The joys of having gone to an all girl's highschool, is the lesson on how to talk to your daughters about why they are wearing a scarf. Of course, I wasn't one of the popular girls who had a scarf or reason to wear one. What is the big deal that you must wear a scarf on a school day? In our school, it would have been considered out of uniform, so Sister "So and So" would have asked an explanation of such a flagrant disregard for uniformity. "Moy Fawda toll me oy kuuud?" would have been one of the excuses to Sista.
This morning, I was "Sista So and So"---
"ZZZup wit da tassles, homegirl?" I asked, ever so cautiously. One must be careful not to disturb the ego of the budding pubescence. "NOT!"
Mother, need you ask me what my choices of style change are, was the paraphrase of the answer. {I haven't learned to write in cyberenglish, yet} They really don't use words, they just look at you. I can't smack her everytime she looks at me, so, I attempted again to ellicit some sort of explanation for the fluff, in tow.
My stories of odd Catholic School girls, who covered hickeys with those fluff items, didn't dissuade, her. So she won the debate, this time.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Don't let Euphoria die!
Oh me, Oh my, don't let my euphoria die. I bought her. My thumbs are not green, yet, but, I don't want to see her die. I put her in pots and I imagined a beautiful sight out of my front door, with a mix of euphoria and heather. The watering process eroded the soil from the pots and her roots are exposed. I did some little bit to heal her root system. I must do more, if I would see her live again. I have a hands off method of gardening, which certainly hasn't gotten me much in the way of returns. I imagine sitting with my aunt Lorraine and making mud pies in the earth and it is hard for me to concentrate on the love of the plants that I imagine growing and blooming under my care. I love them when I see them in the store and I imagine that I will care. Laundry always seems to get the better hand, and even that is a mess today. I do hope euphoria survives.
Monday, August 22, 2011
At what cost, light?
The light of truth, versus the light of beauty; keep the candle burning? Which shall I light? The light of beauty, calls and attracts moths and other insects...The light of truth attracts souls and live beings. Open unto us, we pray to the bridegroom of our souls. Let us know more of our Savior. Which light have you oiled, it is dark in your soul, if the only light is the light of beauty, spent upon our own attractions. Help us Lord to be the wise women and adorn our souls with the light of truth and not just the light of beauty.
Friday, August 19, 2011
The Miracle Worker!
We did discover the old movie from 1962, The Miracle Worker. Patty Duke did a wonderful job showing us Helen Keller. We were awestruck by the development of this child, from raw and uninstructed, to fully expressive and interactive as a human and an instructor of others.
I have always been curious about Helen Keller, as I guess, everyone who knows the story and certainly anyone who has seen Patty Duke portray her. I have spent some years meditating on the elements of human development that are illucidated in the blow by blow descriptions of her determined teacher Annie Sullivan.
My hypothesis on this, is that God is shining a light on the development of His people in the church, when these spectacles come to fruition. Perhaps I am stretching my imagination to think that God would show us ourselves in something as oblivious as the relationship of teacher and student. Perhaps also, there is more infinite a God as to have lessons in every teacher student relationship for Christ's Church, but I think it observable and mentionable to my children for me to share it.
Especially, in those days of the early 60's was the church blind and deaf and dumb, in its activity. So much of what was going on in church was blinded and deafened by racial division.
When Annie met Helen, it was acted out that Helen sat and mimicked, taking Annies glasses and rocking with her dolly. I think that we did that as the church in the 60's. We took on the name of Christ and acted out the motions, but were blind to our own condition. God will certainly not leave us in our condition of deliberate blindness to corporate sin. He will and has shaken us out of our fatal ease. We fight, personally and corporately against the change that God has for us, to bring us into conformity to Christ. The test is, when we see our sin, will we repent and turn.
Christ's miracle working power is still at work with His people. He is making us a beautiful bride, not having spot or wrinkle. He is opening our eyes and minds to see Him and respond in loving obedience to His truth.
