Perspective

I grew up in Sac City, a small farming community in northwest Iowa.  That community, the school and the church were my whole world for the first 18 years of my life.  There were a few exceptions.  My dad's family lived in southern Minnesota and so we made car  trips to visit Grandma a couple of times a year.  Once in a blue moon we would visit relatives in Storm Lake or would shop in Fort Dodge.  We'd make big plans for those trips that were all of 20 miles or 45 miles away.  Oh, the excitement of a trip to "the big city"!  Once we even took a car trip to California.

Most every Sunday, Grandma fixed dinner for her kids and grandkids and her sister's kids and grandkids.  That's about 25-30 people.  Once in a while that group was expanded to include her other siblings (and their families) and her cousin.  That would be another 15-20 people.  Aunt Fern didn't come often because she lived a long ways away...... in Des Moines!  100 miles or so away!

Because of the school and good teachers, I learned about far-off places.  Because the Kiwanis Club-sponsored Travel Log programs, I learned about exotic places in South America or in Africa.  When I was in high school, I started watching The Huntley-Brinkley Report* and learned that there was a place called Viet Nam... and Laos and Cambodia... where the USA was in a war as the good guys fighting against communism.

In this space I was insulated against the world.  The people with whom I interacted had skin the same color as mine and spoke the same language.  The correct religion was Lutheran, tho I knew there were other churches in the community.  I never heard the terms heterosexual and homosexual, much less gay, lesbian, bi-, trans-, queer and others.  I was ignorant of those issues.  Blissfully ignorant.  My greatest concern was to be financially secure.  One of the worst things that I ever heard said about others was that they were people who lived paycheck to paycheck.

Over the years, I've experienced very different people and places from those of my childhood.  99% have been positive.  I may not always have been so accepting of other people or places or things -- just because they were different.  But I think I've grown and I give thanks for all who nudge me forward.

I miss Sunday dinners at Grandma's house, but perhaps my memories have made them sweeter than they actually were.  To all the folks who pine for the good ole days of their childhood, I say this:  Remember those days with fondness and then get moving.  We can't go back..... and we shouldn't.

*on NBC news in the 1960's.

A note to my daughter

I love your Dad.  Men are such funny creatures!

Yesterday he said he was going to Target and asked if I wanted anything.  I said yes, a small jar of Vaseline (to prevent chapped lips in the winter.)  I emphasized small. Off he went..... and off I went on my separate adventures for the day.

When you were a baby, you had such awful diaper rash for months and months.  It must have hurt terribly.  I tried everything for it and finally bought a large jar of Vaseline.  I finally finished that jar after nearly 40 years.

So when I got home last night, on the counter in the bathroom sat a LARGE jar of Vaseline.  I fussed and fumed.  I tried to explain that this was more than I needed.  I'm 65 years old now.  Did he expect me to live to 105?  I don't think so!  He explained that this was the only size they had, except for single-use packages.  He was in Target, for crying out loud!  They have smaller jars somewhere, I know they must.

We watched the ballgame.  I read.  He dug out the sales receipt and told me I could take it back.  He went to bed.  I was still fussing about this in my brain and then I went to bed.  All of a sudden it occurred to me that the large jar of Vaseline was an example of his optimism and his love for me.  Yes, he believes I'm going to live a long, long time and yes, he loves me enough to prove it with an large jar of Vaseline.

This morning, as he was going to accomplish another of my errands, I had to stop him, give him a kiss and thank him for believing in me -- For believing that I would live to 105.  He's such a good guy!  My wish for all women is that they have guys in their life who treat them as well.  This is my wish for you, dear daughter.

Love, Mom

Exodus 3:1-6

First a disclaimer:  I haven't posted anything on this site for about 4 years, so I'll have to relearn how the site works..... and I expect that Google has made some changes to Blogger, but here goes.....
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God Calls Moses is often how this passage of scripture is titled.  Just imagine --

Moses is out in the wilderness, minding his business.  Minding the sheep.  He strays outside the wilderness to Mt Horeb, the mountain of God.  There he notices a bush that's on fire, but not burning up.  Being the curious sort, he says to himself, "I think I'll go check this out because it's not like something I've seen before."  When he does, God calls him by name and tells him to take off his shoes because he's on holy ground.  God continued to speak to him.  I imagine it's to reassure Moses of who is speaking to him.  Moses apparently believed it was God's voice because he was afraid and hid his face.

A bit later in Exodus, Moses tells God all the various reasons he can't be the leader that God is asking him to be.  The people won't follow him.  He's not a good speaker.  Someone else would be better at this job of leader.  Moses needs to go see his family.  He has other things to do.  Moses doesn't doubt that it is God speaking to him, but he just doesn't want to do what God asks.

I've been asked to do things I'm not sure about.  I've questioned whether it was God asking me..... or maybe I was mistaken.  So I've sought the counsel of wise friends who are in-tuned to the heart of God.  I'm often like Moses in that I have a million and three reasons to explain why I can't do as asked,  but God has been patient with me, listened to my excuses, provided work-arounds and said, "OK.  I know you don't want to, but I really need you to do this."  Often I'm like the prophet Jonah and run the other direction, but still God is patient and brings me back to the task at hand.*

God and I have been having an argument for the past year or so.  I'm still trying to decide if it's God speaking or if it's my wishful thinking.  I keep hearing "Do this.  Do that.  I'll be with you."  I keep saying, "But... but..... but....:"  And God sighs and shows me a way or sometimes several ways.  God puts people in my life who help me to hear God's word and who encourage me.  God is patient and believes in me, even when I don't believe in myself.

The stories of Moses -- and Jonah -- are my stories and I have a lot to learn from them.

*See my previous post on my understanding of the Jonah story.