Brethren who pray, if I know anything of a Christian's heart, you are often sick of your own prayers. You never enter into the apostle's words, "When I would do good, evil is present with me." so thoroughly as you sometimes do upon your knees. You can understand David's words, "I hate vain thoughts." You can sympathize with that poor converted Hottentot who was overheard praying, "Lord, deliver me from all my enemies, and above all, from that bad man-myself." There are few children of God who do not often find the season of prayer a season of conflict. The devil has special wrath against us when he sees us on our knees. Yet, I believe that prayers which cost us no trouble, should be regarded with great suspicion. I believe we are very poor judges of the goodness of our prayers, and that the prayer which pleases us least, often pleases God most. Suffer me then, as a companion in the Christian warfare, to offer a few words of exhortation. One thing, at least, we all feel: we must pray. We cannot give it up. We must go on.

J. C. Ryle
A Call to Prayer

The babies look almost like their mother now.  Soon, they will fly away. 

I've called this big guy Baby Huey because he's always on top of the other ones who are smooshed and crunched into the bottom of the nest.  Can you see the three beaks in a semi-circle in the front of the nest?

So, yesterday morning we had a violent spring storm.   You know the kind; high winds, black sky, horizonal trees--amazingly rapid onset, wild and brief.  Must've been around 10:30. 

We lost and regained electricity multiple times in a very short period of time.  As soon as I realized the storm was here, I tried valiently to shut the computers down before it hit.  It was during shut down that the on again, off again power surges happened, so I am happy to even have a computer that works this morning.  (After various disc checks and reboots and alarmingly scary Microsoft error messages, everything SEEMS to be working except my active desktop.  I still can't get past the Active Desktop Recovery page.)

Back to my story.  So we lost electricity, but we didn't think too much about it.  That happens.  Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.  It got hot and humid.  Tom came home about 3:00 because they'd lost power at work, too.  We fooled around all afternoon without electricity.  

It was strange.  So many things I wanted needed to do.  Just regular Friday stuff like laundry and vacuuming.  I was going to shampoo the rug on the front porch.  Couldn't use my light board.  Couldn't download the birdy videos I took before the storm.  Couldn't work on the Sunday bulletin or type up my Sunday School lesson.

So I read.   And listened to Deathly Hallows on my iPod.  And cleaned the bathroom.  And wasted time.  And called ComEd for updates about when the power would be restored.

By 5:00, we decided we better go to the store and pick up something to throw on the grill for supper.  By 6:30 we decided we better do something about the food in the refrigerators and freezers, so out came the chest coolers and ice.  We packed all the frozen stuff into the big chest freezer and crossed our fingers.

We played Nertz by the light of the oil lamps.  We all sat around together and talked about the places we've lived and all the other times we've been without electricity.  We reminised and told stories and called ComEd.   Floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, Nor'Easters, blizzards.  They were all discussed.

Around 8:00, the ComEd recording estimated that power would be restored to our town by May 31st, 5 pm.  A more specific recording based on our street address told us we could have power by 11:50 pm.

And so we started the Father Time game.  This is a family estimating game, usually played in the car on the way home from a long drive.  Sometimes we estimate how long until the pizza arrives or how long Jake will take in the shower.  Tom always wins, usually within a few minutes of his estimate.

I, being the most upbeat and optomistic, said the power would be on by 9:07.  Tom said 10:42.  Sam claimed all the minutes in the 10:40ish range.  Jake, our pessimist, said 11:20.

By 10:30 we had talked ourselves out.   There was nothing else to do except blow out the lanterns and candles and go to bed, which we did.

The power came back at precisely 11:20.  Jake now holds the title of Father Time. 

 

Many thanks to Karen and the Texas Oncologists for raising the awareness and providing a forum for questions to be asked and answers to be given!

you'll probably remember this:


(I woke up to the sound of rain and this song in my head. . .)

