Delaware Grammy

If you have a kid at Choral Camp, this is the link to download the Choral Camp Daily newspaper.  It takes some time to download, but I think you’ll enjoy the daily contact.  It is usually not available until after 8 or 9 in the evening.  (I miss my Rachel-girl!)

http://www.rosedalebible.org/ccamp/record.html

If you have your speakers on, you will hear the Harding University Concert Choir singing “Safe in the arms of Jesus.”  I always thought about that song as being about Heaven, and being safely Home, but if you think about the words, it is a word for us today.  It is a place to run to in these uncertain times. 

President Kennedy once said in a speech in the early sixties, “We are living in perilous times…”  (I was 10 when he was assassinated, so I was pretty young when he made this speech.)  I remember an evangelist using President Kennedy’s words as a sermon text at our little country church, and shivering on the bench as I rolled those words over and over in my head.  The end of time felt so imminent.

I’ve been thinking alot about “perilous times” in these days of flood and earthquake and war.  I look into the faces of our children, now young adults, and think about the world they will live their lives in and pray that they will understand that there is a safe place for them in the Arms of Jesus.

The good news is this:  His arms are big enough to hold us all.

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on his gentle breast,
There by his love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.
Hark! ’tis the voice of angels,
Borne in a song to me,
Over the fields of glory,
Over the crystal sea.

Refrain:
Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on his gentle breast
There by his love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world’s temptations,
Sin cannot harm me there.
Free from the blight of sorrow,
Free from my doubts and fears;
Only a few more trials,
Only a few more tears!
Refrain

Jesus, my heart’s dear refuge,
Jesus has died for me;
Firm on the Rock of ages,
Ever my trust shall be.
Here let me wait with patience,
Wait till the night is over;
Wait till I see the morning
Break on the golden shore.
Refrain

Fanny Crosby

Last night, Middle Daughter came in and said, “We’ve got the happiest laundry in the neighborhood!”  That made me laugh, because it really wasn’t laundry at all.  The sacks from the sack races on Tuesday had gotten wet in the storm.  For some reason, there is a tag on them that says specifically, “DO NOT WASH” so I hung them out in the beautiful afternoon to air out and dry before I stored them back in their box. 

One of the things Daddy did each summer was raise pole limas.  I remember as a little girl, that there was this patch of ground between the garage and the old flat roofed chicken house that was dedicated to these plants.  We kids shelled beans, and shelled beans and shelled beans!  I only realized recently that Mama really didn’t much care for them, but she can make the best pot of tender green lima beans anywhere.  

Certain Man has not ever dabbled in growing lima beans.  There was never a real need to, and he didn’t think this was his territory.  Youngest Brother is growing the usual huge patch of lima beans this year out by Mama’s house beside the Country Rest Home, and things are coming along well, but I begged Certain Man for just one row of lima beans this year “to see how they do” and he was sympathetic to my request.  So, we have one little row of lima beans in our garden, and they have little tiny beans on them!

 

With all the rain this week, Certain Man hasn’t gotten in to do his timely weeding. 
(If you look, you can see where the rain washed down this row.) 

He said, “Look at those WEEDS!!!” when I showed him this picture. 

I asked if he cared if I put it on, and he said, “Nah!  Go ahead!”

(So I did!)

 

 

  

     

 It was a HOT day! 

 

 

So we made a picnic, and built a fire and made it hotter!

And people helped and people stacked their hamburgers and hotdogs and ate!

Going through the line

 

Kent stands with Chef J.R.                        People going through the food line

Little people at the table.                         James and Karen

Rachel fixes her hamburger                             Loretta, April and Karen

       

Sometimes a gal needs some space                               Mike attacks the food table.

The crabs were unexpected — but a wonderful blessing.  Freeman Beachy had gone crabbing in the early morning hours and had quite a successful haul!  Almost two bushels of beautiful crabs!  His lovely wife, Loretta, called and asked if it would be an inconvenience if he would bring them, cook them and share them with our chuch.  INCONVENIENT???? Oh, my word!  He must have realized that there are people in this church who would give up eating almost anything for the chance to eat crabbs!  (I knew immediately that we wouldn’t need as many hamburgers and hotdogs!)  And wouldn’t you know, I thought I had a picture of Freeman and Loretta and their Crab Cooking operation, but somehow I missed it!   But here are some Crab EATING pictures —

 

The Crab table, where people could come and select    Tim and Carmen help themselves

 

“They’re really glorified water bugs”           “Who Cares?”

 

Uncle Johnny can do a number on these babies!  At 82, he is champion at getting out crab!

Our neighbor, Nancy, is housebound with rheumatoic Arthritis.  Here her husband, Larry, packs up a few crabs to take home to her.  She is extraordinarily fond of crab, so these were a special blessing to her.

Because it was so hot, there was lots of just lounging around.  The Relays didn’t start until after supper.

