Archive | February, 2016

Spring Clean Fling~Part 1

29 Feb

My Take

 DiVoran Lites

Old House

Author, Poet and ArtistAt one time I had a woman come in and clean every other week. I had to get two more cleaners one at a time before I went back to not cleaning myself. One woman got a different job, one moved away, and the last one wanted more money than I thought I should pay. It was, after all, an indulgence. I was then on my own as I had pretty much always been.

I took some classes at church and I went online to learn from Fly Lady. Have you heard of that site? Our daughter introduced her aunt Judy and me to it several years ago. I didn’t think Judy needed it, though, because she has been a military wife all her grown-up years and has kept house beautifully. Eventually I stopped Fly Lady, but lately I went back to it. She knows all my dirty little secrets and helped me change my ways. The strange thing was, I enjoyed it.

Bill is decluttering too. He gives me gifts that he purchased a long time ago and put away for the right time. He also gives me books I’ve asked him to read. I wondered where those went. I like the craft scissors he gave me, and there was a letter from my mother who died some time ago.

When I clean now, I remember my grandmother teaching me to wash windows with cold water, vinegar, and newspaper. She had a great fix for dirty ovens, too. She laid a stack of newspapers on a rack, saturated it with household ammonia, and shut up in the oven overnight. In the morning all we had to do was wipe out the oven. I’m into green now, but the memories are good.

Mother liked a clean house too. She, however, spent so many hours on her feet at the restaurant we owned that she decided to pay me to clean once a week. I did a huge basket of ironing every week for a dollar, as well. I like to iron, but I got behind on Bill’s shirts this year, so I’ve recently concentrated on catching up. The best thing about ironing when the kids were young was watching the old black and white movies on T. V. while the kids played in the sandbox. Eventually I had to iron less and less because of the changes in fabrics, but Bill and I both still like his cotton Hawaiian shirts, and to us, they need to be ironed.
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The Cruise of a Lifetime~Part 4

28 Feb

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

2After the excursion to the Marksburg Castle, we were scheduled for a cruise up the Middle Rhein River (from Koblenz to Mainz), and to see all the castles along the way. Unfortunately, the area had been having a drought for some time, and the river was low.

Let me explain about the ship we were on. It is a “long” ship (443 feet), only two passenger levels, since it must pass through some “locks” along the way.

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A larger, deeper, ocean-sailing ship wouldn’t be able to navigate those locks. Therefore, because the river was so low, we were unable to traverse the Middle Rhein River on the Gefjon. All the passengers (185) – and a few of the crew – were transferred to another ship for the Rhein River cruise. While our luggage and most of the crew stayed with the Gefjon, they were forced to dump of all the fresh water they had on board (over 100,000 gallons). In spite of all that, there were spots along the way where there was only 12″ of water below the ship! I guess it was a good thing we were off! Didn’t want to get grounded!

So, instead of seeing the castles from our ship, we all were transferred to the Konigsbacher – a tourist/sight-seeing boat – for the remainder of the day.

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We played “cat and mouse” with the Gefjon all the way to Bingen – we would be in front for a while, then the Gefjon would be in front. Fun to watch, with the crew waving at us as we passed each other.

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We did see some castles (we counted 31) while we sailed, and Carl West described them to us. However, as it was beginning to get too dark to see any other castles, Carl announced that it would be another 90 minutes before we could board the Gefjon again! Many groans!! I looked at Fred and vehemently said – “where’s my Kindle???!!!” Unfortunately, it was locked up in the safe in our room. It was a rather boring 90 minutes, for sure. Billie (our concierge) and the boat’s crew brought out cake and tea for us – charged to Viking, which was nice.

 

There was a flag flying on the Konigsbacher and I wondered what it represented. When I asked the crew, they said it represents their home town.

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We finally stopped at Bingen, and both the Gefjon and the Konigsbacher were lashed together, so there were only a few steps to get across to get to the Gefjon.

We were finally able to get to supper at 7:30 p.m. Our table mates were Nancy and Jim from Arizona (they formerly lived in Metro West in Orlando), and Rachael and her mother, Carol, from Sacramento, California. Rachael earned her law degree from UNM (the University of New Mexico).

Bed by 10:00 p.m. and we were very tired!

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~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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Solitude

26 Feb

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

Louise Gibson

 

I have heard it said that solitude is the soul’s best friend.
It allows a quiet time within one’s self to dream, to comprehend.

That’s when we dream our dreams,
and pen our thoughts,
to bring them to fruition-
before they are ever verbalized
or expressed in composition.