 

I have always been awed by architecture, particularly the architecture of the great Cathedrals of Europe.  I have never forgotten how immensely diminished I felt as I stood in the great Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris.  The disparate sensations of feeling weighed down by the great weight of stone above and yet spiritually lifted into the heavenlies surpasses description.

It's been thirty-five years since I first experienced what R. C. Sproul describes as "the threshold experience:"

A threshold is a place of transition.  It signals a change from one realm to another.

R. C. Sproul, The Holiness of God

Today's photo transported me back to that cherished memory.  Instead of ripping off my first impressions in less than 5 minutes, which is my usual approach to this project, this week I wanted to explore the Scottish cathedral that housed this shining, living stone:

THE BLACADER (or BLACKADDER) AISLE

This aisle, probably intended as an undercroft for a chapel above, is said to occupy the site of the cemetery consecrated at the beginning of the 5th century by St. Ninian.

When I discovered that this luminescent, alabaster aisle was built upon the site of a cemetry, images and words filled my mind, making sense of my response and bringing into focus my "threshold experience" with this image.

These shining columns, reaching from the grave to the sky, brought images of Christ's transfiguration, His resurrection, His ascension; the raising of Lazarus, and our union with Christ in His death and resurrection. 

The cross on the vaulted ceiling, banding the outstretched columns together reminded me of the power that holds all things together, both in heaven and on earth. 

Celum et terra.  On earth as it is in Heaven. 

More In 15  Words or Less Poems at laurasalas.

Today I felt creative.  I wanted to make something new for lunch, so I scrounged around in the fridge looking for interesting stuff.

Here's what I pulled out:
leftover diced onion
a jar of diced garlic
butter
about a half cup of broccoli
a container of shredded parmesean
a container of those cute little mozzarella balls in water
some hard salami 

Here's what I pulled out and put back:
capers (I decided I didn't want them since I couldn't find any sun dried tomatoes)
roasted red pepper strips (past their prime--they got tossed)

Then I poked around in the cupboard.

Here's what I pulled out:
pecans
walnuts
basil fettucini 

Here's what I put back:
pecans and walnuts (because what I really wanted was pine nuts) 

Here's what I came up with:

Hard Salami and Fettucini Toss

Put water on to boil. 

Sweat onions and garlic in 1 T. butter and 1 T. olive oil for a few minutes.

In the mean time, cut sliced salami into strips and separate them.  Then brown them in another pan until fat is rendered and they are getting crispy.  Drain on paper towels and set aside. 

Add about a 1/4 c. chicken broth and 1/4 c. dry vermouth to onions and garlic. Turn down very low and let it reduce while the pasta water comes to a boil.  Oh, add broccoli now.  And crushed red pepper to taste.

Cook the pasta according to the package, only drain when it still has about 2 minutes to go. (I had basil fettucini on hand but you could use any noodle-y pasta) Don't rinse.  Add to the vegetable/broth pan and cover. It'll finish cooking in this pan and will thicken the dish at the same time.)

After two minutes, move the pasta mixture to a large bowl,  then toss in about five or six mozzarella balls, (cut into fourths) a large handful of shredded parmesean, and the salami.  Toss together quickly and serve, topped with a mixture of freshly chopped chives and parsley if you have some on hand.

No pictures.  We ate it all.  It was yummy. 

 

The quality of these photos leave a lot to be desired--after all, I am shooting through a dirty window and then cropping them in order to zero in on the nest.  But you get the idea. . .

 

 

The peeps are getting feisty!  Mama keeps trying to settle her great, feathery bulk over them but they keep popping up around the edges!  I actually saw her push one little sassy head back under with her birdy foot!

I've rearranged the furniture on the porch so that I can sidle up as closely as I can to the window to take pictures.  I'm hoping to get a picture of her feeding them soon!

In the meantime, other than nest spying, I'm getting very little else done today.  

More later. 

It's 40 degrees outside and 56 degrees inside this morning.

I am NOT turning on the furnace. 

Less than three weeks to go!

