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I have a comfortable average sized guest room with a large closet. It sits adjacent to the second bathroom. No one uses this bedroom unless I have a guest. Except for a dusting, it’s always ready for someone. I keep clean sheets on the bed and bath towels in the closet. There is minimal preparation needed would I get a call from someone wanting to spend the night, as I did this last week when a high school friend was passing through.

Miriam Huffman Rockness, Christian author and pastor’s wife, has quite a different story to tell about a particular host she encountered many years ago. She and a friend were assigned to this certain residence after their high school choir group had put on a concert – too far away to return home for the night. Miriam and her friend had no idea what to expect once they arrived at the host’s home, but she admits that any fantasies of grandeur were dashed when they stepped through the elderly woman’s doorway. She describes the place as shabby and crowded. The old lady was pleasant enough but even the hot chocolate she graciously served was not enough to take away the Canadian chill of the unheated apartment.

I can imagine these teenage girls may have felt put upon. They had after all, came into the community to share their talents, and in so doing, had given up their nice cozy homes and beds. All they were hoping for was a decent place to lodge for the night.

The choir members had all been instructed by their leaders that “service” did not end with the concert but extended into the homes of those that volunteered to house them. Miriam and her friend tried to suppress yawns as their host produced pictures of her geographically distant family and told stories of each one.

Finally, they were shown to their tiny room with a double bed, separated only by a curtain from the kitchen. Once the woman finished cleaning up the kitchen, the house became quiet. The girls assumed she had gone off to her room.

In the night, Miriam woke and needed to use the bathroom. She tried her best to feel her way through the pitch-black kitchen but stumbled into a large object. Once her eyes readjusted to the moonlight coming through the small window, she peered at the object. To her utter surprise it was the old lady, fully dressed and wrapped in a blanket – asleep in a straight chair.

I Peter 4:9 tell us to offer hospitality without grumbling. My idea of hospitality is so far removed from this woman’s in the story. What I have to offer are “extras” I seldom use, but this woman gave of herself and all that she owned to give someone else a bed for the night. I give a wee morsel compared to her. What an impressive reminder of how little I give and how much more I could be doing.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

(Miriam Huffman Rockness story taken from “Opening Windows” – a collection of stories from various authors.)

I have never been partial to bugs of any kind. You may remember my blog about ticks and how I and my siblings would pull the engorged ones from behind the ears of our dog. We would pop them with a pliers to see how far the blood would shoot. As a young child, I would sit cross-legged on the south side of our farmhouse where the daddy long legs liked to hang out on the warm foundation. I hate to admit it, but for whatever reason, I found it entertaining to pull a leg off of the spider and watch how it could still scurry up the wall without an appendage. (My siblings were not involved in this venture. I’m sure I felt some guilt and shame about this and didn’t wish to admit my fixation.) And of course, I have swatted my fair share of deerflies and houseflies along with listened to the crunch of beetles and crickets beneath my shoes.

But now, I’m nearing my seventh decade, and my thoughts seem to be getting scrambled in my head. Not overall – but regarding bugs. I am finding them quite amazing. I wonder if God is showing me that no matter how insignificant we feel at times, we always have something amazing to offer.

Here’s a few astonishing features of our little creeping companions that you may not know:

1. The cochineal insect is loaded with a beautiful crimson fluid that gives us the red dye that is used in our textiles, cosmetics, and yes…even foods. (When smothering your hamburger in ketchup, you can thank the cochineal insect for that nice red color.)
2. Bees are not only useful for pollination. Their venom is being used to treat arthritis, sclerosis, and tendonitis.
3. Praying mantis eat the bigger agricultural damaging insects and lady bugs feast on the smaller ones.
4. The silkworm greatly affected human history. When the Chinese used them to develop silk, the silk trade connected China to the rest of the world.
5. Although an ancient practice, the use of maggots to treat gangrene is still being employed today. Maggots only eat dead flesh so do an excellent job of debriding wounds.

