Archive | March, 2016

Baking for a Cure

31 Mar

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I'm a winner

Our friends Betsy and R.M. have two precious granddaughters. They are smart, creative, and fun. They are also fighting Cystic Fibrosis, and research for a cure is cruelly underfunded. That’s why every year Betsy heads up a bake sale to help fund research.

The sale is held on the sidewalk at K-Mart and the ladies of our church pitch in to create some amazing cakes and other sweets. I made two cakes for the sale, a chocolate cherry bundt cake and a ring of fudge bundt with coconut cream cheese filling. To my horror, when I went to take the ring of fudge cake out of the pan, it stuck. Don’t you hate it when that happens? I took my remaining cake to the church and told them my sad tale. We began to toss around some ideas on how to salvage the damaged cake. At first I thought of cutting it into slices but packaging them seemed to be an obstacle. Then we hit on the idea of cutting the cake into quarters. Fantastic idea! A lot of people don’t want to eat a whole cake but a half or quarter would be perfect. I drove home, cut the cake into sections, covered them in plastic wrap and to make it look more attractive, I added some curling ribbon in spring colors. I was happy to be able to revive the cake for two reasons. One, because I truly wanted the cake to be sold to raise money and second, the temptation to eat the cake myself was removed. : )

Some of the cakes donated
Chocolate Cherry Cake

If you would like to know more about Cystic Fibrosis, visit the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation .

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A Taxi to There

29 Mar

This touched my heart. It explains so well the journey into recovery from grief.

A Generous Helping

The sad man trudged alone in the dark of a miserable, gray night when a sudden shock of yellow caught his eye.

“Taxi!” he yelled with his hand raised.

The right tire of the cab sloshed into a puddle just before reaching the curb splashing murky water all over its fare, adding insult to his already dank prospects.

“Where ya headed?” the cabby asked pleasantly after the man settled in his seat and shook off some of the dampness of the road.

“There,” he said resolutely. “Just away from here.”

“Well, I can drive anywhere or nowhere,” the cabby reasoned. “But it would help to have a destination.”

The man looked into the small mirror, locking eyes with his driver. “I don’t care, really. I just have to leave this place.”

“Okay then. I’ll shut-up and drive.”

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Bag Lady

28 Mar

My Take

DiVoran Lites

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Six regulars minus the pastor’s wife are waiting for Sunday School to start. The phone in the kitchen rings. We ignore it because we know the pastor hears it in his office. In a minute our door opens and the pastor’s wife sticks her head in. “There’s a lady on State Road 405 heading for church in her wheelchair and she says the chair won’t go anymore, so now she can’t get here. The Sunday school teacher and his nephew leave and the co-teacher takes over.

Apparently Mission was accomplished. Toward the end of class, the teacher comes back and asks if one of us ladies can help the woman who is now in the bathroom. I get the distinct impression this is not my bag. For one thing I don’t know how big she is or how much help she’ll need. For another, I haven’t been doing any resistance training lately, (or ever). Ruth gets up and goes, she’s the minister of music and takes care of handicapped seniors during the week. She’ll know just what to do.

It’s time for praise team practice. Ruth pushes the wheelchair lady into the church and we go to meet her. I’ll call her Queenie.

While we’re on the podium singing, Queenie takes food from one of several bags hanging from the handles of her chair and eats breakfast. When she finishes she takes out two small tablecloths and covers herself for warmth against the air conditioner.

I am fascinated by this person who would set out for church in her motorized wheel chair even though the church was ten miles from where she met the man who invited her and where she usually hangs out. Later, Ruth tells me Queenie can walk, but the wheelchair is her only means of transportation. I want to study this person, but that would require staring, so I just dart glances hoping she won’t catch me. She has a loud booming voice and I hear her tell her new retinue that she wants to sit in a chair. Four or five people help her get settled. The next thing I know she’s broadcasting over our singing into her cell phone.

We have a short break between Praise-team practice and church when I teach the children. I walk around a bit and then go into the Sunday School room to see if everything is ready. There’s Queenie snoozing on the floor with her wheelchair nearby. It’s a very small room and I’m eagerly expecting ten lively, curious beautiful children in a few seconds. I tell her I’m sorry, but we need the room. She somehow manages to leave.

Queenie must have gone back into the church because after Sunday School I pass the minister’s office and hear voices. Queenie is getting help and counseling and I’m glad. I like to see people loved and cared for and I do a fair share of it myself, but this time I minded my own business and I don’t regret it. There were plenty of people to help and my focus was to be on the praise team and the children.