I haven't been this excited since our own youngest, Sam, was born!  "I can't wait" is a phrase that has been firmly ensconced in my conversations for many months now.  I'm sure my friends are tired of hearing it!

I can't wait until my "I can't wait" goes from "I can't wait until our grandson is born" to "I can't wait to share the good news and some pictures of our new little grandson!"  Heartstrings are firmly attached already.  Soon he will be tugging them.

Random musings on a sunny, Sunday morning: 

I haven't seen my trifocals for over a week now.  I wasn't too worried when they were first missing because I misplace them all the time.  I was pretty sure they were in the house somewhere and figured they'd turn up in the linen closet or under a chair or some other strange place but I'm beginning to think I've lost them.  I'm good at losing things.  If I lose my bifocals, I am sunk.

Mama Bird is busily feeding her babes.  Papa Bird is an ever present presence in the yard now.  One of them swooped me when I was weeding under the nesting tree yesterday.  I'm thinking it must have been Papa because Mama isn't particularly bothered by me.  Here she is this morning, sitting on her fuzzy gray chicks.  (I peeked in the nest while she was out pulling worms but by the time I came back with my camera, she was back on the nest) As you can tell by the movement of the camera, Papa wasn't nearly as tolerant of my intrusion into the privacy of his family. 

 

I (well, Tom) made a new bed for my shasta daisies yesterday.  They weren't thriving beside the sidewalk where they've been for the past two summers.  I think they don't like all the snow piled atop them during the winter.  Hopefully, they'll like the new digs better.

 

See these?  They're not weeds!  They are tiny lavendar plants.  I'm going to leave them alone for a while and then transplant them when they get a little bigger.

 

The spiderwort is just starting to bloom this morning. 

 

The girls like to sleep on the porch in the mornings.  It's like a green house with the sun streaming in the windows.

 

I forgot about this picture I took of the cloud formations on Friday evening.  Don't they look like cotton candy? 

 

We got a new super duper printer for my business yesterday so this afternoon we'll be re-arranging the whole office to accomodate this new piece of equipment.  It always makes me nervous to mess around with the computer cables and cords.  If you don't hear from me, you'll know why. . . 

I need to go get ready for church now!  Have a wonderful Lord's Day! 

Praise the Saviour 

Praise the Saviour now and ever;
Praise him all beneath the skies;
Prostrate lying, suffering, dying
On the cross, a sacrifice.
Victory gaining, life obtaining,
Now in glory he doth rise.

Man's work faileth, Christ's availeth;
He is all our righteousness;
He, our Saviour, has for ever
Set us free from dire distress.
Through his merit we inherit
Light and peace and happiness.

Sin's bonds severed; we're delivered;
Christ has bruised the serpent's head;
Death no longer is the stronger;
Hell itself is captive led.
Christ has risen from death's prison;
O'er the tomb he light has shed.

For his favor, praise for ever
Unto God the Father sing;
Praise the Saviour, praise him ever,
Son of God, our Lord and King.
Praise the Spirit; through Christ's merit,
He doth us salvation bring.

Trinity Hymnal #174 

For it is certain that we must teach ourselves how to make beautiful things, and must have some notion of the aim and bent of our work, what we seek and what we do.

Edward Johnston
Writing and Illuminating and Lettering 

This week's quote comes from a very special book--one that is special to me for several reasons. 

Most of you know my dear blogging friend, Ellen, The Happy Wonderer.  Ellen is one of the most encouraging, uplifting people I have ever met online.  If you know her, you know that she is and amazing thrift shopper.  Her "finds" are legendary.  And if you know her, you also know that she takes time to get to know people. 

This week I was the delighted beneficiary of her thoughtfulness and her shopping acumen.  Ellen was browsing the used books offered at her local library and came across two great calligraphy books and she thought of me.  Not only did she think of me, she took photos of the books (inside and out!) and put them on hold in case I wanted them.  And did I ever! 

