An Announcement

Remember this post? And this one?
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Earlier this month, I visited Lancaster Bible College in Lancaster, PA. I took some pictures, watched teenagers explore the campus, ate in the dining hall and laughed more than I have in months! I did something else while I was there. I applied.
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This week, I received my acceptance letter. And class schedule. And predicted graduation date.

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I'm a college student, can you believe it? I can't.
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After high school, I completed my Associate Degree, then got married and had kids. I have always wanted to go back and get my Bachelors, but had no idea when I would get another chance.
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I'm enrolled in LBC's Degree Completion Program which will allow me to complete my degree online, and at the end, I will have earned a Bachelor of Science in Bible and Theology.
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I'm excited (and nervous)! My classes will begin in July.

Chiaroscuro

My word of the day is:

Chiaroscuro - Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ros
Etymology: Italian, from chiaro clear, light + oscuro obscure, dark
Date: 1686
1 : pictorial representation in terms of light and shade without regard to color 2 a : the arrangement or treatment of light and dark parts in a pictorial work of art b : the interplay or contrast of dissimilar qualities (as of mood or character) 3 : a 16th century woodcut technique involving the use of several blocks to print different tones of the same color; also : a print made by this technique 4 : the interplay of light and shadow on or as if on a surface 5 : the quality of being veiled or partly in shadow

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I'm most certainly not an artist, I picked this word up at an drumline competition last year, where one of the bands used this as the theme of their presentation. Chiaroscuro, as they portrayed it, was the stark contrast between light and darkness.

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This week, that word took on new meaning for me. Darkness and Light are intertwining themes throughout scripture.

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"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.

Matthew 5:14-16 NIV

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In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

John 1:1-5 NIV

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When we accept Jesus, we become lanterns in a world engulfed in darkness. The flame isn't ours, it's borrowed, but it reflects brightly when we actively seek out the source of our light. Recently, I learned an important lesson. Darkness isn't passive. Spiritual darkness is insidious, it creeps into unlit corners and leaps to take advantage of any given opportunity. Christians are charged with being the light of the world, and that doesn't happen if we let ourselves become apathetic in our faith. A dim lamp leaves a lot of room for shadows. For instance, have you ever spent time reading at the end of the day when the sun is setting? At first, you have plenty of light. Then, engrossed in your book, you become oblivious to the fact that you are squinting at the page. Finally, you look up from the page and wonder when it became so dark. Kind of like what happens when we become distracted in our Christian walk? Everything is going fine, then we get wrapped up in other facets of living and soon we wonder when all of the junk crept into our lives.

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Remember Chiaroscuro. The contrast between light and dark. Keep your light shining bright!
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On a side note, E-mom generously invited me to write a guest post, so if you visit Chrysalis, you can read my review of the book One Million Arrows by Julie Ferwerda.

What God Requires

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8

Today, I am thinking a bit about my favorite Bible verse. In our Sunday school class we are studying William Wilberforce and what it means to be a world changer. The class is inspiring and I do believe that God can use us all to be world changers if we submit to His will. World changing sounds like hard work to me. It seems overwhelming if you think about it. But you know what, Micah 6:8 brings me much peace. God requires us to be just, love mercy and walk humbly by His side.

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You know what?

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Done diligently, it just might change the world!

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Isn't God awesome?

Recipe for Insanity

Last evening would have been the perfect evening for that whole human cloning thing to have worked out.

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I'm not pro-cloning, mind you, but last night it seemed like a good idea.

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Meetings, sewing projects, cake baking and food boothing do not, and should not mix. Mix in a son who needs his hunting pants hemmed NOW and a daughter who needs picked up from babysitting and it becomes a recipe for insanity.

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Fortunately for me, my husband took on the baseball food booth and the daughter pick up. Leaving me with, well, the rest.

