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On this gorgeous Autumn Day,

Just me and my Best Friend —

We’re going away . . .

I have an Uncle.  His name is Lloyd Gingerich.  (He married my mother’s sister who is just older than my sweet Mama.  That’s how I got him as an uncle)   He is 82.  He is funny and active and smart and a big tease.  He and Aunt Orpha have 7 children.  Their youngest, Marie, was born when Uncle Lloyd was almost 43.  She didn’t get married until her late 30’s.  She and her husband Kirk Vredevelt have two of the cutest little people you ever laid eyes on.  Tonight on our family forum (the Wertlink) we got this picture of him holding Henry and Elizabeth.
It made me smile.
Maybe it will make you smile, too!

“. . . Blessing unto the third and fourth generations those who fear Him. . . “

We came home on Sunday to some debris, but no significant damage.   Certain Man cleaned up some, but said that the girls could help him on Monday morning.  The deck had quite abit of loose stuff on it.  And the gutters had filled up and overflowed.

Our Hybrid Thornless Honey Locust trees are especially apt to shed their branches

I had taken my flowers off the deck rail and put them on the table, so they had survived pretty well.  These branches were partly from the storm and partly what had to be cut out.

Things didn’t look quite so bad on the other side of the deck.

I came out of the side door onto the deck and heard something far over head:

If you look really, really closely, you will see a head up there near the peak of the roof.  That’s middle Daughter, manning a pruning tool, trying to cut off some troublesome limbs.  I couldn’t look at her up there without a tingling in my legs.  It looked so precarious.  But she is old enough to be her own boss, so I tried to refrain from ordering her down “this instant!”

Down on the next level, there were gutters to clean.  According to the slave labor, the debris in the gutters
smelled like “cow diarrhea”  (ew-w-w-w!!!)

It was hard, hard work, and the ledge was precarious, causing the Mama to make much noise about being careful!!!  It was great fun to make believe that maybe you were going to fall.

Certain Man has never been one to make his children do something that he isn’t willing to do, too.
The day will come when our children look back and remember a Dad who put his shoulder to the wheel no matter what the job and stayed with it until it was finished.  I can honestly say that there has never been a time when he took it easy while the kids worked.  He didn’t always work at the very same job, but if they were doing a job, he was working, too, somewhere.  Here he takes his turn at a dirty, smelly job.

 
Part of the time, he had the long pruning hook and was cutting back some limbs that were scraping the roof.  It had made a terrible noise during the storm the other night, and the racket convinced him that it needed to be done.

Youngest Daughter has been our chicken house helper for a few years now, and she can handle the tractor quite well.  Here she extends the loader so that all that stinky stuff from the buckets can be brought to the ground and dumped into the burn pit.

Back on the ground again (while Mama draws a sigh of relief), Middle Daughter
cleans the buckets so that they can be put away.

Later last night, our Nettie-girl came home from visiting her sister and swept the remaining leaves off the deck.  It has been raining off and on, so it was hard to get a picture of it in this weather.  So, these will have to do!

This was taken after todays rain.

And this was, too.
I’m so thankful that our home was spared the brunt of storm.
And my heart and prayers go out to the many people who are still without power or telephone.
According to the paper, there are quite a number.

Another Church Retreat is History!

(Ethel, my dear Friend, this is especially for you!) 
And it is not very representative of the whole time because I only took pictures on Saturday, but it will still show you some of the good times.  I forgot my camera today — missed the ballons and the pinata and Matt Deputy and his sweet wife, Jill and baby Matt — and all the good folks cleaning up.  So much that would have been priceless pictures!  But, I left camera and cell phone on the kitchen table. And there was nothing I could do about it after the fact.  So — this was —

Saturday at Church Retreat 

We played SCRABBLE!

And, Yes, I did nearly fall asleep while we waited for people to make their words! 
Here are Buckeyegirlie, Thisisloretta and Gokum.  Eldest Daughter played for a while, then Gracegiven took her place. 

Thisisloretta makes a point with the trusty SCRABBLE dictionary.

And we held the babies

Eldest Daughter and Gracegiven’s Victoria

And we played other games

Youngest Daughter’s friend Laura plays Shang-hai with the young set

And then there was the
“Wheels Parade”

These are the mistresses of the parade — Abi and Jessica

There were instructions, faithfully given

and duly received–

 
Questions asked and answered, and then the race went off as planned — But I took a video of that and I am not savvy enough to know how to put that on.  And there was not accompanying sound, so it isn’t a great thing to miss!

Emily has a three wheel bike that she can ride with skill and speed.  She is so proud of herself, and we are, too.  (It would be nice to know what she had her nose in just before this picture was taken, though.  I couldn’t identify the markings!)