I have always been curious about Helen Keller, as I guess, everyone who knows the story and certainly anyone who has seen Patty Duke portray her. I have spent some years meditating on the elements of human development that are illucidated in the blow by blow descriptions of her determined teacher Annie Sullivan.
My hypothesis on this, is that God is shining a light on the development of His people in the church, when these spectacles come to fruition. Perhaps I am stretching my imagination to think that God would show us ourselves in something as oblivious as the relationship of teacher and student. Perhaps also, there is more infinite a God as to have lessons in every teacher student relationship for Christ's Church, but I think it observable and mentionable to my children for me to share it.
Especially, in those days of the early 60's was the church blind and deaf and dumb, in its activity. So much of what was going on in church was blinded and deafened by racial division.
When Annie met Helen, it was acted out that Helen sat and mimicked, taking Annies glasses and rocking with her dolly. I think that we did that as the church in the 60's. We took on the name of Christ and acted out the motions, but were blind to our own condition. God will certainly not leave us in our condition of deliberate blindness to corporate sin. He will and has shaken us out of our fatal ease. We fight, personally and corporately against the change that God has for us, to bring us into conformity to Christ. The test is, when we see our sin, will we repent and turn.
Christ's miracle working power is still at work with His people. He is making us a beautiful bride, not having spot or wrinkle. He is opening our eyes and minds to see Him and respond in loving obedience to His truth.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
In a Wild House, from a Wide House...
In a Wild House, From a Wide House
I do remember being small enough to ride my trike down the pathway to the gate and back again. About a 2 Yard length track was our runway for the trikes and we had the best time riding back and forth up and down the pathway. I remember when my parents had that pathway laid and the back door put into the house at 113.
The sight of a possible wild mimosa tree coming up, in my makeshift garden, today, delighted my heart beyond measure. I remember wanting to climb the branches of our delicate mimosa, growing up. We certainly would have broken it down to nothing, had my mother not protected it, as she did. Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! I want the feathers to make something. I want to touch the leaves that are so delicate. The apple tree was too tall to get up into the branches, but the mimosa was so luscious to consider and we could easily have made a catapault for one of the little ones to launch them out into outer space somehow. Don’t touch it! Okay! Well, I never got to launch one of my siblings from its branches, but I did see how it closed and opened when I brushed its leaves. I did touch it, ever so gently and see it respond to my every motion. {what a precocious child I was?} Can’t we tie one of the children to the tippy top and see how far they get? No! Okay! We rode the bikes back and forth past it and had races and it heard every word and cry that happened in that house, my mimosa. I always wanted one. And now, it looks like, I might have one coming up, completely, by accident. Wow!
We are so blessed.
I do remember being small enough to ride my trike down the pathway to the gate and back again. About a 2 Yard length track was our runway for the trikes and we had the best time riding back and forth up and down the pathway. I remember when my parents had that pathway laid and the back door put into the house at 113.
The sight of a possible wild mimosa tree coming up, in my makeshift garden, today, delighted my heart beyond measure. I remember wanting to climb the branches of our delicate mimosa, growing up. We certainly would have broken it down to nothing, had my mother not protected it, as she did. Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! I want the feathers to make something. I want to touch the leaves that are so delicate. The apple tree was too tall to get up into the branches, but the mimosa was so luscious to consider and we could easily have made a catapault for one of the little ones to launch them out into outer space somehow. Don’t touch it! Okay! Well, I never got to launch one of my siblings from its branches, but I did see how it closed and opened when I brushed its leaves. I did touch it, ever so gently and see it respond to my every motion. {what a precocious child I was?} Can’t we tie one of the children to the tippy top and see how far they get? No! Okay! We rode the bikes back and forth past it and had races and it heard every word and cry that happened in that house, my mimosa. I always wanted one. And now, it looks like, I might have one coming up, completely, by accident. Wow!
We are so blessed.
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