This list is only the benefits of a select few insects. Experts tell us that less than1% of insects are considered harmful. Www.sciencefocus.com tells us that it takes 200,000 insects to raise a swallow chick to adulthood. And without any insects at all, most birds and amphibian species would be extinct in two months.

What can I say? It looks like God had a good plan when he created these miniature organisms. It might be best for us and our environment if we can learn to live with them. Let them also remind ourselves that no one is insignificant. We all have a role to play in God’s plan.

Until next time….keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Early scales were balance scales, consisting of a beam with a pivot point and two pans hanging from each end. Objects were placed on one pan and weights on the other until the two pans balanced, indicating that the weights were equal. The earliest known center-beam scales were used by Egyptians in 1878 BC.

I remember the use of scales from an early age. We would go to town once a week to do our weekly shopping. Nearly every business we went into had a scale and I soon realized these devices were very important. Our first stop was often the hardware store. Dad would grab a handful of nails out of the bin and place them into the scoop on the scale. He would write the weight on the paper bag and the clerk would calculate the cost at the register. Our next stop was the grocery store. This time, I tagged along with Mom. She would put her apples in the pan of the scale and once the arrow was still, she would mentally tally how much the apples were going to cost. If it was more than she liked, one would go back into the bin. The pie would still be flavorful, but not quite as robust. Our last stop in town was always the Coop. Dad would drive up onto the weighbridge. The attendant inside would weigh us (the truck plus all its contents), then give Dad a two-finger salute and a smile when he was finished. (That’s Sandhills sign language for “pull ahead.”) Dad would drive forward towards the loading augers, pulling directly under the spout.

Scales have advanced over my lifetime, just as most other things have. Now, most scales are digital and use what’s called Strain Gauge technology. Instead of using a metal or wooden beam, they use transducer beams that are specially engineered to bend in proportion to the weight of the load placed on the scale, making them exceptionally accurate.

In Biblical times scales would have been used for much the same things they are today. It’s not hard to imagine scales at many booths in the open market. Figs, pomegranates, and precious metals may have been a few things sold by weight. Just like today, the more the item weighed the greater its value. In our culture this concept has overlapped onto even those things that are not weighed on a scale…the more powerful, wealthier, and famous one seems to be, the more value we allot to that person.

Imagine now that you have you been invited to step up onto God’s scale. Surely, God will be pleased with the accomplishments that have brought you wealth and prestige. But, to your astonishment, the scale does not move. How can this be, you ask? We only need to look as far as Psalm 62:9. From the greatest to the lowliest – all are nothing in his sight. If you weigh them on the scales, they are lighter than a puff of air. God’s scale obviously measures differently. Those that have obtained power, wealth, or prestige carry no more weight than the homeless man under the bridge. What then, does His scale measure? We find that answer in Eph. 5:22-23. It’s not apples, but spiritual fruit. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control – those are the things that “weigh” to God. It’s not impossible to tip God’s scale, but it won’t be with power, prestige, and wealth.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin.’

I like old pictures. I’m not sure why. Maybe, it’s the mystery involved with them. I can think of a hundred questions when I look at the familial display of old pictures hanging in my hallway. Did my great- grandmother in the late 1800’s have more than the one good dress she is wearing? How much fabric went into that outfit? How hard was it to talk my great-grandfather into dressing up and getting his picture taken? What’s with all the mustaches in the group photo of the great-greats and greats? But what I’m always most curious about is – why so serious? Most of my family from both sides were Christians and there’s plenty to say in the Bible about joy…like Psalm 32:11: Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice…shout for joy! My great-grandfather on my Dad’s side was a pastor. My great-grandmother on my Mom’s side never went to the storm shelter without her Bible. But, you’d never know it by looking at their pictures – they looked every bit as sullen as the rest of the sour group.

It’s so different than how we do pictures today. We all know the photographer is going so say “smile” when she’s ready to snap the picture and we comply. We look like we are loving life, even if it’s not quite so on that particular day. So what has changed in a few generations?