That’s the sort of thing that happens when we’re really listening for God’s voice. He does say, “This is the way, walk ye in it,” (Isiah 30:21) but I don’t believe he meant for us to automatically jump into what we’ve been taught before we ask God what He thinks and what He wants us to think. The old way is to study the rules and follow them. The new way is to nurture the Spirit of God which lives in us and follow his leading all the time, in everything. (Hebrews 8:13).

Around the time when the, “What would Jesus do?” phase swept over our land I read, “Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” (John 5:19) You know who said that, don’t you? You don’t have to figure out what you should do, you just have to ask the Father what He wants you to think and do. Number 1. Ask. Number 2. Think Number 3. Do or don’t do.

It may sound difficult, but it doesn’t take much time, and you can get into a habit with it. I’m just starting, but already I can see how much better it is to walk in that kind of contact with my Father in Heaven who loves me. You can live a well-ordered life if you learn to know and trust the One who gives the orders.

If you’d like to know more about this concept, study your Bible and also try Dr. Caroline Leaf online. She’s a cognitive (thinking) neuroscientist (brain and mind specialist) who is showing how science is finally catching up with the Bible.

 

 

 

 

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The Cruise of a Lifetime~Part 7

27 Mar

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

 

Thursday, November 12.

Since we hadn’t reached Bamberg yet – scheduled to arrive about 1:00 p.m. – and it was another sailing morning, we slept in, getting to breakfast at 8:00 a.m. Before we finished, Richard, Judy, and Lucy arrived. They got their breakfast, and we visited until 9:30.a.m. We went through several locks, which was fun to experience.

Carl West, Program Director for the Gefjon, gave detailed information about the tours in Vienna, Budapest and other cities, which Fred attended, followed by lunch in the lounge.

At 1:30 we left the ship on a bus transfer to the city of Bamberg.

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We went on a walking tour of Bamberg, seeing many beautiful and unusual types of architecture and statuary.

We saw beautiful churches and buildings, including St. Michael’s Abbey for the training of the clergy.

We even saw a “Green Goose” pub!

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It always seemed funny to us to see English words in a German town. We even found a Kätie Wohlfahrt Christmas store in town! We walked through a garden, with a few flowers still in bloom.

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According to the info sheet from the ship: “One of the few cities in Germany not destroyed by World War 2 bombing, Bamberg is the largest Old Town to retain its medieval structures…Along with its Gothic, baroque and Romanesque architecture, the city was laid out according to medieval planning rules as a cross with churches at the four cardinal points.”

Ever since we lived in Germany, I have been fascinated with the hotel/store/restaurant signs. Back in the days when the “common” folk were more or less illiterate, the signs were posted so everyone would know just what the establishment was. If it was a bakery, there was a pretzel within the sign.

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The butcher could have an animal within the sign. The drug store or apothecary usually had a mortar and pestle within the sign.

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You get the picture. But the signs were usually quite ornate and beautiful. I looked for them above each store and took as many pictures of them as I could.

While in Bamburg, we stopped in a Karstadt department store (comparable to our Dillards, and one of our favorite places to shop when we lived in Germany) to purchase some socks. I walked up to a saleslady and said, “Entschuldigen (excuse me).” She smiled at me, and then I said, “Ich habe nur ein bischen Deutch. (I have only a little German) Haben sie….?” and pulled up my pant leg to show her my knee socks. She immediately took me to where the women’s socks were. I thanked her profusely. They were lovely, soft socks, and I enjoyed wearing them.

Here is a picture of a plaque with a date.

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Our guide asked if we understood the date. It looks to be 1867 – but we are told that’s not correct. The “8″ is not complete – and therefore is actually a “4″ or half of the “8.” So the correct date would be 1467. Interesting.

We were all to meet at Neptune’s statue, to get back on the bus for the return trip to the Gefjon. While waiting to get to the bus, I was “baptized” by bird droppings while sitting under a tree.

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We had dinner in the ship’s restaurant again, and to bed by 10:00 p.m.

 

 

 

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Three Most Powerful Words

27 Mar

 

He is risen 2016

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Will God answer my prayer? Five keys.

26 Mar

Walking by Faith, Not by Sight

Janet Perez Eckles

Janet Eckles Perez

03-18-16 keysI sat beside a delightful lady at a recent prayer gathering. She related with passion each of the steps of her healing from a devastating car accident.

“The healing was miraculous,” she said.

Broken bones healed with no need for casts, cuts on her face healed with no scars. And doctors said she would lose her teeth as they had turned gray because they began to die due to the severe impact. But God healed them as they turned white before her eyes, leaving the doctors stunned.

