Friday, July 31, 2026

The Only One of Their Kind

    We recently lost a family at our church. Not misplaced lost, left loss. They came to us, along with some other families, after the small church they were attending disbanded. I knew from the beginning that they would not stay. Not that they were unfriendly, thought we were, or disagreed with our doctrine, their family was just the only one of their kind. It is one of those families where the mother is perpetually pregnant, the wife and daughters have long hair and always wear dresses, the husband and sons wear vests and/or ties to church. Their sons are named for Bible characters, their daughters for Bible virtues. The kids had to stay in the auditorium when the other kids were dismissed for junior church. I knew someday the older children would start questioning why they had to do things the other church kids do not. And those questions are still going to come up. I am familiar with the church they are now attending and they are probably the only one of their kind there too.
    There is nothing wrong with the standards they hold to as a family, but there is nothing right about them either--biblically speaking. As a parent who has launched children into adulthood, I learned that everything families and churches add to the simple truth of the Bible is a liability. One preacher I heard called it inoculating our children against the gospel. Adding human requirements to biblical salvation by grace through faith diminishes the both authority of the Bible and the sufficiency of Christ's sacrifice. Asking questions is part of the process of young adults making their family's faith their own. If the answer to why we practice Christianity the way we do is not found in the Bible, parents are left with nothing to say. I have seen three basic responses from these kids when they leave home: Some of them (daughters probably) will practice their faith the way they were raised, others will reject the family standards but keep the Savior, and sadly, some will decide neither the family standards nor the Bible matter and reject all of it.  
    They are a nice family. I hope it goes well for them at the new church they are attending, but I do not expect them to stay there long. The problem with setting the behavior bar "higher" than the Lord does, is that it is lonely at the top. No matter how loving and accepting a church body may be, it is hard for such families to feel supported when they are the only one of their kind.

When My Turn Comes

    Our parents are facing the dreaded duty of downsizing from their homes of many years. It is a task we will also face someday and I am already not a fan. If it was only deciding what will be needed at the next place we live, that would be hard enough, even if we knew exactly where we were moving to. But when each of those belongings in question are linked to a lifetime of memories, it will be infinitely harder. I have learned that the first thing I will need to discard is the expectation that my children will want my stuff. I already know they do not. My daughter is a minimalist, getting rid of unneeded objects is a lifestyle for her. Good thing we don't live at her house. Tracy was my only sentimental child. He kept a box of favorite childhood toys that is still stored at our house, but I have not had the heart, or courage, to look through it.
   And it is okay that our kids do not want our stuff because the Lord helped me realize that He allows us the ability to collect and accumulate things that please us, for our lifetime. He gives our children, and will give their children, things that are meaningful to them. What people choose to collect or display in their home is a matter of preference, not heredity. There was no genetic reason for me to like retro tins (which I stopped collecting years ago, but well meaning friends keep giving me) and I have is no reason, or even desire, to expect my kids to carry on the tradition. So, if the collection of little girl figurines I bought for Britten's birthdays until her teens brought me pleasure, they have fulfilled the purpose God gave them for. I bought them in honor of my daughter, not for her. 
    When I collected Christmas ornaments for each of my children while they were growing up, I thought they would want to take them when they had homes of their own. I was wrong. Tracy might have wanted his, but could not take them to his home in heaven. Meanwhile, it brings me comfort to hang his ornaments on the little tree we dedicate to his memory at Christmas. Britten does not want her ornaments and, though I haven't thrown them away yet, I also do not put them on our tree. Will did not want his ornaments either, but his wife did, and I get to see them on their tree every Christmas. I now collect ornaments for my grandchildren knowing full well that they may not want them when they leave home. 
    We hope to enjoy our current home for years to come, if only to reap the benefits of recent remodeling projects, so we can kick the can on some of those what to keep/what to throw decisions for a while. But someday it will be our turn to open those boxes in the basement--vinyl music albums, no longer used dishes/bedding/clothing, our kids school work, and various things we kept, not because we needed them, but because we forgot about them. Hard as it will be to let those treasured time capsules go, downsizing is not just to make leaving our home less hassle for our grown children, it is part of our stewardship of the blessings God chose for us. The final part. Among the things I know about downsizing, is that I will not have it down pat, when my turn comes.
    The tangible things I want my children to have, and have already given them (like it or not), are my poetry books. Whether they choose to read them is up to them, but if they ever want to know what I felt, thought, laughed at, loved, those memories live in my books. The legacy I most want to leave to my children is intangible--my trust in Jesus, love for them, attempts to make some days special, and laughter. And I know by the way they serve God, raise their children, and live their lives, they already possess that.



