Westwoods

What is your first thought or reaction to an unusual or scary situation?  What would you do if you saw an old person driving a motorized chair down the middle of your road?  Is your first thought, "He shore nuff looks funny, I wonder if everything is OK?"  Would you assume all is well, or would you know something is wrong and stop and find out directly? This happened to us the other night on the way home from school.  Laife was driving and unaware of the oddness of the situation.  He was concentrating on going around the man cautiously, while me, the worried mother, was looking at the chair, the catheter bag hanging off the side, and the drowsy look on the face of the driver of the chair. We turned the corner next to our home, unloaded the car, and began to settle in for the evening.  I went down and started a load of laundry and when I came back up, I happened to glance out the living room window to see the man in the motorized chair going round and round in the middle o

I truly love living in Idaho, The Pacific Northwest... it has a nice ring to it, as does, The Panhandle.  I have lived here almost sixteen years; it feels as much like home as any place has in all my years of living. However, there are a few codes I haven't yet cracked and probably never will.  There are secrets some will learn of from the very beginning.  This will happen naturally to them or they just happen to be in the right place at the right time.  Oh, and it matters if you know someone that knows someone else that can give you the inside scoop on whats what. There are two specific areas that I have yet to learn what's what and that is:  Where does one find these six gallons of huckleberries and meals of morel mushrooms that others so easily find and later brag about.  And if they are easy to find, why are those that find them not open and helpful about where they are found?  If someone like myself asks specifically the Question Whom No One Dares Asks, the answer is shr

I have a thing for words.  I take them apart and dissect them more than the normal person would. This one is no big deal, it's the same word as "blessed" in English, but I look at it and think, "Good Adventures"... And then I think of the times blessed is used in the KJV in verses.    Blessed are the peacemakers  take on a whole new meaning.  In other words, good adventures to the peacemakers. Now, we all know that isn't truthfully how it is.   It doesn't exactly sound like a great adventure to the one who has to find a way to be the peacemaker in a sticky situation.  Yet, something has me stuck here; the thought is intriguing. I think of all the women in my Sunday School Circle this Sunday past.  We took turns reading the lovely words of Scripture. I wanted to simply close my eyes and soak in the many diverse styles of reading, the falterings that come with a child on the lap, squirming.  The inflections of the older ladies, their voices worn and wa

How does it happen? I wrote it all down so clearly, what I felt and how I thought. I also wrote it with deep conviction, which was based on real life experience.  Isn't that evidence enough of saying it like it is? It really should not be that complicated. Simple truths are usually boring and uncomplicated, yet it seems people are more quickly interested in intricate and original.  Pretty often, I even find myself thinking, That is so early 90's.  Or as King George says on Veggie Tales, " Those are yesterday's duckies".   I'll be honest, I get a little sideways when someone explains the circumstances in such interesting detail and in an annoyingly bold way.  It is aggravating, when you are a writer and write the things you do because it was lain upon your heart as simple truth.  You felt you should not be ashamed to share the truth of the gospel by with holding words, so you did and they were full of empty. Such a real struggle of life, this saying what

When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child.... Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror...  I still have minutes, hours, days, and sometimes whole weeks of reasoning things out like a child, especially when it is things pertaining to love.  Some days, I struggle to see the true reflection of me and my will; my vision is blurred by the tears of my own pain and suffering. Pain and suffering I cause by not letting go of me and my piddly needs, goals, and desires. When, do we dare earn the right to say, "I cannot do this anymore" or "I am done with this trial"?  Is it right to make strong statements of: "I can not stand this one minute more"? And, "I need this need fulfilled now, today or at least by next Friday"? I know what it's like to think: I must have what I need now... I have felt severely alone and crippled with fears, and if I am honest, self pity. I used to make these excus

I've always loved the imagery I see when reading Revelation 4:11; the picture of the four and twenty elders, bowing and saying, " Thou are worthy O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.  It is a verse with such majesty and of placement; a verse that puts the priorities of life where they belong. A couple of my students needed to memorize the verse for part of an assignment last week, and then in church this morning a visiting pastor had his message based off this same verse. Isn't that just like God? I was already impressed with the verse last week, especially the part about being created for God's pleasure. I thought it was over, then, was privileged of going a little farther and deeper. I watch my children when they aren't aware of it:  Laife, as he plays his guitar and makes adjustments on his bike or while he does his homework. In Toria, I am intrigued by her elegance an