We all listened in awe. But after the astonishment subsides, do we sometimes wonder: Why aren’t our own prayers answered and why do miracles seem to pass us by?

I imagine Joni Erickson might have wondered the same from time to time while spending her life, paralyzed in that wheel chair.

But even when we question, God still insists for us to bring our requests before Him. (Philippians 4:6)

And when we do, here are five steps to make sure He will answer them:

  1. Readjust our priorities. If we seek the answer to our Prayer with more passion than we seek God Himself, His patience rather than answers is what will be at work. (Matthew 6:33)
  2. Resist the temptation to recite memorized, perfect prayers, with lovely words and deep insight. God simply wants the genuine expression of our heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)
  3. Recognize that sometimes we don’t know how to pray or what our requests should be. So we can freely ask for Him to show us what to pray for. (Psalm 139:23)
  4. Remember that His answer is always in His timing, not ours because a thousand years in God’s sight are like a day that has just gone by. (Psalm 90:4)
  5. Relish in the fact that while we wait, He’s working in us, in our heart, in our situation. He has the answered already prepared. (Ephesians 2:10)

Why follow these steps? Because “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him” (1 John 5:14–15).

Visit Janet’s blog to read more: Will God answer my prayer? Five keys. | Janet Perez Eckles

IN THE NEWS

Sometimes God says “yes,” sometimes he says, no,” and sometimes He says, “not yet.” The key is to trust Him no matter what the answer. My dear friend and I prayed for God’s hand to open doors in places where only He can. And this time His quick and clear “yes” left us in awe. I received an invitation to minister to women in Quito, Ecuador. I’m packing lots of gratitude in the suitcase of my heart.

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March is a Lion

24 Mar

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I'm a winner

I can’t believe March is flying past.  We decided to depart Florida early to address a mud slide issue on our property in North Carolina, as well as get a head start on greening up our neglected grass. The first week we were here was spent enjoying time with our daughter and visiting the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. After she left we began to plan how we were going to address our issues.

Phone calls were made, lists were started, prices were checked and then we seem to have stalled. One of our projects was to have a walkway poured from our drive to the front door. We have stepping-stones but we want to be proactive, should either of us need a walker in the future. It turns out that folks who create walk ways are not fond of returning calls. Fortunately we have a Plan B. Today my husband and I removed the stepping-stones and stacked them to repurpose into stairs to husband’s shop.

Stones B&W

We did receive call backs on Wednesday from two contractors but their price was too high for our shallow pockets. Fortunately, we know a handyman who works at an hourly rate. Our current plan is for my husband and the handyman to build the forms and pour the concrete themselves. So hopefully, we will have a lovely new walkway before we return to Florida.

We have yet to buy fertilizer, lime and grass seed. We made a trip into town to buy them at Ace Hardware only to discover the local Ace does not carry them. We had priced them in the Georgia town that is south of us when we were down there for breakfast. We held off on buying and spreading the seed due to a cold snap. We hope to have them purchased and spread by Monday.

Of course the most important project, the mud slide has yet to be figured out. Our last plan is to rake the mud area smooth and plant Kentucky 31 Tall Fescue and hope it will hold the hill. I am wondering if those stepping-stones we moved could be used here in some way.

Mudslide

  All of this must be wrapped up in one week. I feel as if March came in like a lion and is going out like a lion. The only lamb in sight is the Holy Lamb of God whose resurrection we will be celebrating this Sunday.

UPDATE 3/28/2016

After writing this my husband’s nagging cough turned into a full blown sinus infection. On the bright side,the weather here in the hills is beautiful with highs in the 60s, coaxing buds and blossoms from their winter’s slumber. The high 80s and possible 90 degree temps are going to be a shock to my senses when we return to Florida.

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Review Or Die! (Not you, the Reader — the Author) | Elk Jerky for the Soul

22 Mar

I tend to keep separate the book marketing side of my world and the blogger side, but today I am merging them. Mary Findley wrote this entertaining and informative post on why emerging authors need you to write a review.

 

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It’s a pain to write reviews. If I liked a book, I liked it. I don’t need to review it. Maybe I’ll tell some friends. Maybe I’ll lend the book to someone else. And it sounds stupid to say, “This book was great! I loved it!” What good does that do anyone? Other readers don’t care about reviews. They pick a book because they get pulled in by the cover, they’re a fan of the genre, or a friend or some bigshot blogger they follow recommended it. Who cares about my little dumb reviews?

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Honestly, I can sympathize with those reasons for not writing a review. But I’m still going to shoot them down and give you some help to understand why every time you read a book but don’t review it, you are sucking just a little bit of life out of that author. If people keep taking these attitudes and not writing reviews, eventually, those authors will die, in a publishing sense. Their books will receive little attention and that’s death for a book and for its author. He really can’t keep his story alive by himself. He needs your help.