Saturday, July 18, 2026

Proverbs 31, My Best 3 out of 20

    I shared this devotional at a bridal shower this morning and, since I have not posted a blog for a month, I will recycle it here. The names are changed to keep me innocent of posting this without asking their permission.

                                        Proverbs 31 My Best 3 out of 20 

     Evelyn, I realize most of us at Central Bible don’t know you very well, but you are marrying an Oak-ling and that makes you part of the CBC family and, as family members, we may feel comfortable giving you unasked for advice about marriage. Today I’m going to share a little from the painfully familiar passage Proverbs 31:10-31. I’ve titled this message Proverbs 31, My Best 3 out of 20. I admit that I have a love/hate relationship with this passage about the virtuous woman. Most of its aspirations are beyond me. When it says: A wife of noble character who can find? I think maybe we should lower the bar or at least, dim the lights. There are a few of its 21 verses where I feel I might measure up, but most of them—not so much. For instance, I am so craft impaired they should give me a special license plate, so making things to sell, spinning wool, sewing clothes and making bed coverings like the wife in Proverbs is not going to happen. I also kill plants so there would be no point in me buying a vineyard. I count on the grocery stores to bring my food from afar, but I am willing to shop a little farther from home for a better sale price. I am not a sleepless wonder woman whose lamp doesn’t go out at night, but I will stay up late to have good food prepared for my family and others. And I would dearly love to have her female servants/maidens to assign tasks to, especially cleaning. I also have to admit that I sometimes eat the bread of idleness, although it is more likely to be a cookie. I’m sure you are more gifted in some of those areas than I am, Evelyn, almost anyone would be. But within those few verses I don’t feel as intimidated by, there are some good takeaways for a woman heading into the unknown territory of marriage. 

vs. 11 (Amp) The heart of her husband trusts in her confidently and relies on and believes in her securely, so that he has no lack of honest gain or need of dishonest spoil. I don’t know how you and James will set up your household, but in ours, I am the one who pays the bills. For 49 years Reed’s paycheck, and now Social Security, have gone into our checking account and he has never worried that our bills go will unpaid or that I am using the money selfishly or unwisely. His confidence in me makes me feel like I'm actually fulfilling this verse. In most couples one is the saver, one is the spender. This provides balance but also some ballistics. Reed entered our marriage with the attitude I’ll commit to buy something and figure out how to pay for it later. In my experience growing up, money did not appear just because you needed it. I was the frugality freak. However, I did not have to convert Reed to my point of view, I was putting him through school and our budget did that all by itself. In later years, when Reed served on boards, he was the member saying show me the money before they made a commitment. Confidence comes from knowing as a couple you are working together toward the same financial goals. The family you’re marrying into may be free spirits, but everything else requires money. 

vs. 12 (Amp) She comforts, encourages, and does him only good as long as there is life within her. I’m not sharing this verse because I aced this one, but because God used it to smack me in the head. I realized that part of what I was doing when I was listening to my husband talk, was looking for openings to slip in helpful suggestions for improving him. Not only was I not doing good to my husband, I had turned him into a remodeling project and myself into the Holy Spirit’s little helper. I am sure at this point, Evelyn, that you think James is perfect and wouldn’t change a thing. I’m just letting you know that a few years down the line, you may start thinking of ways to improve on perfection. So this is your distant early warning that if the Spirit of God needs your help or suggestions for changing your husband, He will let you know.
    There are many ways you can comfort and encourage your husband, but I have found the thing a man most longs to hear is that you respect him. I wrote a poem for my father-in-law’s memorial called "Quiet Men" I won’t read it here today, but it is a tribute to him and the many men like him who quietly fulfill the responsibilities God has given them without recognition, simply because it is the right thing to do. After the service, an older gentleman came up to me with tears in his eyes, he said, “Thank you. I didn’t know if anyone saw.” Give James the gift of being seen “as long as there is life within you.” 

vs. 25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. I’m not sure how well I fit the strength and dignity clothes, but laughter is my heart language. And I could tell by the pictures James posted of the male members of the wedding party, that he is fluent in it also. Your wedding vows should be taken seriously, but your life together should be well lubricated with laughter—at yourself especially. I had a lot of mishaps when I was first learning to cook. My first attempt at bread dough over 50 years ago is probably still sitting in a landfill in Salem, OR, impenetrable as stone. Those early failures made me want to throw stones. Later, I decided there were no failures in the kitchen, only a lack of creative names. The dinner isn’t burned, it’s blackened. The pie that falls apart when you serve it, is now cobbler. And any cake can be upside down cake in the right circumstances. Don’t beat yourself up if you let your latte take a ride on top of your car, or look around for where you left your phone while it is still in your pocket. Laugh about it. And frankly, laughter is the only way to survive raising those adorable sinners we call children.