It is only in the stillness of solitude, I find
the truth and purpose that brings peace of mind.

Secluded cabin

Source: Reflections of the Heart: March 2007

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Helping Hands

25 Feb

On  the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I'm a winner

When I was a child I had my heart set on being a missionary. As I pretended to sweep the floor in my makeshift outdoor playhouse, my mind pictured me sweeping out a tent somewhere in Africa. I was sweeping the floor for Jesus.Then I grew up, drew away from the church for a time, and put the dream aside.

A few years ago, my local church opened Compassion House, a food pantry ministry to help feed our small community. I was excited. Working in a soup kitchen or food pantry had been a desire of my heart since I had put aside the missionary dream.  I asked if  I could help and was disappointed when I was told they had all the help they needed. Several years pass, pastors and members moved on and I assumed Compassion House  was still fully staffed. Then, the first of February, a call went out of a need for volunteers to help stock shelves in Compassion House. It was at an inconvenient time but I was determined to make it work and I did.

After the shelves were stocked, I asked about helping on the days they were open, the first and third Tuesday of the month. To my joy, they said I would be welcome! I have worked two times so far and loved every  minute of it.

This is the description of Compassion House from the church website:

Compassion House exists to meet physical needs as well as spiritual needs. Our guests needing assistance will have the opportunity to sit and talk with a trained volunteer who will pray with them.

           

A new visitor to Compassion House is interviewed to determine their food needs and a top notch social worker is on site to assist with social and medical needs.  Based on the interview each person is allotted a specific number of food items. Each time they check in, they are given a slip of paper with their name as well as the number of items they may choose.Then they are sent down the walkway to the room with the food. Our food pantry gives the individuals the opportunity to choose their items, rather than handing them a pre-packed bag  and my job was greet them, usually by name and assist them with choosing items, bagging  and offering help carrying their bags,

This week a young man came in and as he was collecting his items, his movements made me think of someone who might be high. I felt uneasy. Then as he gathered the last of his items, he thanked us and said his children were going to be so happy when they came home from school and had food to eat. That wrecked my heart.

Why am I sharing this? My church is not the only one in our small community who offers a helping hand of food and sometimes clothing to those in need. The top notch social worker spends time each week at several food pantries in town and her salary is paid through a foundation which gets its money from fund raising events. America has good and generous people and I hope to begin a weekly series titled “Helping Hands” to spotlight their efforts.

How about you? Do you know of a church or organization that offers a helping hand in your  community? If you would like to share your story, please comment below and  If you are one of our many international readers I would be delighted to read and  share your stories too.

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Colorado Adventures

22 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

and

Patricia Franklin 

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Patricia and I have been corresponding for years. We first met when she was in first grade, just before she was promoted to second and moved one aisle over to the second grade aisle where we five second graders sat. She got promoted because she was the only child in the first grade, and because she was smart. It was my first time in that school because my family had recently moved to town. This letter starts where my last blog, “Shelf Roads,” left off. I liked the extra details she shared so thought I would pass them on.

DiVoran

 The Altmans started coming to our school after the consolidation. (Before that they had gone to a small country school closer to their ranch. The consolidation was when all the students from valley schools were bussed to town.)

Marjorie and I were friends in high school, and we actually were roommates our first year in college in Gunnison.  They had a ranch at the foot of the range, near Alvarado, (a mountain meadow where the community had field days and picnics). We used to go horseback riding on the trails up there. That was so much fun.

One time we came upon this old cabin.  We looked inside a broken window and something white moved inside.  We screamed and ran, then went back to look again.  It was a white goat, and was inside standing in the middle of the bed. The cabin was old and still furnished.  The cupboards had been taken over by rats and any other creature that could get inside.  I guess it had been abandoned, as everything in it was a mess.  We never did find out who the owner was, or what happened after that.  Although, I remember my Dad had me write up an article for the Wet Mountain Tribune about the adventure, and it was on the front page of the paper.  We sure had some great, fun adventures in those times.

There is a shelf road between Canon City and Cripple Creek.  It is named the Shelf Road and is used a lot.  It has been closed various times, due to rock slides and erosion, but is still one of the main roads up there.  That and the Phantom Canyon Road are the two most used from Highway 50 to Cripple Creek I would say.  I have not been up those roads for a few years, but I love them.   After driving all over the “jeep roads” in the San Juan and Gunnison mountains, I do not mind them anymore.  We have been on some very narrow and scary roads, but I love it so much, I got over my worst fears.

