2012 - The Year of the Dragon

Sunday January 1, 2012
Daily quotes are taken from a “Book of Days” entitled “Around the Year with C.S. Lewis and His Friends” compiled by Kathryn Lindskoog and published by the C.R. Gibson Co.
"It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations if you live near him." J. R. R. Tolkien, "The Hobbitt.
 Never discount the reality of the supernatural.
Job 41:1-34  New International Version (NIV)
1 “Can you pull in Leviathan with a fishhook or tie down its tongue with a rope?
2 Can you put a cord through its nose or pierce its jaw with a hook?
3 Will it keep begging you for mercy? Will it speak to you with gentle words?
4 Will it make an agreement with you for you to take it as your slave for life?
5 Can you make a pet of it like a bird or put it on a leash for the young women in your house?
6 Will traders barter for it? Will they divide it up among the merchants?
7 Can you fill its hide with harpoons or its head with fishing spears?
8 If you lay a hand on it, you will remember the struggle and never do it again!
9 Any hope of subduing it is false; the mere sight of it is overpowering.
10 No one is fierce enough to rouse it. Who then is able to stand against me?
11 Who has a claim against me that I must pay? Everything under heaven belongs to me.
12 “I will not fail to speak of Leviathan’s limbs, its strength and its graceful form.
13 Who can strip off its outer coat? Who can penetrate its double coat of armor[b]?
14 Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth?
15 Its back has rows of shields tightly sealed together;
16 each is so close to the next that no air can pass between.
17 They are joined fast to one another; they cling together and cannot be parted.
18 Its snorting throws out flashes of light; its eyes are like the rays of dawn.
19 Flames stream from its mouth; sparks of fire shoot out.
20 Smoke pours from its nostrils as from a boiling pot over burning reeds.
21 Its breath sets coals ablaze, and flames dart from its mouth.
22 Strength resides in its neck; dismay goes before it.
23 The folds of its flesh are tightly joined; they are firm and immovable.
24 Its chest is hard as rock, hard as a lower millstone.
25 When it rises up, the mighty are terrified; they retreat before its thrashing.
26 The sword that reaches it has no effect, nor does the spear or the dart or the javelin.
27 Iron it treats like straw and bronze like rotten wood.
28 Arrows do not make it flee; slingstones are like chaff to it.
29 A club seems to it but a piece of straw; it laughs at the rattling of the lance.
30 Its undersides are jagged potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
31 It makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment.
32 It leaves a glistening wake behind it; one would think the deep had white hair.
33 Nothing on earth is its equal— a creature without fear.
34 It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud.”

New Year's Resolutions

I don’t make them, because I don’t keep them. A resolution is a promise to yourself, and I hate disappointing anyone including myself. So the following list is NOT a list of resolutions, just some things I need to do:


1. Walk or swim everyday to prepare myself to be able to do all I want to do when Bruce and I go to Zambia in April. (My doctor says you can improve your fitness and energy level in eight weeks.)

2. Lose weight. (The doctor says up to 20 pounds. I’m aiming for at least 10.)

3. Finish my book by the end of March so I can spend April getting ready for the trip. (And I don’t want any of the several dozen--maybe 300 or so--people who read Non-Prophet Murders to die waiting to read Murder Intelligently Designed.)

4. I finally have a daily devotional book that I can get excited about. Each day has a quote from C.S. Lewis or one of the many writers from whom he drew inspiration. The page for each day includes space to add my own thoughts. I intend to find a scripture to go with each one and post the result on this blog.

