Friday, December 11, 2009

The Christmas Card

I love Christmas cards ... the humorous ones, the sweet ones, the spiritual ones, the cute ones and the braggadocious ones. From childhood I've kept a sample of all the cards I've sent and saved the ones I've received as well.

How many people do you know who keep old Christmas cards? Last summer, in a rare mood and feeling rather proud of myself for cleaning out, I threw out the precious cards I had saved for 35 years. Today I'd like to see them once more.

Some of my earliest memories of Christmas include the cards my parents sent and received. Mother always displayed the wealth of remembrances on our mantle. The overflow went into baskets. Many baskets.

Everyone we knew sent cards. The first arrived in late November, right after Thanksgiving and before we could even think of "getting out the Christmas things". Others were mailed, ours included, the day before Christmas. "That counts, doesn't it?" we would assure ourselves as we dropped them in the mailbox.

Today a card is an investment. So is postage. Some friends are strapped for time. Others money. Still others are celebrating the season in celestial realms. Not many cards arrive, making the ones that the postman brings even more precious to us.

Happy day! This day a card arrived from Frank and Janet, my longtime American neighbors in England who bravely moved home to San Francisco six summers ago. Seeing the familiar handwriting, I am sadly reminded that I'll never again have the privilege of popping over to share newly picked Cotswold strawberries.

The card, though it boasts a winter scene painted by Grandma Moses, floods my heart with memories of gracious summer luncheons and candlelit dinner parties, travels in William, the middle aged Bentley, tempting treasures in England's auction houses, sweet chats about this and that, gardens, flowers, antiquities, pubs, a sleeping fox, and opera...most of all, opera.

I treasure the card. Not for the photo. There isn't one. Not for the artist's view of yesteryear, enjoyable as it may be. But for the sweetest of memories. For the friends I hold dear. God bless you, Frank. God bless you, Janet.

Merry Christmas!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Rise up, o men of God!

Rise up, o men of God!
Have done with lesser things.
Give heart and mind and soul and strength
To serve the King of kings.


Rise up, O men of God!
The kingdom tarries long.
Bring in the day of brotherhood
And end the night of wrong.


Rise up, O men of God!
The church for you doth wait,
Her strength unequal to her task;
Rise up and make her great!


Lift high the cross of Christ!
Tread where His feet have trod.
As brothers of the Son of Man,
Rise up, O men of God!


When Abraham was bargaining with the Lord in Genesis 18, he asked Him if He would spare Sodom and Gomorrah for the sake of 50 righteous men.


The Lord said, "Yes."


In an amazingly bold series of requests, Abraham kept revising the number down, down, down, eventually asking the Lord to spare the cities for the sake of 10 righteous men. Why then were the cities and their inhabitants, the surrounding plains and all that grew on the ground utterly destroyed? When the time came to stand boldly, only one man stood against the crowd, and even he negotiated and was willing to compromise with evil.


Where are the righteous men of our land?  Stand up and declare that you will render what is God's only unto Him . Read and sign The Manhattan Declaration which ends so boldly:

As Christians, we take seriously the Biblical admonition to respect and obey those in authority. We believe in law and in the rule of law. We recognize the duty to comply with laws whether we happen to like them or not, unless the laws are gravely unjust or require those subject to them to do something unjust or otherwise immoral. The biblical purpose of law is to preserve order and serve justice and the common good; yet laws that are unjust—and especially laws that purport to compel citizens to do what is unjust—undermine the common good, rather than serve it.

Going back to the earliest days of the church, Christians have refused to compromise their proclamation of the gospel. In Acts 4, Peter and John were ordered to stop preaching. Their answer was, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God's sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.” Through the centuries, Christianity has taught that civil disobedience is not only permitted, but sometimes required. There is no more eloquent defense of the rights and duties of religious conscience than the one offered by Martin Luther King, Jr., in his
Letter from a Birmingham Jail. Writing from an explicitly Christian perspective, and citing Christian writers such as Augustine and Aquinas, King taught that just laws elevate and ennoble human beings because they are rooted in the moral law whose ultimate source is God Himself. Unjust laws degrade human beings. Inasmuch as they can claim no authority beyond sheer human will, they lack any power to bind in conscience. King’s willingness to go to jail, rather than comply with legal injustice, was exemplary and inspiring.


Because we honor justice and the common good, we will not comply with any edict that purports to compel our institutions to participate in abortions, embryo-destructive research, assisted suicide and euthanasia, or any other anti-life act; nor will we bend to any rule purporting to force us to bless immoral sexual partnerships, treat them as marriages or the equivalent, or refrain from proclaiming the truth, as we know it, about morality and immorality and marriage and the family. We will fully and ungrudgingly render to Caesar what is Caesar’s. But under no circumstances will we render to Caesar what is God’s.
According to the US census bureau as of 2008 the population of the United States is 304, 059,724. If just one out of every hundred Americans took a stand, there would be 3,040,597 signatures on the Manhattan Declaration. As of today, there are only 178,000 brave souls, men and women, who have added their signatures.


