray and we watched for about an hour from our living room window while the bees died). They were not honey bees, and the nest was inside a bird house.

When I stepped out of my house a few days ago, feeling that warning tap on top of my head, I knew to move fast and to move away. Straight into the house to get a .... well, I admit, first I thought of the hornet/wasp spray that shoots 20 feet... but I saw my camera and grabbed it instead.

I took a picture of the paper nest as it hung in the place where the wasps had built it. When it had been only a few cells, I hadn't worried about it, but clearly I had ignored it too long, and now there were easily 20 or more cells, many of them already capped over pupating wasps.

After I took a picture of it, I did the dastardly deed and sprayed the adult wasps. They dropped instantly to the ground. Then I dislodged the nest.

Of course, I felt a little remorse that I had killed these wonderful insects because they do eat pesty garden insects. I wondered if they ate Japanes beetles, which can turn a garden or a tree into an unsightly lacy network rather quickly. I had no idea how to relocate the wasp nest without killing the inhabitants.

I did an aol search and found out that there are 22 species of paper wasps in North America, and approximately 700 species world-wide. They chew wood fiber to make papier-mache like material to form the cells of the nest.

And they will defend their nests if attacked.

Like I said, my passing below them did not cause them to attack me. They warned me with a head tap. Had I not moved away, they might have proceeded to the next battle strategy. I have seen paper wasp nests that are hundreds of cells huge. Now that's a nest I wouldn't want to mess with.

I just found another website, the Kentucky University Entomology department. I feel less guilty about killing the wasps after reading it. Though the wasps are not aggressive, their stings cause the deaths of possibly thousands of people each year in our country.

They suggested spraying the insects with wasp and hornet spray and knocking down the nest. Hmm, a little common sense, don't you think?

Have you been stung by a bee, hornet, wasp, or yellow-jacket? I'm going to state right now that I've never been stung by a hornet or a wasp, but have been stung by bees and yellow-jackets, and the yellow-jacket sting was far worse than the bee sting. Ten times more painful... swelling and pain lasted much longer than the bee sting.

I would love for you to leave a comment about your stinging experience. Thanks for sharing!

Day 5: Ananias helps Saul

One of my favorite stories is about Saul meeting Jesus on the road to Damascus. You know that story from Paul's point of view, but have you heard Ananias tell it?

In the photo, our pastor (Saul) is sitting in the hallway with his back to the door. Inside the classroom are the storyteller and the kids. We didn't want the kids to see him until Ananias goes to him.

Ananias explains his dilemma, about the dream he had, about Saul's wicked reputation, and how afraid he is to do what the Lord has asked him to do. He finally tells the kids that he will go find Saul, then he opens the door, and there in the spotlight (held by me and another lady) sits our Saul, only he wore a head piece to hide his identity. The kids never saw who played Saul. They only needed to see that Saul was there, that he was praying and crying, and that he was blind.

He found poor Saul, wounded in pride and spirit, blinded by the Light of God, waiting for the man he was told to seek, Ananias, and waiting for the Lord's will.

Saul was waiting on the Lord!!

He was crying and repentant at the feet of Jesus, when Ananias laid his hands on Saul's eyes. The scales fell away, and Saul could see again.

To illustrate this, our pastor was holding some confetti I had punched from paper, and he tossed them over his shoulder, into the classroom. The 'scales' landed on the floor and on his shoulder. The kids were startled, I was told by those in the room, when the scales came toward them. 

Even Saul was called!

Even Saul, responsible for the torture and deaths of possibly thousands of early Christians, was transformed (find the account in Acts 9:1-19) to a new life in Christ, and Christ in him. Viva!!

The point the kids learned Thursday was that Jesus is our helper... he helps us to do the things he asks us todo, even ifwe don't want to do them, or are afraid to do them. He is there with us when the job is difficult, dangerous, or daring.

The Lord is my helper. I will not be afraid.  Hebrews 13:6

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.       Hebrews 13:8

I'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

It has been a week of changing rooms, changing roles, changing minds, and changing hearts. I am touched by the dedication of the leaders in our church who took their roles seriously, who showed up each day, many after working all day. Some had to eat a quick bite in the car on their way to VBS, others didn't eat dinner at all finding their nourishment in the light snack that was provided. Several had small children to take care of when they got home, and had to get up early for work the next day... I am so grateful that they gave so much this week. They didn't just talk the talk... they walked the walk this week.

I thank all of them from the depths of my heart for making it happen, for making it real, and for sharing their love of God with 22 highly energetic kids who have been home for the summer! God bless you all!

I know some churches have stopped doing VBS because their congregation doesn't want to do all that work, or because it costs so much (in dollars and effort), or because not enough people volunteer to make it happen.

There may be other reasons, but I can say that to truly recognize the value of all the work, effort, time, and money that goes into this mission, one must be actively involved in the planning of it, and the event itself... watch the kids, spend time with the kids as they hear the stories, sing and dance with them when they learn the songs, help them make the crafts, join them in the games, share a snack with them, and listen to their talk all the while.

They will tell you what they know about Jesus. It will put you to shame what they will tell you about Jesus, and you will wonder how can they understand that so easily?

My most favorite time of each evening was when Alan called for one child to come forward to say a closing prayer. A few hands would fly up right away, but most of the kids were too shy to pray out loud. Still, there were the few, and each day a different child was called to come forward and lead us in prayer.

I was humbled to the core hearing their voices bold and clear, without hesitation, thanking the Lord, praising the Lord, and asking Him to help this person or these people... for I knew they didn't plan for this. Each one uttered his or her prayer with closed eyes and an open heart.

No wonder Jesus said we had to become like little children to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Yesterday was Day 5 of our VBS week, but it was so late by the time I sat down at the computer, and my mind just wanted to let it go for a little while. So I wrote it on Friday instead.

Unfortunately, I have no photo of the storyteller who played the role of Ananias. Thank you, Jean for your interpretation of Ananias. And thank you, Alan, for Saul... you looked like you were really sobbing. Brought tears to my eyes.

Day 4 In The Cave

Today I built a 12 foot tunnel in the Sunday School hallway of our church.

If you've been following my recounting of the past days' events regarding Vacation Bible school, you know what I'm talking about.

It seems like every year, there is one really major story prop that I want to build big. I make it my challenge to create a scene that the kids will get wide-eyed about. At least, that is my hope.

It's the kid in me. I'm the one who built rocket ships out of cardboard boxes for my younger siblings to play in.