  1. “It’s a pain to write a review.” No, it’s not. It’s easy. I even gave you a pattern in a previous blog post. Take a look, follow the steps, and voila! The review is done before you know it. Here’s that link.  https://elkjerkyforthesoul.wordpress.com/2012/02/09/how-to-write-a-book-review-the-author-will-love/
  2. “Maybe I’ll tell some friends.” Please, please, do. But imagine how many friends you can tell if you write your opinion down. You can widen your influence and the author’s if you just take those few minutes and write that review.
  3. “It sounds stupid to say. ‘It was great! I loved it’” Maybe it does to you, but it sounds like music to the author. It’s like water on brown grass. It’s like food to an author’s empty stomach. Be that water. be that food. Say whatever you can say. Write whatever you can write. Just go there and do that review thing!
  4. “Other readers don’t care about reviews.” You might be surprised by how many do. Many people read reviews before deciding to buy a book. If there aren’t many, they might skip on to one that has some.
  5. “Who cares about my dumb little reviews?” But there’s another reason to give an author reviews. It helps give his book reality and credibility with sites where he might want to promote it. Real, genuine reviews are like seeds. They multiply opportunities for an author to get known, get read, and get more sales. You can help in this way that costs you so little. You can help a lot.

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I, as an author care about your reviews. They’re not dumb. They’re your thoughts and feelings. People who put their thoughts and feelings into writing a book welcome feedback. What’s the point in writing a book if no one cares enough to share their thoughts about it? I look at my beloved children, my books that I worked on to produce. I think, when some have ten or more reviews, and some have one or two, or even none, that nobody loves those children. Nobody cares about them, so it must be nobody cares about me either. And I wither a little. I get thirstier, and hungrier, and I die a little.

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I failed to mention one thing about reviews. They don’t have to be good ones. Sure, parents want everyone to love their kids, but if you’ve got constructive criticism on why a book isn’t what you hoped it would be, put that down, too. Don’t think all we want is a string of fives and maybe a few fours. Lay it out there — what you liked and what you didn’t. If we think our books are perfect, we need your humbling. We need your honesty. Help us be better authors. Even if we don’t do a rewrite of that book, it might help us do the next one better.

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So help us. That’s what reviews are really all about. We are flowers. Water us, feed us, encourage us, pinch off our dead blooms and help us grow new ones. Don’t let our books and our fire to write die in discouragement and dim corners. Shine a light on them. we need your help. We can’t do this alone. We are only the authors. You are the readers.

When you write a review, you become a “patron of the arts.” and you don’t have to donate $100.00 to be listed -Onisha

Source: Review Or Die! (Not you, the Reader — the Author) | Elk Jerky for the Soul

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Perfect Love Casts Out Fear~Part 2

21 Mar

Beach

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and Artist

 

You unlocked the park’s bathroom door and stepped out into a cloudy day. You heard sea gull’s caa-caaing and the shushing of the surf. You climbed the stairs of the boardwalk. You then removed your sandals and rolled up your pants legs. When you started walking and felt the roughness of the old boards, you recalled the time when you ran a hand over a shuffleboard table and got attacked by a splinter. Now you watched where you walked because you didn’t want any more wood injuries.

It is hard for you to write these things because you’re afraid people will judge you for your fears. In my reality, though, rear is common to almost all men and women. Does not my word contain at least 365 references to that state of being?

When you stepped off the boardwalk and onto the cool sand, you saw large and small footprints. You saw ruts where folks’ toes dug in as they ran. Because the fisher- folk were to the right, you decided to walk in that direction. If it seemed appropriate you could ask the folks who had their poles stuck in the sand: “What’s biting, and what are they biting on?” All eyes, however, stared at the shivering lines as if mesmerized. All along you thought fishing was a serious enterprise and now you knew it truly was.

You continued toward the old launch pad, which had once held a giant gantry atop a multi-story, tracked, crawler- transporter that which had carried the 363 foot tall Apollo/Saturn V launch vehicle to launches. You recalled the time when Bill got you a pass to go all the way out to the space center with three other worker’s wives to watch a launch. You’ll never forget the giant countdown clock in front of the visitor’s gallery close to Vertical Assembly Building (VAB).