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The meeting was easy breezy, the cake mixed up in a jiff, which left the sewing project. What should have been an easy little project turned into a frustrating mess. I purchased a pattern and the fabric to make it with, but apparently this pattern was from the new sewing line Vague (get it? Like Vogue, but, well, vague). The detailed instructions were lost on me, causing me to deviate from the step by step pictures and just make it up as I went along. Fun. Lots of fun. My heart ceased to be in it when the clock struck 11:00.

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My son would like me to point out that his hunting pants are still not hemmed. Apparently there is a gobbler out there who has a date with destiny tomorrow morning. Also, I was informed that hunting is impossible with rolled up pants. Methinks the boy needs to learn to sew.

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So, as I sit here the next morning, the required cake is in the refrigerator, the sewing project is all but completed, my kitchen looks like it has been bombed, and I am bone tired. It's Friday, though and that has to count for something!

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Happy Friday, everyone!

My Bangs Look Good and Other Lies I Tell Myself

I was on a book buying hiatus. I really was. I have at least four books in my "to read" pile and was planning on finishing them before I even set foot in a book store. Ah, Barnes and Noble, alas, I find you irresistible.

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I found the Confessions of a Tired Supergirl blog several weeks ago, and just loved Susanna Aughtmon's sense of humor. When I read the description of her new book, it went on my "to read" list. When I found the book at Barnes and Noble, it went with me to the check out.

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My Bangs Look Good and Other Lies I Tell Myself is a book containing some very powerful Biblical truths disputing some very rotten lies we tend to believe about our relationship with God, such as God is Disappointed in Me, I Am Stuck in My Present Circumstances, I Need To Be Good So God Will Love Me, and many more. Each of these lies are dispelled with gentle humor, like a conversation with a girlfriend who just "gets it". The author weaves stories from everyday life with scripture and it packs a powerful punch.

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I really did love this book - it's a keeper!

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As a sidenote, my husband has pointed out to me that I love all of the books I have reviewed on my blog, which in his opinion seems unrealistic. So I want to clarify, I do NOT love every book I read. In fact, recently, there was one particular book on the subject of lies that I wanted very much to like, but just could not. So I made a decision at that point that I would much rather spend time recommending books that I truly enjoyed rather than just reviewing everything I read. Books are sometimes a matter of taste, and what appeals to one person may not appeal to another.

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Happy Reading!

A Day at the Symphony

I have a confession to make . . . . .
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sometimes, I am *gulp* . . . . .
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WRONG!
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Hard to believe, right?
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Please tell me it's hard to believe. I need to hear that sometimes.
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Five years ago, my daughter came home from school filled with excitement due to an assembly all of the fourth graders took part in. At this assembly, the elementary band director regaled the youngsters with the wonders of playing an instrument, in a very similar manner, I imagine, as Professor Harold Hill would have.

Or maybe not. I wasn't there. I prefer to imagine it that way, though.
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The result of this sales pitch was an extremely enthusiastic nine year old who would expire on the spot if she was not promised band membership in the immediate future. I was skeptical. I had a very brief and mediocre music career in middle school. My parents purchased the instrument, I practiced it wholeheartedly for about, oh, let's say a month, before merely going through the motions for a couple of years. I tried to negotiate with my daughter. Maybe she could stick with choir. No go. Soccer is good, how about you just keep playing soccer. She insistently pressed the "how to lease an instrument from an over-priced place of business for nearly the same price as a semester at college" pamphlet into my hands. With a deep sigh, I asked, "What do you want to play, if we decide to let you join the band? And I'm not saying that you are going to join the band." The answer to that question was a filibuster on the amazing innumerable qualities of the clarinet. My husband and I held her off for 24 hours with a solid "we'll see".

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At church that Sunday, my husband consulted with a retired band director. When we got into the car and pulled out of the parking lot, he mysteriously turned in the wrong direction. "I have a stop to make.", was his only explanation. In very short order, my daughter was clutching a refurbished b flat clarinet, lovingly restored by that retired band director. Two years later, excelling at the b flat clarinet, my daughter was introduced to the bass clarinet at school. They hit it off splendidly and she now plays bass during concerts and b flat during marching band.