One year, we used "Way to Go" VBS program. I turned the classroom into a whale's belly for one evening. Let's just say I used lots of black plastic sheeting, half a roll of duct tape, and a fan to keep it billowing and open. It filled the room wall to wall and the entire story of Jonah was told from inside the "whale's belly" complete with sound effects of indigestion provided by our pastor and a friend.

Last year, I recreated the tomb where Jesus' body had been laid. You could actually see inside the tomb, and see the white grave cloths folded on the stone. Ladders and cloths and lots of cushions provided the materials I needed to make it happen. The kids heard the story of the Resurrection sitting in front of the empty tomb, from Mary's point of view when she spoke to a man she thought was the gardener.

This year it was the tunnel leading into a cave, where friends of Jesus are hiding out because they fear the Roman soldiers will find them. Ari, one of the characters telling the story, works for the Jerusalem Cave Cleaning Company. He guides the kids and their leader (the other storyteller) into the cave, where they will be safe. While they are in there, Ari and the kids hear about Jesus, how he died on the cross then rose from the dead.

Ari thinks it's a nice story, but adds that he doesn't need to be saved because he's a good person. The leader goes on to demonstrate another way for him to look at it.

She tells the children that if they've ever told a lie, to close their eyes. They do this.

If they've ever hurt someone, lean into the middle of their circle. They lean in.

If they ever had taken something that didn't belong to them, link elbows.

At this point, all the kids are linked by elbows, leaning into the middle of their circles, foreheads touching, and their eyes are closed. She asks them if they would like to be stuck bent over like that in a dark cave forever? You can imagine their responses. They're kids!

Then, she asks them what it would be like if someone said 'I forgive you for taking what isn't yours,' and they were told to unlink arms.

'I forgive you for hurting someone,' and they leaned back.

'I forgive you for telling a lie,' and they opened their eyes.

Then she said 'You'd be set free, and that is what Jesus' love does for us. It sets us free.'

Isn't that an amazing way of telling the story? What a great illustration of what that kind of freedom looks and feels like.

Telling the story of the Resurrection in this way allowed them to feel what bondage must feel like. All hunched together, unable to move, unable to see, unable to stand up, and unable to walk away from the discomfort of the dark and crowded cave, they understood the concept of being lost, trapped, or imprisoned. Unlinking arms, sitting up, and opening their eyes, they felt a measure of freedom for that moment, and in that moment, perhaps a spark of understanding and awareness opened their minds.

Now, I did not write the story scripts that our storytellers presented this week. We purchased a Group VBS kit which provided the story scripts. All we had to do was learn the storyscript, set up the props, and tell the story, with as much drama as possible. Having a crew of people who are willing to share their love for Jesus is another ingredient for making VBS a living and loving outreach of Children's Ministry. We have that here.

I think the stories are a great way to teach about God. The kids are never going to forget walking, then crawling through the tunnel to get to the cave. They'll never forget being linked up so close to each other that their foreheads touched, how uncomfortable that was not being able to move freely.

They knew it was a cloth covered tunnel, but don't you remember, when you were a kid, playing under the blanket draped over the table or other furniture pieces? It was like that. Their imaginations were turned on as they heard the story.

(To add to their dark tunnel journey, I had laid a piece of shower curtain on the floor at the point where they would have to get down on their knees and crawl into the cave, and I splashed water on it so they'd get wet as they crawled the last few inches.)

Ari, and the kids, walked out of that cave with a greater understanding than they had when they first crawled into the cave.

That is my hope!

I haven't written as much about the crafts, the snacks, games, or music events because other volunteers are working those areas. Storytelling is only one aspect of a successful VBS, but it is the one I love doing the most. I think you get the idea that children learn best when they are making things, doing something with their hands, dancing, singing, playing a game, moving about, working together, helping each other, and talking about their personal experiences.

This is supported by academic research. This is what drives the Group VBS program. And why I like using them.

Day 3 with Zebedee

Zebedee explained to the children that he needed to hire someone to take his sons' jobs because James and John left him to follow Jesus. He didn't understand why they would do that, because fishing was an important family business. Without fishing, they had no work, and without work, they had no income. Eventually, Zebedee realized that Jesus was their leader, and that is why his sons left to follow him.

During the story today, the storyteller demonstrated the way he wanted them to cast out a fishing net. Well, the best I could do was provide a golf net my husband had used years ago to keep flying wayward balls from leaving our yard. He had kept it tied up in our backyard between two large trees. He found the net today in the attic, where it had been retired more than five years ago. It wasn't a fish net, but it could represent one, and it had no weights on it that would hurt the kids when the storyteller cast it out over them.

I did find a fish, in the grocery store, already gutted. Rainbow Trout. Less than a pound, head, tail, fins, everything intact except the guts. I bought it, froze it, and brought it with me to VBS. Worked fine for the story. The storyteller brings it out at the end of the story to show what she had caught, and invites them to come in for a closer look and touch it if they want to. Also, there is the fish odor factor... remember, this VBS is an experience for all the senses! Afterward, I took it home, nearly thawed, washed it, brushed some melted butter and lemon on it, then baked it for 30 minutes. It was delicious.

Tonight's props were the easiest to arrange: a single fake wall to hide the cd player with the seashore sound effects, a few strategically placed lights, a couple of oars, the net, the fish, and a stool. Oh, and a storyteller, dressed in Bible times clothing, and someone to spray water on the kids at just the right moment during the story (that would be the storyteller's son).

The children learned about following Jesus. We do want them to understand that discipleship isn't just for adults. Disciples are grown. With time, knowledge, and practice of the Christian faith, within the nurturing fold of the church community, we learn the importance of serving others. 

Realizing what it means to follow Jesus, and actually following him are two entirely different concepts, one requiring a greater, bolder commitment than the other. The latter requiring action of feet, hands, and heart, and not just forming words with the mouth. I have found it far easier to say I believe in Jesus than it is to do what Jesus asks me to do, or to go where he asks me to go. 

Day 3: Early preparations.

After I make this entry, I am off to the church to remake the classroom into another place. Yesterday, it was the home of Levi, a friend of Lazarus. Today, Zebedee tells the children about how his sons were lured away from their fishing business to follow Jesus. 

What I like about these stories is that we hear them as told from the point of view of a family member or friend of someone whose life was changed by Jesus.

If we are lucky, we'll even have a fish to add to the sensual experience... so far no one has called to tell me they have a real fish. I may have to go buy one. I'm not a very good fisherman, and no one I know has gone fishing during these unusually hot days. I'm also looking for a real fish net. Thought I had one, but when it was opened yesterday, found out it was only six inches wide and three feet long... for floral decorations and such. Not very practical for a casting out demonstration.

I'll be attempting to create a dock scene.