I still do not like being on the edge and looking down though.  Once Frank and I had to pull way over to the side because some 4 wheelers were coming down and would not move over.  (As we were going up, we were supposed to have the right of way).  Our Jeep was so close to the edge, I could see the pebbles falling out from under the tires and rolling down the mountainside. And there was a pickup upside down about 1000 feet down.  Now, that was scary!!😕 One time we started up that road when it was raining. A lightning bolt hit a nearby mountain, and then some rocks started rolling down the side of the mountain above us.  Needless to say, we backed down and did not make the trip that day.

The Shelf Road from Canon City to Cripple Creek

 

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The Cruise of a Lifetime~ Part 4

21 Feb

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy WillsJUDY

I’ve not mentioned that, before each meal, Fred and I would “excuse” ourselves from the rest of the table, to say our blessing. This morning, at the breakfast table, as we were beginning to excuse ourselves, the other gentleman at the table leaned toward me, arm and hand outstretched across the empty chair between us, and said, “Looks like you are about to thank the Lord.” When I agreed, we all took hands and prayed. After prayer, I told him that he sounded like a preacher. He grinned and said, “well…….”

They turned out to be Richard and Judy, with their widowed friend, Lucy (Richard called her “Lucy B”). They are from Fort Worth, Texas, and he is the Worship Leader for the 8:00 a.m. service at the North Richland Hills Baptist Church. He also directs the Senior Adult Choir there. So while he is not a preacher, he is in the Christian ministry.

Richard and Judy flank Lucy

Richard and Judy flank Lucy

We found several points in common: His wife’s name is Judy – I am Judy. She is a pianist – I am a pianist (of sorts). I asked her one time: If you are eating a piece of cake, what is your favorite part, the cake or the icing? Her response? THE ICING! I gave an air fist pump and a whoop of joy – because that’s MY favorite part of a piece of cake, as well! WOW….are we twins?

We struck up an instant friendship.   Judy is the pianist for the service at their church (he affectionately calls her “Sister Judy” – i.e. “play us something in the key of G, Sister Judy”). He would address me occasionally as “Judy2.”

Just a note here to say that the first four years Fred and I were married were spent in Fort Worth, while Fred attended and graduated from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. We are quite familiar with Fort Worth.

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Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary – the Rotunda

While Lucy was up getting her food, we talked about Fort Worth and seminary. He mentioned that Lucy was a Baylor University graduate, and I told him about my Dad being one of the three students at Baylor in the very first graduating class in the School of Music in 1924.

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When Lucy returned, he informed her that my Dad was a Baylor grad. She blinked and looked at me. Our conversation took off from there. She is a die-hard Baylorite!

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There is also another connection between Richard and us – he was the Minister of Music for the First Baptist Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico – my original home church – in the 1970’s! We began comparing notes on people we both had known while there. Absolutely amazing!

Original building, First Baptist Church, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Original building, First Baptist Church, Albuquerque, New Mexico

 

Following breakfast, I wasn’t feeling very well, so I stayed in the stateroom, while Fred went on an excursion (walking tour) to the Marksburg Castle. He came back saying that it had been a VERY difficult walk/climb, and I would not have been able to manage all the steps and the climb. I was glad I had stayed home! But he took lots of pictures, and said it was a delightful castle to explore. I’m glad he was able to make the jaunt by himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~Part 4 to be continued~~~~~~~~~~

 

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Does God love us when we’re bad? Five ways to know. | Janet Perez Eckles

20 Feb

Walking by Faith, Not by Sight

Janet Perez Eckles

Janet Eckles Perez

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I blew kisses and waved good-bye at my two grandkids. They waved back from the back seat. “Remember,” I called out, “no more, no less.”

In her high-pitched voice, my eight-year-old granddaughter called back, “No more, no less, Nana.”

That’s our secret code. It began one night as I wrapped a fluffy towel around her after her bath. I cupped her soft face in my hands and looked into her blue eyes… “Always remember, princess, that there is nothing you can do to make me love you more. And there’s nothing you could ever do to make me love you less.”

Ever since then, that was our code each time we part: “no more, no less.”

I learned that from Romans 8:39; “Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

He (God) loves us no matter what:

  1. When we fall. When we make errors, mistakes and ruin what we thought would be a good thing.
  2. When we fail in our attempt to do something good, worthwhile or important.
  3. When we frown at the sadness of life. And when that sadness turns to tears of sorrow, anger or confusion.
  4. When we forget. When we forget the power of His love, the length of His compassion and the sincerity of His promises.
  5. When we feign. When we try to fool others by putting a smile on the outside yet, inside we are falling apart.