In your mind’s eye, as you walked, you envisioned a vehicle set to go. A column of smoke billowed from the flame-trench underneath. But the Saturn V did not move. Was something wrong? At T minus zero seconds, after full power on all five 1st stage rocket engines had been verified, the swing arms retracted and the vehicle began to rise. When the sound and vibration reached you it was like a continuous thunder clap echoing off the walls of the VAB. You felt the pulsations inside your body. You looked up and saw fire-tinted clouds boiling underneath the Saturn V as it began to leave the earth. It was such an awesome combination of sight and sound that you wanted to laugh, to shout, and to cry all at the same time.

Soon your mind-video ended and you were back on the quiet beach. Now you looked down at the foam scalloping the shore and lapping at your feet. The air felt humid, and the sand undulated like miniature hills. You leaned against a hearty wind and held on to your wide-brimmed hat as you continued down the beach.

After about fifteen minutes, you turned back toward the boardwalk. You asked yourself why you had come. The only reason thing you could think of was because you remembered being there with your children and grandchildren. All at once you remember being afraid for the children and the not wanting to take your eyes off them. The boardwalk was far away. You turned around and headed back. You climbed the stairs, put on your shoes, and rolled down your jeans.

 

My Beloved Child, hear me in this:

The world is afraid, it has always been afraid. The terrorists can’t take credit for it. You will see the phrase, terror of the night in my word along with a promise that you will not be overcome by it. You needed to come here today, so you could capture those fearful thoughts and memories and let me erase them for you, never to be remembered again. Fear, my dear, is the direct opposite of love. The world, the flesh, and the devil, are the unholy trinity, the enemy. You do not belong to these. You are mine I have called you by my name. You’re “designed for peak happiness, thinking, and health,” (Dr. Caroline Leaf.) I will never, never, ever leave you or forsake you, not for any reason. I have prepared a place for you and I’ll help you move into it now.

 

 Dr. Caroline Leaf 

 

 

 

 

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The Cruise of a Lifetime~Part 6

20 Mar

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

JUDY

 

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After we found “the door,”

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we walked some more of the town and found a Jewish area that included a garden and some tombstones. We took pictures of some of them. We had never found this area before in all the times we had visited there.

When we lived in Germany, we were occasionally stopped by Germans on the street and asked for directions – in German! Apparently we looked the part! Made us feel pretty good, not to be ugly Americans. All that to say that, as we walked out on the “Pinocchio” part of Rothenburg, I heard “Entschuldigen…Entschuldigen!” (Excuse me…excuse me!). A German couple wanted directions to a café. They seemed a bit put-off when I said – in German – that I only knew it a little German. After they moved on I turned to Fred and said, “we’ve still got it!” Yea!

Rothenberg is part of the “Romantic Road” through southern Germany…”linking a number of picturesque towns and castles. In medieval times it was a trade route that connected the center of Germany with the south. Today this region is thought by many international travelers to possess “quintessentially German” scenery and culture, in towns and cities such as Nördlingen, Dinkelsbühl  and in castles such as Burg Harburg and the famous Neuschwanstein.” (courtesy Wikipedia)

Again from Wikipedia: In March 1945 in World War II, German soldiers were stationed in Rothenburg to defend it. On March 31, bombs were dropped over Rothenburg by 16 planes, killing 37 people and destroying 306 houses, 6 public buildings, 9 watchtowers, and over 2,000 feet of the wall. The U.S Assistant Secretary of War John McCloy knew about the historic importance and beauty of Rothenburg, so he ordered US Army General Jacob L. Devers not to use artillery in taking Rothenburg. Battalion commander Frank Burke ordered six soldiers of the 12th Infantry Regiment, 4th Division to march into Rothenburg on a three-hour mission and negotiate the surrender of the town. When stopped by a German soldier, Private Lichey who spoke fluent German and served as the group’s translator, held up a white flag and explained, “We are representatives of our division commander. We bring you his offer to spare the city of Rothenburg from shelling and bombing if you agree not to defend it. We have been given three hours to get this message to you. If we haven’t returned to our lines by 1800 hours, the town will be bombed and shelled to the ground.”  The local military commander gave up the town, ignoring the order of Adolf Hitler for all towns to fight to the end and thereby saving it from total destruction by artillery. American troops occupied the town on April 17, 1945. After the war, the residents of the city quickly repaired the bombing damage. Donations for the rebuilding were received from all over the world.

We walked back to the bus and drove back to Würtzburg.

As it had been a rather long day, I decided to go back with the bus to the ship, while Fred toured the Würtzburg Residence. Fred said later that, while it was most interesting, there were a lot of stairs, and I would have been uncomfortable. So, again, it’s a good thing I did not go on that excursion.

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Dinner with the Richard, Judy and Lucy again. 10 o’clock to bed.

 

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

Here are some interesting shots of Rothenburg:

 

 

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