I'll also be making blue jello... for the Cantina snacks... I have no idea yet what will be done with the blue jello, but I'm thinking it has something to do with symbolizing the blue water ... and possibly Goldfish will be used... I'll take pictures tonight.

Another friend is telling the story of Jesus choosing his first disciples (Matthew 4:18-22). I hope to be able to take pictures of this one since I'm not involved in it like I had been the first two days.

Day 2, The Story of Lazarus

Today was my day to tell a story!

Of course, once again, I am bound not to publish photos of the kids who were there, but I did crop them so you could see them working on the children's mission blankets.

In the first photo, I am in character. I told the kids about Lazarus, how he was my friend, and how he had gotten sick, and his sisters had sent for Jesus, but Jesus didn't come in time to heal Lazarus. I told them how Lazarus had died. And how I thought Jesus should have come to help his friend.

Then there was a knock at the door, and the voice on the other side of the door claimed he was Lazarus! Well, I didn't believe him... it was a sick joke, I told the kids. But the voice on the other side of the door recalled some of our childhood pranks, and soon I was convinced it must be Lazarus, and was stunned when he finally walked into the room, carrying a pile of his grave cloths.

He told me and the kids the amazing story of how he had died, and how he had heard Jesus call his name. Even he seemed surprised, but once I got my senses about me, I was able to hug my friend and tell him how glad I was that he was alive.

Soon Lazarus had to leave us, but he left behind his grave cloths. I told the kids how incredible Jesus must be to stand outside a tomb and call "Lazarus, come out!" and then for the dead Lazarus to actually come out... alive and well. Only He has the power over death. Jesus is our Life!

Then, so the kids would remember the story, we took strips of the grave cloths, I gave the kids pens, and we wrote on the strips "Jesus is _____'s life." The kids had to write their names in the blank. We said a prayer asking Jesus to help us make him number one in our lives. Finally, I told them I had to go to the party to celebrate Lazarus's new life, but they should take the grave cloth strips with them, use them as bookmarks, and as reminders that Jesus is our life!

VIVA!!

I must say here, before ending this entry, that the young man who agreed to play Lazarus is the son of my best friend, Alyson. He, his mother, and his sister had just returned from a week long vacation trip to visit family in New York. He had taken the script with him, and memorized all his lines while he was away. Neither of us practiced in each other's presence before we put on our little play. He showed up ten minutes early, I gave him his 'costume' and we discussed where he'd stand, where I'd stand, and how loud he'd have to talk through the almost closed door. That was all the rehearsal time we got.

He played his part quite well, not missing a beat, nor a line. Volunteers like this young man are what makes VBS so meaningful and exciting.

The kids were focused during the entire story... not one of them talked out... I saw it in their upturned faces.... they were listening. And it's not that I'm such a great storyteller, but that I had a great story to tell!

We had to pose for the picture after the story was told, though, because during the story, the lighting in the room was too dim for a good picture. But I'm sure I looked that happy when I hugged my friend Lazarus during the story.

After the kids left, they went into the crafts activity. During that time they learned about the blanket mission, where Group VBS and International Bible Society are working together to send one million blankets to kids in Spanish speaking countries. The blankets come in two parts, and need to be tied together. The kids tie them together. This takes awhile, as some of the younger kids are not as coordinated in this skill as others, which means the older kids have to help them. A perfect combination.

Snack time followed, and you can see what they made before they ate it. A story was told to go with the snack, but I missed it.

There were also fun games outside, and music, but my batteries ran out. No pictures. I will discuss these VBS activities in later entries, though, because there was a lot of good teaching and fun going on there too.

FYI, I didn't come up with all these story ideas by myself... I got them from Group Publishing. They send us a kit that basically tells us how to organize and have a successful VBS. We've been doing this one for four years now, and we love the program.

Announcing a Brand New Journal at AOL!

This is for those who read my blog regularly: a dear friend of mine has started her own journal here at AOL. She is from South Africa, and has quite a story to tell. I don't know of anyone who has given up so much, and taken such risks as she has to follow the Lord's will in her life. Please stop by her journal and give her a big J-land welcome, and leave  a link to your journal so she can reciprocate. I know she'd love to meet you all. Bea

Debris pusher, that's me

Today's story was the one about the friends who lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof so Jesus would heal him. The focus of the story was on their determination to bring their friend to Jesus, and that Jesus forgave the man his sins. The point the kids learned was that Jesus is our friend.

I was not today's storyteller, but I did have a part to play during the story. I hid behind the 'walls' of the fake house with a fake roof. There was a hole in the roof, the hole made by the friends who had dug and broke through the roof top. I stood on a ladder, and at three different times during the script, I pushed debris through the roof top hole. It was a ploy to startle and surprise, to get the kids' attention. It worked. Also, I controlled the volume of the street sounds CD, turning it up and down as needed for the story.

What I hadn't thought about when I accepted the role of 'debris pusher' was that I would have to stand behind those walls for 20 minutes until after all the kids had left. I had not realized how hot it would get back there. Confined in a small space, closed in on all sides, I felt like I was in a sauna.

I also had not considered the aftermath of the story: the debris that I had pushed through the roof (including pieces of wood, leaves, and twigs) lay strewn on the floor after everyone had left. Wait a minute, I thought. Someone's got to clean this up... oh yeah, that would be me. Fortunately, one of our teens heard I needed help cleaning up the room, and she stepped forward to do the vaccuuming.

The panels that were the fake walls of the storyteller's house were quickly dismantled, and became what I had originally intended them to be: the desert scene for the Fiesta Finale. What you see in the pictures are the fake walls, covered by spray painted canvas... but on the other side, facing the real walls are the paintings of the desert scene. Clever, I know.

The evening went well, with only minor incidences. We didn't see our fifty, but instead had fifteen, which is our usual number for VBS. I had more crew leaders than kids to put in their crews.

Despite the low turnout, the kids had great fun. So did the teens and the adults who showed up to help.

Looks like tomorrow I will be a storyteller after all. The lady who had volunteered to do the story of Lazarus backed out due to a death in the family. So by tomorrow night, I have some lines to learn... yes, I'll be memorizing them. I usually need several days to get three pages of dialogue memorized, but I have only one. I'm interested in seeing how it plays out. Wish me luck!

Day 1

The 'stage' is set! All the players know their part, and the storytelling props are ready.

I've compared VBS to putting on a stage production only because that's what it feels like. I thought of another analogy, like team sports, but that didn't seem appropriate. With a team, there is hours and hours of practice, but we've had no practice. Everything will be done as if for the first time. It starts at 6pm tonight.

