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Sunday, January 31, 2010

Life Goes On

It's hardly fair, I say, I say,
It's hardly fair, I say
For life to travel blithely on
As if a normal day.

A life is gone, the widow weeps
I know not what to say.
We know the truth, but maybe she
Knows not the narrow way.

"Whate'er it takes," he used to say.
He often would repeat
That if his wife would closer be,
He'd glad accept defeat.

It's our turn now, it is, I say
For us to meet her need.
What would be worse, in this or next,
His word she wouldn't heed?

Don't turn away, o, grieving one.
Don't turn away, I say.
It's only in Christ's sacrifice
You'll meet again one day.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

I Hate Food!

No, that's a big fat lie.

What I hate is the hold food has over me. Why does something so simple as daily food consume (pun almost intended) my thoughts? Why do I have to think about what I'm going to eat? When I'm going to eat it? How much?

It's because that simple daily food consumption is not so simple. The need has turned into entitlement and on to gluttony.

I get the impression that most sin is the living-outside-the-boundaries of a God-given need. For example... adultery/ fornication/ homosexuality are outside the boundaries of the God-given satisfaction of sex. Greed is the o-o-b result of daily needs being met. And gluttony is the o-o-b result of our daily need for food.

This morning I went to a Weight Watchers meeting with Ingrid. I really like the facilitator. She is upbeat, balanced in her approach, but what rankles me about the meetings is the focus on, what people did and didn't eat, how to eat more and get away with it. This is the very problem I'm trying to run away from, folks! The focus on food!

I've been a yo-yo dieter for years, claiming every single time that "this is the last time." But, like an alcoholic, I have to admit that this is going to be a life-long struggle of wanting more than I need, and therefore needing to want less.

I will also admit that this time is different, because there is more at stake than just my weight. I'm moving into the era in life where my peers are on meds of all types for hyper- and hypo-this-and-that. I don't want to go there. It may be in my genes and unavoidable, but I want to avoid it as much as possible.

So, although my focus has to be on food for now (just enough and no more), I have to look beyond the scale and on to fruit...of the Spirit...self-control.

And casting all my cares at the feet of Jesus every morning, waiting in expectation for my daily food.

Which, by the way, I don't really hate. It's a love/hate thing.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Something Old, Something New

As the old adage goes: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

Not that I would be superstitious. No, it's tradition! So the morning of January 15, 1977, I dragged my maid of honor (well, matron, I guess) to a Penney's store and found a blue garter that I could throw away. Hey, it qualified for the traditional garter, something new, and the blue. And the garter I wore on my other leg (that I wouldn't dare throw away) had belonged to (borrowed from) my mom. So ... in my estimation at the time ... old.

It was the first year that the Air Force was celebrating the commemoration of Martin Luther King's birthday, so our wedding had to be postponed by two hours. No problem.

My m-o-h had helped me move stuff into our new townhome, and Mark would move his things in after the honeymoon. In the meantime, that townhome became my home base. And that morning was when I remembered that I had forgotten the new blue garter.

Due to circumstances that I will not dive into here, I was on edge that morning and was working just to smile.

At the Air Force chapel, veil in place, I took my father's arm. He walked me down the aisle, gave me away, then stepped up to the platform to co-officiate with another chaplain.

That's when I noticed something. Whether from prompting by others to keep the blood flowing, or from sheer fright, Mark's knees were knocking. What an auspicious beginning: me on edge and Mark's knees knocking.

If God gives us the days, my goal is 79 years like Grandma and Grandpa Nelson!

But here we are, by God's grace, 33 years later. Somewhat older, but somewhat newer. Too much borrowed...and sometimes (but not often) blue.