And then there were prizes for the winners

and prizes for everyone who participated, as well.  It had good participation, but there were not quite as many decorated or unique wheels this time.
Faces and glimpses of the weekend

Emma

Joanna

Deborah and Caleb

Dave and Ilva

Daniel

Dave D., Chris, Deborah

Robert, Calvin, Gary, Daniel

*****

And then, there was a
Gospel Hoe-down

Raymond, Cookie and Raymond’s Brother — (How’s that for names?)
This is a casual Christian Bluegrass group that spent the evening with us.
They had some toe-tapping singing going on.
(In fact, I found Ruby Donophan dancing in the kitchen!  And I told her staid, solemn husband Dave about this development, requesting that he attend to it.  His response?
“Good for her.  Maybe she’ll give me lessons!”
What is this world coming to?

The Hughes Youngin’s joined the group for much of the program.  Here Josh and (you can’t see him) Erick, Jr. play guitar and mandolin while Rebekah sings.  Their participation was a blessing to us.

The weekend was full of RAIN, RAIN, RAIN — but there was no lack of light and love inside.  We are impressed with the facilities and the caregivers at the camp, and the weekend was an encouragement to us all.  Thanks to the committe who worked so hard, and to all the people who took their parts so willingly. 

And thank you, Lord!

It is a wet, wet night in Delaware. Somewhere out there, Youngest Son is driving his little Mazda towards Delaware. (Actually, he just called me and he is sitting still somewhere in a traffic jam six miles on the other side of the Bay Bridge.  I wonder if the cross winds are keeping them from letting people cross.  If so, it will be a LONG time before he comes chugging in.)

Tomorrow they will bury Jessica’s Grandma, Charlotte Catts. He is coming home to be here for his girl friend, Jessica (and her family), yes, but other soul things bring him home as well. I am grateful for a chance to see Youngest Son.

Our church is together for Church Retreat at a Wesleyan Campground about thirty miles away. A good group gathered tonight in spite of the weather, and we ate hamburgers made in the convection oven instead of Certain Man’s grill, and we boiled hot dogs in a big pan, too. And many of the women forgot to bring potluck picnic foods, but it all worked out. There were nearly 50 of us there.  49 if my count was right.  Tomorrow looks like alot of fun, and more friends will be joining us.  Someone needs to save me a place at the Scrabble board.  I’ve been itching for a good Scrabble game ever since the one Thisisloretta  I played a few weeks back.  She and her hubby play on the computer, and she is sharp.  And then there is gokum‘s husband who makes people fear for their lives, I am told.  Sometimes when I play with such good people, I get disheartened.  But usually the games played at church retreat are all done with brotherly love.

I need to go and get 20 pounds of hamburger out of the freezer so I can make some taco meat for tomorrow’s lunch.  The night is getting shorter and shorter.  Yet there is much to praise about.  You make your list, and I’ll make mine, but let’s remember from whom all blessings flow!

Oh, and the music on my site is from the College Church of Christ music Library, and the singers are something they call the “Harmony Boys.”  I love the site so much, I will give you the link:  http://www.collegechurchofchrist.com/library/hardingunivconcertchoir.aspx

I hope it will bless you the way it has me!

The rising wind caught one of my flower boxes and dumped my beautiful begonias on their heads under the weight of the box and the dirt.  I came home from my Mama’s house and found the chaos.  I looked at the strewn dirt and broken stems and battered flower petals.  I thought about the broken things in our lives that we have pretty much given our hearts to, and how sometimes it looks like there is nothing worth salvaging.  I wanted to cry.

And then I remembered another flower box earlier this summer that pretty much the same thing happen to it.  It wasn’t as big as this one, and maybe not as heavy.  But I put the flowers back in as best I could and gave it some careful watching.  And trusted my Heavenly Father.  It grew back as pretty as ever.  I probably couldn’t tell you if I had to which one had suffered the trauma. 

So I picked up these plants as carefully as possible, and laid them up on the table.  I reassembled the planter and carefully replanted the flowers and dirt and added some fresh dirt.   There is a storm moving in tonight, and after that is over, I will snip and reshape and see what happens.  The plants are healthy, just injured.  Maybe Autumn will bear new flowers.

“. . . If He carried the weight of the world upon His shoulders, I know my brother that He will carry you.

If He carried the weight of the world upon His shoulders, I know, my sister, that He will carry you . . .”