We've had no rehearsal either, although each adult station leader has a role to play. They have read what they have to do, and they've gathered the materials and supplies they'll need to do it. There's a Games leader, a Crafts leader, a Music leader, and a Snacks leader. Each of them will spend 20 minutes with the kids, teaching them something new related to the story and Bible point of the day. The Storyteller will also have 20 minutes to tell the story, and the Finale leader will have 20 minutes to pull it all together at the end of the evening before sending the kids home with a prayerful word and a daily challenge.

After today's church service, a few will meet with me later in the afternoon to prepare the fellowship hall for the Crafts activities and the Cantina Snacks, and to decorate the lobby for Registration and the Sanctuary for the Fiesta Finale. We'll discuss schedule rotations, which will depend upon the number of children who show up, and other pertinent details.

When Jesus told a story, he had no props. He was surrounded by them in his time. The people who heard his stories were familiar with the language and the symbols of the day.

When we (at VBS) tell a story about Jesus, his disciples, or the people he healed or brought back from the dead, we use modern day symbols, while trying to capture a hint of the culture of Israel 2000 years ago. We do this by having the storytellers wear a Bible times costume, lovingly made by a couple of grandmothers in our church. Usually, that is nothing more than a lightweight robe or tunic. The room the kids enter is dimly lit, and various props are set up to create an 'other place', which varies from story to story. One day, they'll be in a cave, another day at the home of a Lazarus' best friend, and another day, at the home where the men lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof so Jesus could heal him. Each story has its own atmosphere to help tell it.

I may not get back to this blog again until much later tonight, or early tomorrow morning for our first day's account.

One Day Until... and Storytelling

This was intended to be titled "Two Days and Storytelling," but last night's storm prevented me from making an entry.

I love to hear a good story, told by someone who understands the drama that is played out in the story, and appreciates the listener's point of view.

Stories told in the form of books and radio dramas entertain us, thrilling us as we use our own imagination to capture the vision of the story, adding the details we would associate with the character and plot. The voice of the storyteller is very important in telling the story.

I've heard a few stories told in person, and many told on the television. A good storyteller can make the story appear in the imagination of the listener, allowing us into the character's feelings and experiences, helping us to see and hear what the main character of the story senses. With one's voice, facial expression, and posture, a storyteller draws the listener in, commanding complete attention, able to startle and surprise, move us to laughter or tears.

We don't hear too many stories told in the traditional manner these days, not really. Certainly many exceptional books have been written that can be read out loud in the manner of storytelling, but again, the reader must provide the drama through her voice, facial expressions, and posture if she wants to keep the interest of the listener.

Some stories can be told in a few minutes, and some stories take longer. I like the stories that take longer. In high school, I heard The Canterbury Tales, told by my English teacher. She made it quite entertaining and we laughed as she described the Wife of Bath. My first year in college I fell in love with the voice of my history professor after he delved into the trials and travels of Gilgamesh and Enkidu. I didn't understand everything he told in that first introduction, but I was mesmerized by his face, the pacing of his words, and how his eyes reflected the change from one emotion to another.

Other stories I have heard (before I ever read them in a book) are the fairy tales from Europe and England, and the American folk tales, and Aesop's fables. A favorite childhood story of mine was The Wolf and the Seven Kids by the Grimm brothers. Why that story? Maybe because there were seven children in my family, or possibly because someone gave us an album (33 1/3 rpm) with the story, as told by Paul Tripp (I think that was his name).

There will be storytelling at our VBS, beginning tomorrow evening. The props I'm building are to go into the room of the storyteller, to create the atmosphere of another time and another place. Each day a different story will be told, and each day the room's props will be changed to accommodate the story, much like a scene change on stage.

In the past, I have been one of the storyellers, but this year, I was able to find five volunteers among our congregation, people who offered to help, and who accepted their role as storyteller after they had seen the story script. I miss that part already, but I plan to be listening as they tell the stories of Jesus.

Starting Sunday, I will be giving an account of those stories and other VBS events.

Three Days, and Goats

I didn't stop to smell the roses, but I did stop to look at the goats. I'll get to that part, but first....

Today was different from the previous days of preparing for VBS. Until today, I've been working on the props alone. I drove to another church this morning to talk about our mutual plans, and soon found myself working with them on their props.

You see, we're going to share our VBS props, which includes the desert scene panels I painted, the tunnel I'm building, the fabric I've bought to use to create various story environments, and the props they made or are making: the styrofoam 8 foot cactii, a colorful seven foot styrofoam direction sign, and various styrofoam pottery to decorate as needed. Also, they loaned me some store bought decorations.

Since our VBS is the 16th, and theirs begins on the 23rd, well, it made common sense to help each other, then share with each other. What a brilliant idea! Several churches did that this year, and I much prefer doing it this way then working on it alone.

I didn't know I'd be helping them paint when I set out in my non-air conditioned van for their church. It happened quite by surprise, because I was only planning on showing them a few things they could use, give them some idea of where to put them, how big they were, etc.

When I got there, three ladies stood outside painting props made of styrofoam (so much lighter than plywood).

They were thrilled to see what I had brought (one finished desert panel and piece of tunnel frame), and we talked about how they could use the props I had made. Then they showed me what they were doing. I was pretty excited about what I saw, indeed.

When it's all put together, I'll take pictures, then you'll know why I've spent so much time preparing.

I offered to help them finish the painting. Two hours later, my old Chevy van was loaded with two painted styrofoam giant cactii, the tall styrofoam sign, a plywood burro (very heavy, recycled from last year's zebra for Serengeti VBS), and the beautifully detailed Mexican "pottery."

I made a quick run into town to another church which is finished with their VBS, and borrowed some flagpoles their folks had made out of PVC to hold up our Daily Challenge flags. Then I drove around the corner to the hardware store, bought four mousetraps, drove back to my church and dropped everything (except the mouse traps) off.

Now the goat story:

On the way home at last, I drove past a familiar sight: goats in a wooded lot, fenced in of course. I'd always thought about stopping and taking their picture, and every time I think of it, I don't do it. Usually I don't have the camera with me, or I don't have the time, or it's just not on my mind because I'm distracted and don't notice them.

But I had noticed them, I did have the camera, and amazingly, the time to stop. I pulled into a (coincidence) church parking lot just across the street from the fenced in goats, and walked slowly toward them. I didn't want to startle them from their mid-day siesta and grazing.

I took several pictures, but not as many as I'd like. The Big Daddy Goat stood up when he saw me (I took his picture), he snorted (which I took as a warning), and when I turned away from the little billy goat to see what Daddy Goat was doing, I backed away.