Stop Waiting

In the late sixties, it became fashionable for young Christians, of which I was one, to “wait upon the Lord,” as per the Psalm. The popular interpretation was that one should ignore any personal desire and wait for direction from God, seemingly a “Thy will not mine” attitude but it in reality a bow to eastern religions that label all needs and desires evil.
Today people say “let go and let God,” an admirable sentiment if it means letting go of pain, worry, hatred, etc.,” but not so if “letting go” means abdicating.
One possible outcome of abdication is wasteful but harmless: The abdicator watches as life runs down hill like spilled water to the lowest possible level—no goals, no ambitions, no dreams—a simple, howbeit harmless existence. Like the servant who buried his talent, these abdicators lead fearful, unfruitful lives.
Another likely possibility: Someone attached to the abdicator by love or family or both is forced to make life decisions for that person. The resulting stress is harmful to both parties and to the relationship.
The most onerous consequence: An opportunistic or psychotic person makes decisions for the abdicator, convincing him or her that those decisions are the will of God and that his or her compliance is a mark of righteousness. The result is pure evil.
I have come to believe that “waiting on the Lord” does not mean standing still but “waiting” in the sense of “serving”—doing the works that God created us to do; allowing Him to steer a moving vehicle, not forcing Him to push a dead one.
Only when we know and voice our desires can we ask that God’s will be done and recognize and accept when He gives us something better.

A Living Sacrifice

I do not know what I would do,
if I were asked to die for you.
I pray that I would gladly die,
for the hope that lies ahead.

But sadly I confess it’s true,
it’s harder far to live for you,
and be a living sacrifice,
than to lie among the dead.

So Father, help me gladly stay
upon the straight and narrow way.
And change my heart that daily sighs,
“I’d rather die instead.”

Cat Scratch Fever

Yes, it is a real disease and I have it. Have I mentioned we are taking care of a cat, who came to us as a flea-bitten kitten just before Halloween? Well, we are. His name is Punkin' and he bites and scratches. I have the characteristic papule on my wrist and a very painful area in my arm pit that could be a swollen lymph node, and the pain is slowly moving down my arm. The internet says that cases usually resolve without treatment after a month or so, but this hurts! So I saw my doctor and am on an antibiotic.


So far, Punkin’ has broken a cheap candleholder, unplugged my printer twice, left scratches on my hands and thighs, climbed my kitchen door and forced me to cover the screen, drunk out of the toilet and trained me to keep the lid down, peed on my white bed spread and on my husband's fresh laundry and cost me nearly $100 for an office visit and antibiotic. But he also has stare-offs with squirrels outside our glass door. He, for reasons known only to cats, careens from room to room sliding crazily on our hardwood floors, fights his reflection, makes toys out of everything from ball points to lint and cuddles and purrs "like a kitten."

We will give him back to our daughter when she moves into her new apartment, and we will miss him, but gladly.

THe Schreiber Sisters

         My sisters and I began singing together in church and for family reunions when I was eleven and my youngest sister at the time was seven. The Lennons were singing back then, and I was younger than their youngest. When I was twelve, we joined the Jack Noel Happy Valley country show that traveled to county fairs all over Indiana, Illinois and Ohio. Eventually, we sang every week on WTTV, first when it was located in Bloomington, Indiana then, when it moved to Indianapolis in the sixties, we drove there every week. The station was owned by Sarkis Tarzian whose son now owns WRCB in Chattanooga. Our appearances continued until I left for college in nineteen-sixty-seven.

"My Grace is Sufficient"

Occasionally I write what is known as “inspirational” pieces. I don’t do it on purpose. I want what I write to be true and edifying, but I am hard pressed to give non-fiction a “happy” ending. The best I can hope for in most cases is to present a conundrum. To ask, “How, in the light of Christ, does this situation make sense?” “What can a Christian do; how does a Christian cope?” and to prayerfully say that only God has the answers, and I am not privy to most of them. Given this disclaimer, you are warned that the following story is true.

Simply stated, our congregation is watching a young family lose their baby son to the same metabolic disease that took their only daughter a little over a year ago at the age of four. Both children were born with no apparent problems, but during the short time Danielita was on this earth, she lost the ability to hold up her head, the ability to eat solid food, her smile, her laugh, her life. Without a miracle, we will watch these young parents relive the most horrible experience I can imagine.

We prayed for Danielita for four years. We are praying for Daniel.