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In fact, she and the bass clarinet make such beautiful music together, that after months of practice, they played in a college symphony yesterday afternoon. My daughter was invited to play as a community member. The music was breathtaking. We were so proud. And I was so glad that five years ago, I was wrong about her playing an instrument.

Spring All Over the Place

Remember this post from a few weeks ago? Cheerfulness is a Choice
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It was a glorious spring weekend and I really enjoyed my road trip to Lancaster Bible College. One of the stops on our tour was this mural. The funny thing was, it was so beautiful outside that the campus looked exactly like this painting!

While on the tour, this tree begged to have its picture taken and I obliged. Especially since it got all dressed up for the occasion.

My final confirmation that spring has arrived is this:

Little League has officially begun their season. Check out the handsome lad carrying the flag!

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While I am waxing rhapsodic about the season, I thought I should share this verse:

See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.

Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.

The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me."

Song of Solomon 2:11-13

Nicely sums it up, doesn't it?

In Need of Organization 101

Or, to be more accurate - Remedial Organization.
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In the next month, I need to re-plan the Chonda Pierce trip, finish planning ladie's Bible study, fundraise for a summer mission trip to Atlanta, survive the end of band season and make a wedding cake.

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I think I need a personal assistant, but at this point, I think the best I could do would be to hope that one of the dogs learns to type or make phone calls soon.

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I am officially declaring tomorrow the day I get organized!

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I'll let you know how it goes.

Road Trip

I'm on a short road trip today. Got my sunshine and rainbows today with a side of shoo fly pie!

Prescription for a Bad Day

(simply because this picture makes me smile!)

Today knocked me down, kicked me a few times and stole my lunch money. That’s how it felt anyway. The day began dramatically with a clap of thunder and a bit of lightening, but I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for work and had hope that today would be filled with sunshine and rainbows.

That, my friends, did not happen.

Today was filled with uncertainty, irritation and stress. Lots of stress. Not sure- did I mention the stress? By the end of the day I was a mess, just wrung out and used up. Once dinner was in the oven, I had a bit of time to reflect on my somewhat disastrous day (okay, so disastrous might be a tad too dramatic). I tried to figure out where I went wrong today. Where could I have spoke or acted differently that would have changed the today’s course? Was there anything I could have done? Maybe, maybe not. Some days are just those kind of days.

It’s funny, though, as I sit here this evening writing this post, dreading what might be round two tomorrow, an old Sunday school song has lodged itself between my ears. Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say Rejoice, which is, of course, taken from Philippians 4:4. Having this particular song stuck on repeat prompted me to take a closer look at this particular verse, and the verses surrounding it.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:4-7 NIV

Wow. As it turns out, the early Christians were apparently pretty familiar with bad days. I’m sure that their opinion of a bad day and my opinion of a bad day were vastly different. I’ve been known to pitch a fit if I put a hole in my nylons. They were risking persecution, imprisonment and even death. Paul was very familiar with those dangers. He spent time before his conversion being the persecutor and after, being the persecuted. Yet, as he closes his letter to his brothers and sisters in Christ, he gives them some very solid advice. Rejoice. God has your back. God is big. Huge. Immense. Unfathomable. And He has it all under control. Rejoice.