Despite the four-foot high barbed wire fence that separated us, I did not hesitate to leave. The male goat had lowered his head and was staring at me. I did not wait for a second snort. I thanked him very much and said good-bye.

There was an uneventful trip to the landfill, and by the time I got home, answered a few phone calls, made a few of my own, it was almost 5:30 pm... it had been a productive day.

Any goat experts out there who can tell me what kind of goats they are? They're quite a handsome herd.

Four Days until...

VBS.

It's 12:30, and I'm taking a break. The heat is heavy, especially if you are outside in it. I managed to find a shady place to work, though, so it wasn't too bad. Still, I had to quit when the sweat kept dripping down my glasses and stinging my eyes. A shower is all I can think about.

But first, an update on VBS progress....

 I've been spray-painting the PVC pipes that will become the framework for the tunnel, which will be used for next Wednesday's story. I also spray painted, with browns, orange, and black, a 13 foot length of fabric that is 5 1/2 feet wide. It sort of looks like desert camouflage, which is perfect for the tunnel. I have two panels that length, and I'm thinking it's enough to cover the outside of the tunnel.

VBS starts Sunday evening, and everything seems to be falling into place. The ad has been placed in the paper, folks have made house to house visits inviting the children, the Crafts Leader is preparing her materials, the Games Leader is preparing her games, the Sing and Play Leaders are working on their songs, The Hot Bible Adventure story tellers are memorizing their scripts, and the Cantina Leader is planning the snacks for each night.

Our Pastor and Duke Intern are working on the Finale for each evening, which is the wrap up where the kids take home a Fiesta Buddy (etched with Bible verse) and a Daily Challenge to do at home. The Daily Challenge is an application of what they have learned related to the Bible verse. 

And you already know what I'm doing if you've been following this journal for the past few days.

I hear water running.... gotta go!

PS I haven't heard from Siennastarr at Waiting To Exhale... in fact, when I tried to visit her journal, the message said that there are no journals for siennastarr... I am concerned. I last heard from her on June 28th.

Five days and counting...

The painted panels are complete. Here are the photos I promised, in the aol pictures window to the left.

I didn't think to take pictures of every step in the process, however, I took a few along the way.

If it wasn't for Ted, I wouldn't have gotten this far. He is a friend and member of our church family who is always at the ready to do whatever has to be done, and when it has to be done, in our community. I didn't have to ask him if he would do the job, because I knew he would. He beat me to the question, though. As soon as he heard we were working on VBS, his words were, "Bea, what do you want me to build for you this year?"

I love that man!

Yesterday, I wrote about the saguaro cactus. I couldn't add the photo then because I had not received permission from the photographer. Today I received his email and his blessings to include the photos.

This one is the Giant Saguaro Cactus in Saguaro National Park, Arizona, complements of Terragalleria.com, an online gallery of travel photographs by Quang-Tuan Luong. They are free for personal use, but absoutely, he wants you to ask for permission to use them.

Tuan's photographs from places all around the world are not only aesthetically appealing and beautiful, but spiritual and poetic. When I see his photos of the landscape in Arizona, I see with understanding.

Here's another one taken at sunset in Arizona on the Hugh Norris Trail. Again, I did not take this photo. It's from Terragalleria.com, with permission.

Click here for interesting facts about the Saguaro. It's where I found the facts included in this entry.

Ooh, these pictures are so big! This one shows the detail of the arms of a saguaro, which usually start growing after the plant is about fifteen feet tall!  Slow growing, the average saguaro has about five arms and is 30 feet tall. The bigger they are, the older they are (generally), and the more arms they will have.

Now if you'll take a look at my interpretation of the Saguaro cactus, you will see mine are very young, having only two arms, which tells you they are at least fifteen years old!

Ted is going to make 'feet' for the painted panels so they will stand freely, and then I'll add some other objects and scenery to further create a Mexican desert feel for our Fiesta.

Six Days...

I love progress, the kind you can see.

Today I completed the four-panel desert scene, but had forgotten to bring the camera with me to church, so although they are finished and standing up at the front of our Sanctuary, I do not have pictures to show you. Tomorrow for sure.

As I was painting the cactus on the panels (each panel has its own cactus, and each one is a different size), I came to a place where I knew I needed to add something, like a detail or a texture.

I was imagining the saguaro cactus, the one in the American Southwest that stands tall and straight, with arm-like projections reaching up to the sky. I didn't know that the plant is about 75 years old when it starts growing its arms!

Since I have never seen a saguaro cactus in person, having never been to the southwestern deserts of this land, I had to rely on photos and movie images of this amazing and stately plant.

The saguaro doesn't have exterior spines, but interior ones which catch and hold water for the plant. Saguaro fact: it can hold nearly a ton of water in those spines.

The green paint was still wet on the cactus image, and I needed to indicate the grooves of the cactus somehow. Suddenly, it occurred to me put down the brush and use my finger... I dragged my index finger down the length of the cactus, and sure enough, the vertical groove I needed appeared, looking very groovy!

I continued finger painting the rest of the cactus, and in less than an hour I had all four panels completed. Tomorrow I will show you the pictures.

I also bought all the PVC parts I'll need to build a framework for our tunnel and cave system. Yeah, I know, cardboard boxes would have served here, but I'm looking at something bigger and sturdier, and something that can be taken apart and put back together again into some other arrangement next year. Besides, the person taking part in the story cannot crawl on his knees, so I had promised to build the tunnel so he'd only have to stoop over, so the tunnel is going to be about 4 1/2 feet tall, 4 feet wide, and maybe-possibly 12 feet long. Making it longer makes it more exciting for the kids having to walk through it in the dark.

You see why going to DisneyWorld a few weeks ago was good for me? It was like going on a weeklong Artist Date, like Julia Cameron writes about in her book The Artist's Way.

http://www.amazon.com/

When I see PVC pipe and joiners and elbows, I see giant tinker toys! Think of all the things you can build with them... yes, it's fun playing this way.

VBS has never been so exciting!

Seven Days Until VBS...Countdown begins.

This may only interest other VBS volunteers and directors, which means most of you might want to give a cursory glance and move on. But it's something I would have written about in my paper journal, and I don't want to not write about it because I think it won't interest readers. That would mean I write for other readers, and not for myself.

The truth is, I do write for myself (who else, but me, would be interested in a space-age blue gel ant habitat, slugs, a moth emerging from its cocoon, or a surgical procedure?) with an awareness of other readers.

I'd be lying if I said VBS (Vacation Bible School) wasn't one of the most exciting events of the year for me.