 

Val talks to Dave and Ruby                 

Ethan sits in the shade                              Caleb and Kaleb discuss nicknames

“The shade keeps moving around!”                 Evanna and Lindy talk on the front side of the garage

Trees and shade were pretty much the order for the day!

 

The Hammock Girls — Holly, Jessica and Abby

 

Here are Polly and Donna and Dale.  For your information, since inquiring minds want to know, that is MR.JONES EXPRESS HIMSELF
waving in the background.  He is the maker of the little train that brings so much joy to so many people.  He builds and maintains the little cars.  They get rented out for various community activities.  I think the little train has been a part of almost every significant event at Shady Acres for years.  (He is quite camera shy — this is the best picture I got of him all day, despite repeated attempts.)

 

  

What fun when Jesse made the train go in a circle!

You have to have Bubbles at a picnic!

  

Gracie and Salome           She sure knows how to work that machine!!!

     

Big sisters to twirl you round and round. . . . . . . .  And swings to get onto — if you can!!!

And a hundred water balloons were filled by hot, sweaty young folks

  

Caleb and Josh and Dale pretty much handled the filling, while Lori supervised and tied them shut.

And then there were the relays

  

Relays need people to watch — so this is what these people are doing!

Sack Races before Water relays

 

The young one race

      

A storm is moving in, and they need to hurry!  Matthew totes his sack!

 

Oh, pass the sponge from me to you, to you.  Oh, pass the sponge and do just what I do!

 

Hurry, hurry, we need to win!  And the storm is coming!  We need to hurry!

Oh, hurry up!!!  It’s okay to get wet!!!

And the winners get a prize from the candy box!

By now, the storm was really moving in.  We needed to hurry and crank the ice cream if we were going to get it done before the rain.

 

Mike takes his turn at the crank, Jesse and Caleb work on two more freezers while Katie holds the first one down.  If you look, you can see the clouds in the back ground, and minutes later, this is what happened:

A sudden squall caught the canopy and tore it loose and blew it sideways.  People leaped to hold it fast and the strong arms wrestled it to the ground.  No one was seriously injured, but the storm was definitely coming!

  

So the whole crew scattered, and picked up trash and took down the picnic tables and brought everything under cover while the three freezers of ice cream were successfully finished.  Then everyone crowded into the garage and the house and ate ice cream while we watched the terrible storm.

 

   

 

And the kids got wet —

  

And eventually, TIRED. . .

 

And the rain stopped, so people meandered on home. 

What a day!  Never has there been so much help to clean up the outside and never, ever was it accomplished in so short a time.  People just did whatever their hands found to do and they did it with all their might. Thanks, Everyone!

And yes, the house was a wreck, and there was mud on the floor, but it was worth every single minute.

 

 

Yes, I took lots of pictures —

Yes, we had lots of fun.

And Yes, there is a story to tell.

But it is Wednesday, and I always (at least I try to always) go to Mama’s on Wednesday.  So pictures and stories will have to wait for another time.

And regarding Youngest Son’s comment on the last posting:

The music on the this site is a very old song.  When I was a little girl, a high school girl came into our school mid-term one year.  Her daddy had died, and she and her siblings were staying with relatives temporarily.  She had a great voice, and I can remember her sitting on the bus, tears in her eyes, singing this particular song.  I couldn’t find it sung anywhere, but I did find the music.  It goes with the train of thought that has been rolling around in my heart.

How far is Heaven? When can I go?
To see my Daddy.  Here’s there, I know.
How far is Heaven?  Let’s go tonight.
I want my Daddy to hold me tight.

(written by Tillman Franks and Jimmie Davis )

COMING UP tomorrow!

Laws Mennonite Church’s

 Annual 4th of July picnic

 at Shady Acres!

If you’d like to be with us, we’d love to have you!

Come anytime after 2:00 for games and relays and riding the Jones Express.  Young ones, (and old ones, too) bring favorite water ammunitions (squirt guns and such) and if getting wet bothers you, a change of clothes.  There has been interest expressed in a horseshoe tournament, so if you are interested in that, see Josh Slaubaugh.    We will plan to eat at 5:00 PM.  Hot Dogs and hamburgers will be provided as will paper products. Bring potluck picnic foods, favorite outdoor games and lawn chairs. 

This evening was the summer office picnic for the people who work with Certain Man at Public Health.  There were not very many people who could make it, but it was a really neat group of people, and the nice thing was that the group of people who were here were friends.

The rain this week had done wonders for the flower beds.

     

On the left is one of our side gardens, the right is a corner of our patio.

Jhe “Jones Express” was running, to the great delilght of the children:

 

Youngest Daughter had the pleasure of driving the lawn tractor.
(She really isn’t grouchy.  The sun was in her eyes.)