(By the way — a new song is playing)

Discipleship

I gave up myself;
You gave me
Yourself
And Love, like I never
Have known.
And now, though my heart
Has learned of
Your Cross,
I know I’ll not travel
Alone.
Though disciplined now,
I’ve found in
Your Cross
The freedom my heart long
Has sought.
Not license for
Pleasure or
“Guaranteed Rights,”
But Power to be as
I ought.

          It was the hottest day of the year.
         The Yoder sisters and some of their offspringin’s and some of their friends were doing corn.
         Eldest Son had been working in the scorching sun until he was almost wobbling, and had come home and gone to the shower and was now hanging around the action without getting his hands dirty.
          “Uh, Mama,” he said hesitantly. I looked in his direction, not really able to think much beyond what was at hand. (Namely an unnecessarily large amount of corn. Maybe he wanted to help.) (Ha, ha!!!)

         “Uh, Mama. I’ve been thinking. I just might do something life changing.”
          This was certainly a most fractious time to be talking about life changing events. Maybe he was trying to catch me off guard. “Oh, no.” I thought bleakly. ” Maybe –“
          “Son! Are you going to get an earring????”
          “No, Mama. More life changing than that!”
          “You’re not getting a tattoo are you?” (I had temporarily forgotten that he hates tattoos).
          There was an instant “No, Mama. Not an earring. Not a tattoo. More life changing than any of those.”

          I looked up momentarily at this tall son, and then back at the bowl in front of me. A big fan was moving the hot July air in patterns that weren’t helping much, and my hands were sticky. I was weary beyond all reason, and was really not having many original inspirations. I had not the slightest idea of what he was going to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to know what he was going to do. I hadn’t been hearing much about the motorcycle here of late, and he wasn’t dating anyone. He didn’t want to go to college. What was there left to do that would be life changing?

          He took advantage of my silence by saying, “I am thinking of going into REACH.”

          There was immediate response from various family members around the work site. Much affirmation, much joy. Much surprise. I could see that his eyes were searching my face for some clue as to what I was thinking. What was I thinking? I hardly knew myself. Mostly a sense of joy, though, was permeating my very soul. It has been my prayer for a good while now that this Eldest Son would find his “Life Passion” (as Youngest Son calls it). I was surprised, but not unduly. I knew that ever since his grandpa had died, his grandma had been filling in the gap with daily prayers for the future of her grandchildren, and that she had spent many a prayer and many a tear on this particular offspringin’.

          It is many papers, many letters, and many, many prayers later. But not nearly enough days.

          This morning he left for his three month training session in Columbus. Following that, if plans carry, he is going to Nepal for six months.

          This morning, several minutes after six o’clock, we stood in the kitchen. He hates good-byes almost as much as I do. He took me in his strong arms, and bent over just enough to kiss my forehead.

          “Good-bye, Mama.”

          “Good-bye, Son. Be a Man. Remember, we don’t know how soon The Morning.”

          He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

          “I mean that we do not know when we’re going to Heaven. We don’t know how soon The Morning. Be a Faithful disciple.”

          “You got it, Mama. I will!”

           And then, he was gone. How well will he remember? It is not for me to worry about, but his Daddy and I will pray that he will be strong, that he will be faithful, that he will live with a constant awareness of the Presence of Jesus, that he will show the way to Life by how he lives.

          He’s our Gentle Giant, and we shall miss him so very much, but it feels so right.

          Be strong, My Son. Be Faithful. We do not know how soon The Morning.

          I love you!

Certain Man’s Wife and snakes are best separated by a long distance. She does not like them. In fact, she cannot even think of them as “useful” in her most optimistic moments. There is a good reason for this. Whenever the subject of snakes comes up, it so happens that she is reminded of one of her lesser “shining” moments of parenting.

Back in the late seventies, Certain Man and Certain Man’s Wife were foster parents to three boys. Zion was ten, Blandon was four and David was two. (All unrelated. Zion was white, Blandon was bi-racial and David was black.) They also had two little girls of their own — Eldest Daughter was four and Middle Daughter who was a very wee girlie. That made the number of youngin’s five, and quite honestly, for the most part, things went pretty smoothly.

“For the most part, I said. The middle foster child, Blandon, had been abused and had life pretty tough. The only thing was, the longer he was in the home of CM and CMW, the more sympathy CMW had for his poor mother. She would never have been abusive to him, knowing what he had been through, but there were days when CMW thought dismally that, if she had been his mother, and not had the resources for life and help that were available to her, she might have pulled his hair out in patches, too. He was a beautiful child, but he was so naughty. And he lied and lied and lied and lied. The one thing that was helpful was that whenever he lied, he would pull his mouth around his teeth into this wide-eyed, surprised kind of look, and that was pretty much a clue for CMW to not believe whatever wild tale was forthcoming. (Tell-tale face)

On one particular morning, CMW was busy with household things, cleaning and such, and Blandon and Eldest Daughter were playing outside. They pretty much knew their boundaries, so CMW wasn’t surprised to see them running around the front side of the house and having themselves a grand old time. Suddenly, Blandon was in the house, with Eldest Daughter trotting on behind.