For weeks prior to the event, I get depressed, worried, and anxious. It's those few weeks where I'm waiting to hear from others who have volunteered, but have not talked with me about their plans, and the time during which I am waiting to gather all the necessary materials and supplies I will need. I wait on phone calls to be returned, and I wait on UPS to deliver the VBS materials I have ordered.

This is why, I suppose, the issue of waiting was recently on my mind at the Wendy's restaurant.

Before the Wendy's incident, over a week ago, another waiting experience occurred. My car had broken down right at a busy intersection at 5:30 pm, rush hour traffic. I was pulled over enough to allow other cars to get around me easily enough, but I wanted to be off the road. The gas station was just fifty feet away. I knew many people would be pulling in behind me, and they'd be fuming and cursing me until they realized I had a car that wouldn't start. I didn't want to be the cause of their delay getting home from work, but there I was. Causing it.

I called my husband at work to let him know, and he talked me through several things I could do, but the car would not start. I waited several minutes, hoping that would help, but still, no turn-over. I called AAA road service on my cell phone, and waited while the operator took my information. As cars pulled up behind me, and then around and by me, I waited for the tow truck to come.

Finally, a gentleman wearing blue work clothes and county employee I.D. stepped up to my window and asked me if he could help. I told him I was waiting for a tow truck, and thank you for asking. He stayed by the car while I waited, and then I turned the key one more time. It started! I pulled over immediately into the gas station at the corner. At least I was off the road. I dared not drive the car home lest it should quit running at the next intersection.

So I waited for the tow truck, which amazingly showed up within fifteen minutes! To make this story short, the car got towed, and I had a ride home.

I was grateful that I'd had the cell phone with me, and for the man who stepped up to the window for staying by the car. I was relieved that the gas station was so close by. The tow truck arrived quickly, and I ended up at home, safe and undisturbed. It was quite a peaceful waiting time for me, and considering how it could have played out (my car could have been rammed from behind; someone could have yelled at me as they drove by; had I not had the phone, I would have had to leave the car in the road and walk to the gas station to make the call. etc.).

During that time of waiting, I was thinking about the phone calls I had made, and the people who responded. It didn't matter to me that two were paid to help me (AAA operator and tow truck guy) and the other wasn't. I called, and they came. The one man showed up that I hadn't called for. He just knew I needed help.

The thought occurred to me (and here is where I tie this in with VBS) that I didn't need to worry about VBS as much as I did, that I shouldn't get so anxious about something that ultimately brings me joy. Just like when my car broke down, the people I needed to help me with VBS were just a phone call away.

Don't wait for them to call you, Bea, you call them!

The next day, I made several phone calls to people who might be able to help, people who had said four months ago that they  could, or would help with VBS, but had not confirmed it with me in recent weeks. Many folks were on vacation, some would be going on vacation, and others confirmed their willingness to participate.

This week is the last week before our VBS begins. Everyone has met with me in person, and I'm feeling confident that all will go well. There is a charge of enthusiasm... I felt it this morning as I spoke briefly with several people who are involved.

While some folks memorize their story scripts, one ponders the mechanics of the props I need, and others gather their materials and supplies, I will be creating the props to transform the Sunday School classroom into various Biblical scenes and locals. My favorite scene is going to be the tunnel and cave scene, where the kids hear the Resurrection story. Tomorrow I build the tunnel out of PVC pipes.

Despite the worries of two and three weeks ago, I'm feeling pretty good today that all the volunteers will show up and do their part, and share their love for Christ, leaving God's fingerprints all over everyone and everything!

Possibly tomorrow I'll have some pictures of the Southwestern desert scene I'm painting on canvas panels. They'll be the backdrop for the VBS Fiesta! I have some final touches to make on the panels, then I'll build the tunnel.

Well, first I have to buy the PVC to build the tunnel frame.

Lots to do tomorrow. Good thing I have the summer off from teaching!

The countdown begins.... .

Blogging power!

Hmmm, I'm trying to figure out what aol journal readers seem to appreciate more:

Do they like my pet stories more? The bug stories? The reflective stories with a Christian slant? the stories about what I've done, what I'm doing, and what I want to do? or where I've been, where I'm at, and where I want to be?

As I browse through my blog entries, it seems I get more comments when I include photos of my dogs. And I'm thinking that when I start adding the larger pictures without the aol picture frame, even more people will be happy.

Also, I notice more comments accompanying the thoughtful, reflective entries about God, people in general, or things I've learned from day to day. I find these types of entries in other people's journals most interesting as well.

Often, many of you share a profound thought or story here and there that inspires and transforms my thinking. Some humorous, some painful, but always meaningful.

It never ceases to amaze me: the power of blogging!

I was all set to give an example or two, but I see that it is time for me to get the Sunday dinner started. My husband will be home from work soon, and I want to share a nice evening meal with him tonight. I hope you have a good week. Thank you for visiting today. Bea

Waiting to fly

Do you think we should be compensated for waiting?

Should there be some kind of reward for showing patience?

I wondered about this today after leaving a Wendy's restaurant. I had ordered a chicken sandwich combo. I don't know what took them so long, but I didn't feel a rush, so I waited. ... and waited. Five more customers passed by me. The manager twice appeared and apologized that I was having to wait. The lady putting my order together also apologized for my wait.

I didn't keep track of the time, I was not in a hurry. I was hungry, but a few minutes wouldn't kill me. Finally, I was given my carry-out order, with another apology from the kind lady working behind the counter.

Then she said the strangest thing, I thought.

She said "Can I give you a Frosty, or some other dessert since you had to wait?"

"Oh...no, no, no thank you," I said as I turned to leave.

"Are you sure. We're sorry you had to wait," she replied.

"No, it's not a problem. Thank you... bye," I smiled, and I left.

That's when I started thinking about the reward for being patient.

When did we start having to reward people because they waited?

This makes it appear that waiting is a hardship at its worst, and inconvenience at its best.

When did we think that waiting was a negative action instead of a positive action?

It might have something to do with the place being a Fast Food Restaurant. We expect to walk in or drive in, place an order, and get it within seconds if not a minute or two, and most of the time it does work that way.

But often, there are new people who are being trained, which slows down service, or they may be short on staff on any particular day, which will slow down service, or the computers may not be working properly, or an employee isn't doing their job properly... any number of events can take place to make us have to wait a little longer.

I think we need practice waiting, and not just waiting and fuming and complaining to the person standing behind us or in front of us that service is slow, or the cashier is slow, or they need to open more lines... or whatever the probem is.

We need to practice waiting with peace in our hearts. And look around us at the other people, and notice who they are, what they are wearing, what kind of work they do.