He still loves us. He still calls us. And He still looks for us to receive that immense love.

Source: Does God love us when we’re bad? Five ways to know. | Janet Perez Eckles

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Counting One’s Interest

19 Feb

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

Louise Gibson

 

“One should never count the years–one should count one’s interests.

I have kept young trying never to lose my childhood sense of wonderment.

I am glad I still have a vivid curiosity about the world I live in.

“Helen Keller, 1880-1968Blind and Deaf American Writer and Scholar The writer of that beautiful philosophy expressed my sentiments so eloquently-

 

But I humbly acknowledge my advantage-

I can hear! And I can see!

But did she hear more clearly than I?

And did she see through the Master’s eye?

Oh, how blessed to have the Master’s touch-

to live to serve- to give so much.

 

May I never take for granted

the blessings of each day-

A kind word, a noble deed,

encouragement along the way.

 

Ocean with cliffs

Source: Reflections of the Heart: February 2007

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Three Bible Truths That Struck Fear in my Heart

18 Feb

On the Porch

Onisha Elllis

I'm a winner

Last week as I tried to write this blog, I couldn’t seem to put my thoughts together so I decided to let it rest for a week. I posted my first ever “teaser” and used that time to mull and pray for clarity of thought and words. Until age twelve I spent a lot of time at church. My mother was a Sunday School teacher, my dad a deacon as well as the Training Union director and they both sang in the choir. ( It was a wonderful choir). When they were needed at church, I was there too. Although there were some people who did not behave in a loving, Godly manner, most appeared to be genuine believers, whose desire was to serve God. It was in that church where I gave my heart to Christ and learned how much he loved me.

Lucerne Park Baptist Church, Orlando, Florida

Lucerne Park Baptist Church, Orlando, Florida

Over the years I  heard a LOT of sermons, good ones too. Yet there were three teachings of Jesus that I feared:

  • Don’t be a milk drinker
  • The gate to heaven is narrow
  • I never knew you.

I didn’t see how my imperfect self could ever measure up.

Don’t be a milk drinker

The passage that admonished me to not drink milk is Hebrews 12:13-14. Verse 13 reads:

 For every one that useth milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness: for he is a babe.

milk-glass-frisch-healthy-drink-nutritious-krug-2

Sermons based on this verse admonished me to stop needing to be spoon fed and grow up.  I turned to Biblegateway to get a more readable translation and found The Message Version.

11-14 I have a lot more to say about this, but it is hard to get it across to you since you’ve picked up this bad habit of not listening. By this time you ought to be teachers yourselves, yet here I find you need someone to sit down with you and go over the basics on God again, starting from square one—baby’s milk, when you should have been on solid food long ago! Milk is for beginners, inexperienced in God’s ways; solid food is for the mature, who have some practice in telling right from wrong.

Sometimes it seemed that as soon as I started on the solid food of  God’s word, I would relapse to the milk diet. I worried that I was stalled there forever, destined to be a milk drinker.

The gate to heaven is narrow. Matthew 7:13-14  worried me a lot during my childhood and early adult years.

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” NIV

I was surrounded by Godly people. How was my mess of a life going to fit through that gate?

Woman crossing suspension bridge

 

In my lifetime, I have seen a trend to “widen the tent” or in this case, the gate. The Message translation explains this far better than I can.

13-14 “Don’t look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don’t fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention. “

This one doesn’t frighten me now. I believe that narrow gate will hold all who earnestly seek the ways of the Savior.

I never knew you. My heart quaked when I considered this scripture, Luke 13:27

 But he shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity. NIV

Puzzled girl

 

How could he say that?

Once again, I turned to The Message and read several more verses.

23-25 A bystander said, “Master, will only a few be saved?”

He said, “Whether few or many is none of your business. Put your mind on your life with God. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires your total attention. A lot of you are going to assume that you’ll sit down to God’s salvation banquet just because you’ve been hanging around the neighborhood all your lives. Well, one day you’re going to be banging on the door, wanting to get in, but you’ll find the door locked and the Master saying, ‘Sorry, you’re not on my guest list.’

26-27 “You’ll protest, ‘But we’ve known you all our lives!’ only to be interrupted with his abrupt, ‘Your kind of knowing can hardly be called knowing. You don’t know the first thing about me.’

Banquet room

 

I love how Jesus admonished them to mind their own business and to put their mind on their own life with God. I have learned that spending time with God is not giving him my list of daily requests, rather it is daily giving myself to him. I confess, I am still learning.