I  have always loved old books and have always wanted a copy of Edward Johnston's classic, "Writing and Illuminating and Lettering" so I was delighted to have the opportunity to snag an old copy of it.  This book was published in 1906 and is the quintessential calligraphy resource.  My own is a tenth edition, printed in 1918.  It has clearly been re-bound at some point.  The pages are yellowed and a little fragile.  Just opening the book gave me a sense of history and wonderment about the other calligraphers who have read this book and been influenced by it.

A little about the author:  Edward Johnston single-handedly brought back the modern interest in calligraphy during the Arts and Crafts movement in England at the end of the 19th century.  He was the developer of my favorite hand, the Foundational Hand, based on the Ramsay Psalter, a manuscript from the late 900's.  It is the calligrapher's bread and butter hand.  In my opinion, if you get Johnston's foundational hand down pat, you're way ahead of the game. 

This is the ultimate "how to" book.  Four hundred eighty-seven pages in length, this book is truly a treatise on the art and craft of calligraphy.  He writes about the full range of topics from tools to technique, to application of color and guilding; to bookmaking and illumination, to alphabets and their development, however, there are very few pictures and examples.  I've only read the editor's and artist's preface so far and can't wait to wade in to its deep waters.

Thank you, Ellen.

(I'll share a little bit about the other book she snagged for me soon!) 

. . .and check out the first installment of answers to your questions about women and cancer. Thank you, Karen, for making this available to your readers and ours! Thanks, too, to the generous physicians who are donating their time to make this possible!

Mama is not happy with me. . .  

Revelation

Standing, garbed in recent past,
Mossy mantle,  cloaked and veiled;
The secret history of trees.

 

More In 15  Words or Less Poems at laurasalas.

 

You think I would learn, but alas, I never do.

Last year I was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have my camera with me when I saw a couple of geese out taking a walk across the road with 22 goslings in tow.

Last night, we were taking a quick run to Wal-Mart for some garden soil and we saw the funniest thing:  another couple of Canada geese crossing the road with babies.  What made this one funny is that they had crossed one lane and were all gathered together in a turn lane waiting for the traffic to clear so they could complete their cross to the other side.  The babies were gathered tightly under the parents' feet.  The cautious parents were turning their heads this way and that, sizing up the situation.  Oh, I'd LOVE to have a video of that scene! 

 

Either my vocabulary is slipping or the Dictionary Word of the Day is getting more obscure.  I haven't had this many "new words" in a long time!  It comes at a good time, though, because I haven't had much time to fit blogging into my day lately.  Here's another new one to me:

1. Potemkin village \puh-TEM(P)-kin\, noun:
   An impressive facade or display that hides an undesirable fact or state; a false front.
2. A Potemkin village is so called after Grigori Aleksandrovich Potemkin, who had elaborate fake villages built in order to impress Catherine the Great on her tours of the Ukraine and the Crimea in the 18th century.

In the last few days, I have learned about four churches--all with impressive buildings, exciting programs, and growing congregations--that are imploding.  They look good on the outside, but inside things are not at all what they seem.  Interestingly, they have been from very diverse denominational/theological backgrounds but the types of facades are so similar, as are the types of failures and sins that have brought them crashing down, or at least shaking on their foundations.

Potemkin was, reportedly, erecting false fronts to impress a Sovereign, Catherine the Great.  If you read the Wikipedia article, it seems he wasn't fooling anyone.

This morning, thinking about the Potemkin churches, I wonder.  Were the facades built for man or for God?  It seems that men can easily be fooled--both the men who are constructing the Potemkin churches and those who are attending them.  But just as we can be falsely impressed by the outward appearance, we can be wrongly discouraged when we see behind the false fronts.  God is shaking them; He will reveal their foundations.  Our job is to offer God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe and not refuse Him who is speaking when He warns. 

25 See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. 26 At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” 27 This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. 28 Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, 29 for our God is a consuming fire.

HT: Reformation Theology

Not, 'What will you do with Jesus?'; rather, 'What will Christ do with you?'
James White and Alpha and Omega Ministries