Look out the window and notice the weather, the time of day, and while thinking about all the things we have to do with the rest of the day or the week, think also about how lucky and blessed we are to be standing in line in the first place.

How can I wait on the Lord if I cannot even wait a few minutes in a restaurant line or a grocery store line?

I want to fly and soar with the wings of an eagle... I look forward to that. I have done it before, I want to do it again.

But first, I have to learn how to wait with patience, love, and joy.

I wrote a book review!

Have you ever wanted to write a book review? I have, and I did write one at amazon.com for a book I had read recently.

Since March, I've been reading Jennifer Roberson's Sword Dancer books, and currently I'm on the last in the series of six volumes. If you go to the website by clicking on the link above, then scroll down to the customer book reviews, you'll find it. There a few others, and then there's mine.

I'm not boasting about it, but I did want some of my friends here to read it. Please come by and check it out.

I was anxious about doing it at first, but then I thought, why not? I did like the book, in fact, I enjoyed all the books in the series. Point of view (told from Tiger's perceptions about life, love, and religion), setting, humor, and character development and a sense of adventure combine with magic and mysticism to create the most intriguing sword fighting saga I've ever read.

I could almost believe the main characters are really the swords themselves if it weren't for the fact that during the entirety of one volume the sacred jivatmas, which seem to have a "mind and heart" of their own, are absent from the story altogether.

But I won't go into that, nor tell you which book they are missing from.

Although, if you are in a seeking mood, and just want to know, I think I gave that little piece away in a comment I wrote up at Natalie's Interface  about what book I'm reading for the summer.

Have you written a book review? Leave a comment for me so I can read it.

Would you like to write one? Just go to Amazon.com, find a book title that you would like to write about, click on the words Write an online review and share your thoughts with other customers. (well, don't click on the words here to do it, but you click on the words at the amazon.com location). Yeah, okay... you knew that already.

Yeah, mine is amateurish in content, but it was a good first book review. I look forward to writing some others. Maybe I'll even attempt to write one for John's Ghost Brigades.

Someday... it's on the list of things I want to do this year.

You know, travel west to Oregon, illustrate a book, lose twenty-five pounds, and write a book review for Ghost Brigades at amazon.com.

Yes indeed, I need to broaden my horizons.

Fear of Thunder

Max and Misty couldn't be more different in their responses to thunder.

Misty is fearless as she runs toward the end of the deck. A first time observer might think in horror (or humor, depending upon your feeling about little dogs) that she is about to leap into eternity, as there is about twelve feet of free-falling space between the deck and the gravel ground below it. To my joy, she always comes to a stop when she reaches the railposts, and barks with a ferocity at the invisible intruder rumbling above the treetops. She loves the thunder, loves chasing it.

I imagine that to her it's a big squirrel running around amongst the upper branches of the trees, elusive as any of the Common Grey Squirrels in our area. She can catch a mouse, but has never caught a squirrel. She never gives up hope, though, that one day, she will bring one down. But that's another story.

Now Max, on the other hand, fears it. Long before we hear the sound of distant thunder, Max hears it. I wonder if he doesn't feel it as well.

While Misty is eagerly barking and leaping out the door to take chase, Max skulks quietly and quickly to the bathroom, his head and tail lowered, his ears flattened back against his head. He is our early warning system.

"There goes Max skulking to the bathroom... there must be a storm coming!"

There he will remain, laying on the floor, waiting for the sound to end. Tonight, I felt sorry for him. I put his bed on the floor for him. At first he didn't accept it, but after awhile, he sat down in it, then laid down. He looked more comfortable at least.

Tara of Peach Pages wrote about her own schnauzer's fear of thunder, Security in the Master's Arms. It's a very tender piece about how she takes care of her precious pet when it is afraid. She connects her dog's behavior to our own, to the trust we put in our Lord during a raging storm.

She writes about how we have atendency to hide from God when we know we have done something wrong. She closes with this:

"And it's when we leave our hiding places and leap into the Master's arms that we find peace."

I find her writing to be descriptive, touching, and out-reaching. If  you haven't visited Tara's blog, start today with this entry.

Midnight Walk Surprise

I was outside this morning at about 2 a.m., taking my dogs for a walk in the woods because one of them was having a rough night.

As I gazed at my feet, flashlight beam falling where it may, I saw what appeared to be a long skinny snake.

Quickly I aimed the light on the snake suspect while my brain tried to figure out what manner of critter I was looking at. It was not a snake, but two very elongated slugs, one following the other, end-to-end! I guessed together they measured nearly twelve inches long. I had never seen slugs this long before, nor a pair of slugs following each other.

I ran to get my camera while my dogs considered their favorite places to respond to nature's call, and returned to take several pictures. Realizing that the size of these slugs would not be truly represented without something to compare them to, I ran back in the house to get the ruler.

The only things I knew about slugs, before this encounter, was that they were related to snails or they were snails without shells, they were garden pests, they left a slimy trail that turned silvery when it dried on concrete, and that beer, salt, and various other products easily caused their demise.

I was disappointed that the damp duo did not demonstrate their full dimensions by the time I returned with the ruler. Perhaps I had annoyed them too much with all the camera flashes, manipulating the ruler around them as they continued to maneuver away from me. They seemed intent on following each other, and they appared to be moving relatively quickly, as far as slugs go. If I had known what their true intentions were, and had I known exactly what I was looking at, in other words, had I been informed or educated on these things, I would have pulled up a chair, and waited for the show to begin!

But I didn't know, and in that ignorance that we often refer to as bliss, I missed out on one of nature's most bizarre and beautiful ballets of sexual intimacy. C'mon, think from the slug's point of view!

It wasn't until after the sun came up, and after I did an AOL search that I learned the identity of the two slugs. They are Leopard slugs, quite common in these parts, though not native. They are also common in Australia, but not native. Apparently the slugs came over from Europe in the early days of colonization.

Here are two great pages to visit. This one is a video presented by BBC Science and Nature, Life in the Undergrowth. I hope you can see the video just by clicking on the link above because it is truly awesome. Just a few minutes of the bizarre and beautiful ballet of intimacy shared by the mating Leopard Slugs. The music accompanying the scene hints at mystery and magic. Warning: graphic video!

The other place to visit has some beautiful pictures of the Leopard Slug.

I don't have time to write more, but you can check out the two websites and find out in greater detail what I could have told in a few lines. I have to run to take care of some VBS matters. Please check out the video... it is amazing!

I didn't know they did that, like that! Did you?

I remember watching an octopus documentary on public TV, and was captured by the same delicate dancing of their mating manners.

What wonders we have in our own backyard.