Was life so very hard for my ancestors that they didn’t feel they could smile, even for photos? This was a bothersome thought for me; especially since I keep a quiver full of coping mechanisms based around humor, smiles and laughter. It was unimaginable to me that folks were so downtrodden that they couldn’t bring themselves to smile for the few seconds it takes to snap a picture. I wasn’t ready to accept that concept. It was time to dig deeper and unearth the real truth about these solemn expressions.

I grabbed my coffee cup and my smart phone and sat down to do some in depth reading on the matter. I never expect to rely on just one source so I settled into my favorite chair to do research. The more articles I read, the more my face relaxed. I began to wish I had researched this a long time ago. It would have saved me needless concern. I must apologize to my great-grandfather pastor and my Bible toting great-grandmother for my ill thoughts of their questionable hypocrisy. What I discovered in my research was that in those days of early photography development, it took several minutes to take a photo because cameras relied on slow chemical reactions. A smile was more difficult to hold for a long period of time, so people grimaced or looked very serious. We snap a picture in less then a second in today’s world. My question was answered…it was photography that changed and that makes me smile.

Until next time….keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Some things are just too coincidental, or as I like to believe – not coincidental at all. More like, Someone greater than ourselves is in control and He orchestrates many things. One such incident of orchestration happened this week to my youngest son.

My sons’ dad (my first husband) passed away on Thanksgiving in Nebraska. Both Daniel and Caleb had flown in to see their dad over the Labor Day Weekend, knowing his condition was becoming more unstable. Daniel lives on the west coast; Caleb on the east.

When I spoke to Caleb this past week, I could tell things were not going well. Dean, their 3 1/2-year-old autistic son was having a very difficult week. Because he is non-verbal, it’s nearly impossible to know why he’s crying and continuously hitting his head on the floor. No one was sleeping, everyone was on edge, and it was looking to Caleb like he wasn’t going to be able to come for his dad’s service. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so he was more stressed than ever.

I felt that what Caleb was battling was more than just a run of discouraging episodic adversities. He admitted to being down spiritually too. “The more I pray, the worse it seems to get,” he told me. When we are down trodden, it’s hard to remember we have strength we can fall back on other than our own. In these times when we feel especially vulnerable or weak, those are the times we can rely upon the Lord’s mighty power. I encouraged him to read Ephesians 6 and to put on the armor of God so he could stand firm against the tricks of the Devil. (verses 10-11) The Roman soldier’s belt held everything he needed for hand-to-hand combat, (sword, rope, ration, sack, darts) and the spiritual belt of truth mentioned in theses verses holds everything together the Christian needs for spiritual battle. We are also to put on the breast plate of righteousness that protects our heart, the shoes of the gospel of peace that provides stability and traction in tense situations, the shield of faith that deflects the arrows shot at us from Satan, the helmet of salvation that protects our minds. Last but not least we pick up our sword of the Spirit (the Word of God), to finish out our armor when fighting Satan. (The devil hates Scripture because he knows it’s the truth.)

Dean was put on medicine for a possible ear infection and given hydroxyzine (non-narcotic) to help him sleep. Steph felt like she could handle things now that Dean was being treated and was settling down.

Post mortem services always consist of …. some hard times….and some good times. The boys – both living on opposite coasts have had little opportunity to stay connected with cousins that all live in the Midwest. Maybe, that’s why the oldest cousin, Amy, decided to give the boys each a Christmas gift while they were together. It had been nearly 20 years since these cousins had been together and they knew little of each other’s daily lives and struggles. She picked out two totally different kinds of gifts for her cousins. When Caleb texted me a picture of his gift, he called it “awesome.” And indeed it was, sending goosebumps down my spine. It was one of those gifts when you say….”How did you know?” I don’t see this as a coincidence. I find it much more plausible that it was Amy listening to the Spirit inside of her and then obeying. What she sat down in front of Caleb was a very unique gift. I have never seen one – a statue representing the Full Armor of God along with a pack of devotional cards with the same theme. What might this have all said to Caleb? I guess we’d have to ask him that question, but it seems to me it would have brought reassurance that God hasn’t forgotten him; that He’s there through the good and the bad times. Whatever came to mind for Caleb, I’m sure he was in need of it.

Until next time…Keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.