Rise up, oh men of God!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Usernames and Passwords

How many usernames and passwords does one accumulate before the circuits blow? I have been unable to access my blog site for weeks, months, years, decades....because I couldn't sign on with any combination of usernames and passwords. Not the one I was sure I had set up, not old ones, not new ones I'd planned to use in the future.

Now that that hurdle has been knocked down, I'm ready to blog but have forgotten anything interesting I had planned to write. All my thoughts just flew away!

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Corrie ten Boom

The Hiding Place was one of those books which turned me upside down as a young adult. Once I was invited to join devotions at the Billy Graham office when Corrie ten Boom was visiting Atlanta. I have no idea what she shared. I only remember that the room was dark but she radiated peace, sweetness, love and light.


Quotes from a godly woman whose life challenges us to follow the Lord without counting the cost:


"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God."


"If you focus on the world,
you become distressed.
If you focus on yourself,
you become depressed.
If you focus on Jesus,
you will be at rest."

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Oh, to be in England, Part 2



The sheep on the hillside, the deer in the park, the otter who lives in the lake...these are all part of my England. 



Afternoon tea in the garden of a friend 


or in front of an Inglenook fireplace in a centuries-old mansiond.



Dining on raspberries, strawberries and cherries I picked in the field.   English asparagus...and soup made to order.



Villages of honey-coloured stone where the craftmanship and traditions familiar to Shakespeare must adjust to an invasion of cars and the computer-savy generation.



The library which opens every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, the roadside stand selling cabbage and tomatoes on the honor system, and movies in the village hall once a month.



Beginning every conversation with a comment about the weather and dining strictly between the hours of seven and nine.



‘Locals’ filled with smoke and conversation and dining pubs serving sophisticated fare from Europe as well as local dishes of pheasant. No, thank you. I like mine in the field, please.


Spelling honor with a u and pronouncing Bath with a soft vowel.





Driving for forty minutes after dark without seeing one neon light.





Watching the sunset over Wales from Ilmington Hill and thanking God that I was able to see such a sight just once in my life.  And most of all the walking paths...



and the company of friends. 



It’s a place to be quiet. To be still and to know that God is God 
... a world apart.


Archibald Leach

"I pretended to be the person I wanted to be
until I became that person, or he became me."
Archibald Leach (aka Cary Grant)
Born in England in 1904, Archibald Leach
originally worked as acrobat in a circus.

How many folks do you know who are pretending to be someone they want to be? Some pretend well. We would never suspect. Some badly. The whole world knows.

Who does God say you are? It is God who is at work in us to transform us into the person He created us to be. We choose moment by moment the truth or a lie, the real or the fake, wisdom or foolishness, confession or denial.

Let our heart's cry be, "Create in me a clean heart, oh God, and let me lean not on my own understanding. Fill me with the your understanding and and let me not be wise in my own eyes."


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Iran's Web Spying Aided By Western Technology

Just in case the daily news isn't sobering enough, another assault on liberty everywhere. (Click on the headline for the link.)

Monday, June 22, 2009

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Saturday Morning on the Porch

The cats and I are are enjoying a Saturday morning respite on the porch, listening to the morning chorus. From my perch I wouldn't know that songbirds are endangered. The music continues with all the texture of a Baroque concerto.

At least one of us is fascinated by the visitors feasting at our new feeder. The other two are sleeping in the sun, oblivious to the ever changing scene which would have caused such a stir in their younger years.

As I write, a goldfinch is perched atop the lucite dome. Young cardinals and blue jay are dining next to a beautiful pair of purple finch. Ah, an adult blue jay just showed up, and off they all flew. Teenagers must be the same the world over.




Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Technology Overload or Oh to be England - Part 1

The truth is I love learning, including learning how to use all that is available to me when I open my computer and say, "Hello, world!" The greater truth is that I miss having the personal time to read, reflect, take walks, write letters, make strawberry jam and any of the other activities which were part of the ebb and flow of life before technology took over.

I have come to despise Facebook after my inital fascination and elation over reconnecting with college friends and folks I taught twenty years ago. Twitter has proven to be a great source of information and an even greater way to communicate with a broader audience, but finding that audience takes more time. Add email, voicemail, text messages, research and I am counting the cost in hours lost. Hours of life. And life is what I experience in England.

In England I find time to walk among the sheep and newborn lambs. Time to sit in a window seat and read. Time to enjoy the deer roaming past my window and the pheasant who pecks and asks to come in. Time to wander in an out of the village shops and talk to my loquacious neighbor. Time for tea in the garden.

In England I have to drive six miles to the village and stand in line at the Cotswold District Council's lone public computer in order to check email. Forget Tuesday. It's Market Day. And Saturday and Sunday. Half day closing on Wednesday, too.

My attitude quickly shifts to "forget my other life". This is real. Wired 24/7 is not living.

American Revolution 200 years later: Give me liberty! Give me England!

The way home

The way home