Not an entry.

Technical difficulty here... I had made an entry, then lost it. Didn't know it got saved, so now I'm editing the one I had written to replace it. Pardon me.

Monday Morning Photo Shoot: Bug's Eye View

From By The Way:

Your Monday Photo Shoot: A Bug's Eye View

Let's get a little creative for this week's Photo Shoot:

Your Monday Photo Shoot: Pretend you're a bug. Take a picture from that point of a view. You choose the bug: Fly, spider, bee, wasp, caterpillar, flea, a dung beetle which used to be Gregor Samsa, whatever. Just make sure you view the world from that point of view.

When I read this entry this afternoon, I thought, I can do this! I'm in between stages of the VBS project, and needed a little break so I scooped up my camera, erased all of Saturday's picnic pictures (I had already downloaded them on the computer), slid on my sandals, and headed for my favorite area, the backyard.

Steve and the dogs were already outside walking in the relatively cooler shade of the trees. The heat is heavy this week, and the breezes feel like they blew across a desert in Arizona before reaching us in North Carolina. A heavy and dry heat, which I would take any day to a heavy humid heat.

So I'm thinking, bug's eye view, hmmmm. My dogs are always checking out interesting things happening in the ground. The other day, they found a large black beetle, but the pictures I took that day are more from my point of view than a bug's. The bug was safe after they inspected and played with it awhile. It crawled away, protected by its shiny black armor.

Max has a strange habit. I haven't looked into what may be the cause of it. He pulls up little patches of grass, then scoops up some of the dirt as he pulls the grass up by the roots.

This is not a dog with nausea eating grass, then throwing up. He simply seems to find something that smells good, and clears the ground getting to it. The black dirt will cake his lower front teeth between the canine teeth and his gums. He has some pretty big fangs, but all the dirt is caught below his lip, and in between those lower front teeth.

I tried to take a picture of the teeth filled with dirt, but the dirt didn't show, and the photo was out of focus, so I didn't include it. Max did not like having me pull open his lower lip while I aimed the camera at his face. Anyone know what causes a dog to eat grassroots and dirt? It seems to be keeping his front teeth clean. I keep forgetting to ask the vet about it.

So here you see what that big black beetle might have seen when my curious puppies approached him. How scary that must be to see a giant's face and teeth and tongue coming at you like that.

Sudden Changes and Surprises

I wrote an entry just a few days ago about the unexpected surprises I find when I take a simple walk in the yard. Little did I know to what extent that analogy could be applied. Since yesterday, my heart and mind have been flip-flopped. I was crying yesterday, today I rejoice. Here's a quote from that entry:

"Sometimes things happen to you and around you when you seemingly do nothing to make them happen. When we can step away, we may retrace our steps to discover why we are where we are, and what we did to get there. There's a cause for every effect, and an effect for every cause.

...even in one's own backyard, things take place seemingly beyond our awareness. We forget our input that begins the process when we first planted a seed, or transplanted a bulb. We forget the life that already existed before we even set foot on the piece of land we come to call the homeplace."

I didn't specifically apply it then in the spiritual sense, but it could well have been.

Something happened Saturday that precipitated a change in the greater realm of my life, but in a real sense, the initial events that set the Change machine into motion began happening beyond my awareness, longer ago than yesterday.

The sadness Saturday was caused by the news that our pastor was going to be taken from us, and reassigned to another church.

The pastors in our church organization have what is called an itinerant position... that is, they are only guaranteed to be with our church for one year at a time, and every year thereafter their placement within the UMC is dependent upon their wanting to stay in that assignment, the congregation wanting them to stay in that assignment, and the greater need of another church. Every year, it comes up for review, like an evaluation. That's the way I understand it.

In this case, another church is in greater need of the skills and talents of our pastor than we are. He had only been with us for two years, and we just found out yesterday that another church is suddenly without a minister, but our pastor will be able to hold them together and build that church back up again. Pastors are sent where they are needed the most.

We know he can do it. He's been a fine pastor in our church, and we love him dearly. There wasn't a dry eye in the church this morning when the rest of the congregation learned of the news.

Sadness, disappointment, even some anger at the system itself that allows this to happen. Not everyone appreciates this organizational process, but it is what it is. I'm not going to rant about it. Just explaining the situation.

The congregation is not the only ones to feel the mixed emotions at such an announcement. The pastor and his wife are often left with a heart that is torn. On the one hand, I imagine, the pastor is grievous about leaving a home and family that he has come to love. On the other hand, there is the excitement of truly following the Lord's call, and going where he is called to go, knowing that where he goes, he will do something more, he will be using his skills and talents to their fullest.

One of our church leaders, Sunday morning, sensing that the anger felt by some may cause them to leave, spoke to us all about the need to understand that we were grieving, and so was another church who would be losing their minister because he would be coming to our church to replace the one that was taken from us. With tears in her eyes, she reminded us that our pastor is not our church. Our church will continue on no matter who is the pastor. We don't come to worship the pastor, we come to worship the Lord. She said we had to let him go.

Yesterday afternoon, after the initial shock had worn off, and we dried our eyes, and made some sense of the entire sudden change of events that is affecting the entire congregation, a small group of members met with the new minister and his wife. It is a formality in which we try to make the new pastor comfortable, and he tries to help us get to know him in an hour or so, to break the ice.

What a surprise for us! There was no ice to break after all. We listened to him speak about his faith walk, about his past experiences as aminister and educator/administrator, and about his wife and her work (EC teacher).

Those of us who heard his words at this first meeting felt an assurance that this was going to be a good move. This man is being called to our church, in the same way our pastor is being called to another. I could see the love for the Lord on his face, in his eyes, in the way he and his wife spoke in support of one another. I could tell by the responses and comments of those faithful leaders around me that they were feeling what I was feeling: he is going to be a great minister in our church. We are going to do great things together because he is very close to God. He will be a leader for us.

I know others won't warm up quite as quickly as I did, but I'm feeling positive that they will come to like him. A lot faster than they imagine they would.

So what began as sad news yesterday has become happy news for all of us involved: for the church who will recieve our pastor, and for us. I don't know where all this juggling ends, and I wouldn't want to be in the position to shift and transfer pastors from one church to another. But I will say, the people who have been in that position in the past have generally matched us up very well. We are asked to trust the people who do this, and we do, sometimes with a little less enthusiasm than at other times. 

This year of change is turning into a much greater change than I had anticipated, with surprises like the ones I've found in the yard. Things are happening that I did not set into motion, yet they are affecting me and others in a grand way. There is more to this remarkable story that I haven't told.

It will unfold soon.