“Mom! We saw a snake out there!” Puffed Blandon. (Tell-tale face)

“You what?”

“We saw a snake outside. It really was a snake.” (TTF)

“Blandon, are you sure?”

“Yep, we both saw it, didn’t we, Christy?”

Eldest Daughter was markedly lacking in proper frantic actions, but she nodded assent. “Yeah, we saw a snake out there.”

“Yep, we really did, Mom. It was really, really big! It was this long!!!” And he made a motion about as far as his hands could go (followed by his tell-tale face).

“Listen, Blandon. I don’t even want to hear it. There was no snake out there.”

“Yes, there was! There really was a snake!” (TTF)

Eldest Daughter nodded her head beside him.

“Where was it, Christina?”

“I don’t know, Mama.”

“Blandon, where was this snake?”

“Well, it was outside somewhere, I’m not sure, but we saw it, and it really was a snake!” (TTF)

CMW was feeling pretty impatient with him by now. She had lived in Ohio for almost ten years, and really doesn’t think she had ever seen a snake in any of her yards during that time.

“Blandon, you need to tell the truth. Why do you always lie to me? Christy are you SURE you guys saw a snake?”

By this time Eldest Daughter was beginning to recant. Since then she has protested that CMW always thought that she wasn’t telling the truth so that sometimes she would lie just to get done with the inquisition. CMW resents that accusation. She does not think she did this, but out of fairness to Eldest Daughter, this bit of history needs to be included because Eldest Daughter was definitely distancing herself from Blandon about now and coming around to pretty much saying that she wasn’t sure.

“I’m not sure, Mama. Maybe we didn’t see a snake.”

“Yes, we did. We saw a snake! It was a great BIG snake!”

CMW decided that she had just about had enough.

“Blandon. That’s enough. You go back to your room and sit on your bed until you can tell the truth.”

“Mom –!”

“Blandon!” Said CMW, sternly. “That’s enough! Now go!”

He trudged back the hall to his room, and Eldest Daughter began playing on the living room floor. CMW tried to think what she had been doing, and found it hard to collect her thoughts. She noticed what time it was and thought that probably the mail had gone, and so decided to make a quick trip to the mail box.

“Christy, I am going to run get the mail,” she told Eldest Daughter. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Mama. I’ll be alright.”

CMW opened the front door and stepped out into the sunshine. It was a cool morning, but the sun was shining on the front stoop and the cement blocks beside the front door. She took a step over the ledge –.

And almost put her foot down on a SNAKE!

It was sunning itself in the morning sun that was streaming down in front of the little gray house. She looked down and was so surprised she could have gone sprawling. (Knowing her recent history, it is surprising she didn’t!) She looked down at that critter and wished with all her might that she wasn’t seeing what she was seeing. (Why did God put that snake right there???)

CMW poked her head back into the house. “Blandon. Come here!”

He came out, probably wondering what accusations would be hurled at him now.

“Blandon. Is this the snake you saw?”

“Yes, that’s it. Yes, Mom, that’s it. That’s IT!!!”

CMW looked at that little garter snake and thought many self-justifying thoughts. It wasn’t great big. It was very, very small. But in her heart, she knew that she hadn’t been fair to one little boy, either. So she duly apologized and set him free from his confinement and went to get the mail. She did not disturb that snake. It had caused enough trouble for one day. If it wanted to sit on the front stoop and sun himself, that was alright by her. She had better things to do than chase a harmless garter snake. And she was getting on with them right away!

(New Music)

It’s the first day of school. 
Along the fence row, my roses are bravely blooming and behind them, the Crepe Myrtle is showing off.
How did this summer pass so swiftly? 
Did I get anything important done this summer???

Rachel isn’t really ready for school to start, but she had a great summer. 
I am quite sure that no other child of ours
did so much,
traveled so many miles
or had so much fun
as she did this summer.

Against the almost autumn eastern sky, she awaits the big yellow beast that is due any minute.
Ah, my Rachel-girl.  As quickly as the summer has flown by, it seems as if your life is slipping by with a speed that almost takes my breath away.  Before I know it, you will be all grown up.  I used to complain that I was “running out of baby” . . .   Today I lament that I am running out of TIME.