This is what came after.  Danielle, Jeron, Justin, and Mitch.

There were bikes to careen about, with little brothers braving the ride.
(Rachel was babysitting Justin and Jeron for the evening, so they got to be a part of things, too.)

 

Danielle always looks for the climbing tree.

 

 

And interesting things happen when you put bubble makin’s into the bird fountain.  (We should have really clean blackbirds, don’t you think?)

   

My Sweet Mama came, and brought her famous Chocolate Sheet cake.
(Everyone’s favorite!)

 

Joyce, Donna and Darlene discuss public health headaches. 
(Seriously, they were!!!) 

Certain Man talks to Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in Law.
It was so nice to have them join us. 
They both helped out in numerous and necessary ways.

And then there was Ice Cream to crank!

 

Beth takes her turn.

 

Certain Man pokes down the ice while Beth’s husband, (the other Daniel) takes his turn at the crank

 

The children love to help.  Jeron makes me laugh to watch him. He cranks in an almost languid fashion, which is most unusual for this little guy!

 Here, Danielle gets herself set up to churn away. and as the ice cream starts to harden, she finds that she needs a little assistance.

 
Here she almost strains her gizzard to move the crank.

 

So, Justin tried the crank —  

And Lawson turned the crank (As did all the males present.)

And slowly and surely, the icecream got harder and harder.  Everyone had what they needed, and there was some even left over. 

All to soon, it was time for everyone to go home. Certain Man, Beloved Son in Law and Eldest Daughter helped pick up things and put stuff away.  Certain Man did not stop until he was satisfied with how things  were done, and the cars were back in the garage.  It was a sweet day!

Thank-you, dear friends for coming to share an evening with us

  Morning Prayer Journal   

      My heart is sick of the gods that raise their heads in my heart —  clamoring for time and attention.
     And I, so bedazzled by their noise and show and promise of satisfaction, hasten to give them room and board and honor.  Trying always, Lord Jesus, to keep you first, but finding out the crumbs that are left after feeding all these paltry gods are nothing fit for a King.
     Nothing satisfies for long, and my heart looks within and sees a once fine altar, ground there to sawdust, and weeps.
     All the excuses clang hollowly against the broken bell of liberty.  Where has my freedom gone?
     I say that life, particularly the losses of this last year, has changed me.  I never meant for it to be this way.  I hasten to say that  I’ve always wanted to be changed — by YOU, Heavenly Father, more and more into the image of your dear Son.  Instead, I find that the events of my life — which could have been used to make me more like you, have made me numb instead.  So numb that I almost cannot hear your voice.  So numb, I hardly know who I am. 
     And in that numbness, the mini gods of food and self-pity and sleep and Xanga have stormed the gates of my heart.  And WON.  Oh, Lord Jesus, they’ve won. 
     They have marched in with their foot soldiers of greed and laziness and impatience and indifference and jealousy and suspicion and a deep sadness and they’ve set up their camp and mapped out their strategy and they’ve commandeered my heart.
     . . .  And because of the grief also tabernacled there, I’ve had neither energy or will to fight.
     I cannot just blame the grief, Dear Father.  I’ve made wrong choices, too, given over strongholds without resisting, watching quietly while battles were lost.
     I confess there are situations that I don’t know what to do with.  And I know there are no easy answers.  But I also know that there is not a single situation that can be helped by my allegiance to these self-indulging gods and their devastatingly aggressive foot soldiers.
     And so, I choose you.  Once again, Dear Father, I bring you the sawdust of my heart, asking that you build anew the throne that is rightfully yours.  Take these things that can be so good, and let them have their rightful places so that you can reign supreme.  You are God, because you ARE.  May you be LORD in my life because my heart bows before your rightful place.

Well, I’ve been ordered to tell all — So here goes.   

Lucy, Miss Brooks and Dominie have a traveling shirt. We’ve seen it often upon their respective bodies in long ago posts.  And Lucy had it last and was supposed to send it back to Dominie.  Then one day I got this letter:

Now playing:  Harmony Boys Quartet:  Mansion over the Hilltop

 

This posts is directed to my friend, Lucy, in Iowa —

I am so perplexed, Lucy of Iowa — It seems that there is a shirt being passed around out there that is similar to one I have here.  Didn’t you say that this was one of a kind?  I found it a couple weeks ago, and there has been so much going on that I didn’t get to post pictures of it until now.  Is this a “Sister” shirt, or what?  It truly won its way to my house because of the similarity between it and the one in the pictures you have posted.  (I am not usually a “buyer of t-shirts” at Salvation Army, Milford.)  This one has to be from the same manufacturer.  I included a close-up of the tag.  I’m not sure how clear it is, but maybe you can decipher if it is the same one.  By the way, did you ever send yours back to Dominie???  Or are you still hoarding it for your own comfort?

 

 

 

This is the tag —