My Knight in Shining Armor

This is my favorite picture of my husband. It was taken a few years ago, while we were on vacation in Williamsburg, Virginia. He loves old ships and had such a good time looking around the docks at Jamestown. When I look at this picture, it makes me think of how fortunate I am to have so many good memories with him.
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We played together on the playground in elementary school. I was the only guest (his age, anyway) at his 6th birthday party. Sometimes we were placed in the same classroom, sometimes we were not. It was probably easier for the teacher when we were not together.
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In high school, we ate lunch together nearly every day. We stood together before school every morning, too. Our senior year, we even had the same gym class, and that's where the memory I wanted to share with you comes from.
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Now, just so you know, our gym classes were rarely co-ed. Boys met on one side of the gym and girls on the other. A barrier was pulled across so that we were not distracted by the other class. But, one day in late spring, for some unknown reason, our gym teachers decided to merge the classes. I should probably state for the record as well, I hate running. I am unable to chew gum and walk at the same time, and running and breathing simultaneously is a skill I just do not have. Normally, our school required all of us to run 1 mile every year. This was usually scheduled in the fall or early spring when the weather was cool. I dreaded the mile run every single year I was in school. Somehow, though, I managed to get through it. That day in late spring however, the weather was unseasonably warm, the sun was blazing down, and I had last period gym class. I was completely unprepared for the phys. ed teachers to announce that we had a special guest (an army recruiter) and that we would be joining with the boys on a mile run that afternoon. I panicked. I tried hard to negotiate. Nothing worked and I soon found myself jogging at the back of the pack of slender and athletic teenagers. For a chubby chick in high school this was maximum humiliation. It was no surprise when the teachers began yelling at me halfway through to try harder. It was no surprise that I was so miserable I was trying desperately not to cry. What was a surprise was watching one of the guys turn around and run back towards me. My best friend slowed to a walk and put his arm around me and asked if I was okay. His teacher began to yell at him to run. The yelling was ignored. He linked his arm with mine and began to walk with me back to the gym, all the while telling me it was okay, not to worry about it and that I was probably not going to be recruited into the military any time soon. It was the first and only time I ever left a class without permission, his too.
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I know that it might seem strange, but of all our shared high school memories, that is my favorite. He rescued me. Plain and simple. He saw that I was struggling. He saw that I was miserable. He saw that I was not doing well. But that's not why he led me off that field that day. He knew I was crumbling beneath the snickers and the snide comments of a few of the other teens. He knew that I wanted to be disappear. He knew I did not know how to get out of that situation, so he did it for me.
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All these years later, he is still as just as awesome as he was that day.
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I am so blessed!

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Consider the Cross

Tonight I took part in a Good Friday service which was a joint venture between three area churches.
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Our church features a wooden cross hung on the wall directly behind the pulpit. On Ash Wednesday, the cross was draped with purple, today it was changed to black and Sunday it will be covered in victorious white. I imagine our church is not uncommon in this observation.
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As we prepared to go to this evening's service, I thought about the cross. A lot. Growing up, I always felt confused about Easter. Christmas was easy to revel in. Babies are blessings. Baby Jesus brought such joy to the world, God sent His son to save us from our sins! Rejoicing at Christmas seemed natural. Easter, for me at least, was harder. I remember, as a child, sitting in a service at Easter, and hearing the crucifixion account described very graphically. I was horrified. Somehow, up until that point, I had managed to trick myself into believing that Jesus, being the Son of God, was somehow exempt from feeling pain and suffering. That delusion ended dramatically that day.
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For a very long time after that particular service, I alternated between feeling overwhelming guilt and shame when I thought about the cross or trying very hard to avoid dwelling on the subject altogether. I'm not proud of the way I felt, but I'm just being real. The guilt was terrible. I felt so ashamed of the fact my Savior had to go through such a horrible death for little, insignificant me, who despite all He did for me, still couldn't get her act together. Completely missing the fact, by the way, that there was nothing I could ever do to earn what Jesus did for me that day on Calvary. I got that He loved me, I was just missing the fact that He LOVES me!
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It took time for me to grasp the fact that what He did for us was a gift. Gifts aren't earned - they are given. This gift wasn't given begrudgingly, or with strings attached. This gift was given with great love and unmeasurable grace.
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Think of it this way. If I scraped together every available resource I had to buy someone I love a gift, would I want them to feel guilty every time they looked at it? No. Would I want them to feel unworthy? No. Would I want them to avoid the gift every time they thought about it? NO!
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I would want them to take joy it that gift. I would want them cling to that gift. I would want them to think of my love for them every time they saw it, thought about it or used it. And if I, flawed as I am, feel that way, how much more so must Jesus feel that way about us?
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I hope, as Easter quickly approaches, you take some time to consider His gift to us that day long ago on the cross.