Many, many years ago, DiVoran Lites shared with  me her theory of fiery darts and I have never forgotten it. To paraphrase, Satan has a bundle of darts at his disposal and he chooses ones that will attack weakness.

For me he attacked the maturity of my faith (milk drinker), my worthiness to enter Christ’s kingdom (narrow gate)  and my fear of being rejected ( I never knew you). DiVoran suggested that when those darts arrived, I should mentally reject them and return them to the sender. I do this by claiming God’s word in my life, especially the verses that I call my “cling-tos”

I’d like to share with you one of my favorite “cling-to” verses.

Romans 8:38-39

38 For I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels won’t, and all the powers of hell itself cannot keep God’s love away. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, 39 or where we are—high above the sky, or in the deepest ocean—nothing will ever be able to separate us from the love of God demonstrated by our Lord Jesus Christ when he died for us

Nothing, nothing  can separate me from his love! Isn’t that the best? .

 

“See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands.” -Isaiah 49_16a_-2

 

 

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My First Car~Part 2

17 Feb

A Slice of Life

 Bill Lites

Bill Cross Plane

 

The extra money I saved working at Furr’s Super Market allowed me (with my parents help) buy a new Harley Davidson Sportster when I was 17. This machine was the one that got me interested in motor cycle clubs there in Albuquerque. They had all kinds of cool club events that I participated in. The one I liked the most was the “Hare & Hound” chase at night. A bunch of us would line up abreast with our lights on, and then act as the “Hounds” and slowly take off across the desert until we flushed a rabbit. Then it was open throttles to see who could chase down the rabbit first. Do any of you have any idea how fast a rabbit can run and make a 90-degree turns? Needless to say, that could be a very bumpy ride as the wind would deposit small mound of sand around each little tuft of vegetation, and running over one would sometimes causing unexpected airborne adventures.

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When I was 18 my parents finally relented and allowed me (Here it comes!!) to buy “My First Car.” I think the main reason for their decision was that the car was in pretty sad shape and needed a lot of work, so they figured I couldn’t get in too much trouble with it. I can’t remember who I bought it from, but I paid a whopping $50.00 dollars for it. It was a 1940 Chevy Coupe and all I can say is that it ran. Now came the challenge I had been waiting for all those years. Rebuilding lawn mower and motorcycle engines had kept me busy over the years, but it had not satisfied the desire to rebuild my own car. Now I had a car to work on that I could call my own. Believe it or not, when I said it would run, I wasn’t kidding, flat out it wouldn’t go over 50 mph on a level road, and much less up hill.

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The first thing I did was to get the car into our garage and began to clean up the engine. I didn’t have a lot of tools or a hoist, so I didn’t remove the engine. But I degreased the engine, flushed the radiator, replaced the water hoses, replaced the spark plugs, cleaned up the distributor and installed new points. I changed the oil and installed a new oil filter and a new air filter. Then I rebuilt the carburetor and, with a friends help, adjusted the timing. I painted the rocker cover, oil filter, air filter, oil filler cap and water pump to make the engine compartment look a little flashier.

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Then I started to work on the body. I found some replacement bumpers and grill at an auto salvage yard (that was back when you could remove the parts needed yourself and very cheaply). I had to replace the heater hoses, install new seat covers, install new floor mats, and recover the platform under the rear window. Of course I had to have a “Necker’s Knob” on the steering wheel. And amazingly the radio worked (on most local stations). The next thing was to sand down all the rough spots on the body (apply and sand “Bondo” where needed) and primer the entire body. We didn’t have clear-coat finishes back then and I didn’t have the money for a fancy multi-coat lacquer job, so a friend helped me with a nice enamel paint job. When I was finished with all that, the only difference between how my car looked and the one in the photo below is that my car was painted Turquoise, had a permanent windshield visor and no fog lights.

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As it turned out, I finished fixing the car up just in time to meet, DiVoran, the love of my life. However, the when, where and how we met is another story for another time and blog. I knew DiVoran’s brother, David, from working with him at Furr’s Super Market, and when he told her he knew this guy at work who had a car and a motorcycle, she said, “I know a Bill Lites from school. Maybe I should get to know him a little better.” Well, she did get to know me better; a lot better, and we spent many evenings after that in “My First Car” running around town and at the drive-in movies. I drove that car until I shipped out with the U.S. Navy. Funny thing about that car; I had waited so long to get it, and now can’t remember who I bought it from. Then I put all that time, money and effort into restoring it, and now, for the life of me, I can’t t remember exactly to who or when I sold it. Oh well, I’m just glad I have this much of the memory of that time during my teenage years.

 

—–The End—–

 

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