    There are many voices even in Christian media trying to convince us to fear the future. They would tell you that beginning a marriage in times like this, and someday bringing children into our sinful culture, is foolish. But actually, it is an act of faith. God is just as sovereign over the planet now as He ever was, and He has never rescinded his command to be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, although that last mandate needs to be a group effort. Strength comes from fearlessly following God into the future. Dignity comes from being unashamed of trusting Him. Laughter comes from finding joy in the life God has given you . . . even when it takes courage to find it. And in the spirit of laughter, I will share one of my favorite poems.

 Partners 
 
I knew when I signed on with the Lamb outfit
that the fella I would be partnered with was only green broke,
but I took the job anyway.
I was sorta a hand between brands at the time
and didn’t cotton to the idea of riding alone.
Some can do it, but it’s wearisome
and even dangerous. 
 
It was hard work and the wages weren’t much,
but I was used to that. I’m a fair hand at fixing grub,
if I do say so myself, so we always ate good.
And, most of the time, we made ourselves
a snug place to sleep at night.
Although, some of the storms we got caught in
were real gully washers.
 
Outside of the occasional head butting
all partners do, we got along pretty well.
Still do actually. I settled in there at the
Double L and never got the itch to move on.
I may not have him all the way saddle broke,
but I’ll stay where I’m at,
a good partner can be hard to find. 

                          May God bless you and your partner-James-in the many years to come. 

 

 

Saturday, June 27, 2026

The Law of Diminishing Returns

    Most of us have heard of the law of diminishing returns. I first learned about it in a lecture regarding physical intimacy. If the relationship moves from the holding hands stage to hugging, going back to just holding hands will not be satisfying enough. If it moves from hugging to kissing, hugging will not be enough. If it moves from kissing to you know what, kissing won't provide (as the song says) no satisfaction. You can guess why this particular precept might be shared with dating couples at a Bible college.            
    Addiction follows the same pattern. The amount of alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling, etc. that is required to be satisfying keeps increasing. But addictions are obviously harmful, what about other things with diminishing returns that I (for some reason) see ads for regularly--like beauty products for aging women. After a point, such efforts are all buck and no bang. The spokes-model looks like a geisha and the actual users look like slightly less wrinkled prunes. If the promised "measurable results" are only detectable with lab equipment, unless I plan to carry the findings with me, my beauty secret will remain a secret beauty.
    Safety requirements are also subject to the law of diminishing returns, especially in organizations with permanent safety officers. At first they offer sensible ideas about using and storing tools, equipment, chemicals etc. These are easy to obey because individuals with a detectable I.Q. are motivated toward their own well being anyway. However, when workers gather in groups, the I.Q. is divided into the lowest common denominator, men might decide to show off, women can become "unruly". Groups need safety rules. And, since every group has at least one score-keeping, rule-nazi, narc in it, it is easier to just follow them. The workplace has become safer, but the safety officer still has to justify their job by looking for remote remnants of risk.
     Now for the one most annoying to Reed--safety systems. Safety systems, the insurance approved ideal/idol of many aviation businesses, are even worse. Not only are they grasping as safety straws to find risk, nearly all of their edicts make the workplace less efficient. Since their entire business model is based on continually coming up with additional safety measures, eventually they are making mandates about not drying your hair in the microwave or how to operate a stapler, as if the employees do not have the sense God gave a mud puddle. And frankly, "puddle" people don't bother to read them. Someone else reads the regs to them while they wait for the EMT's to show up.  
    When Solomon wrote, "of the making of books there is no end," it was a complaint not a commendation. Making endless regulations ought to be against the law, actually it is--the law of diminishing returns

 

 

Thursday, June 25, 2026

49 Years Ago Today

    We did not deliberately choose the 100th anniversary of the Custer Massacre to get engaged. For one thing Custer's Last Stand is not a big deal in Oregon, where we lived at the time. For another, both Reed's proposal and my acceptance were unrehearsed and spontaneous. Even Custer could have made a better plan. But perhaps that doomed engagement date explains the series of mishaps that occurred a year later on our wedding day. Thankfully, only vehicles were massacred. I know the big celebration, the Golden anniversary, is reserved for the 50th, and I think Reed and I will manage to make it one more year. But 49ers is more fun to say and filled with double meanings so that's what this poem is about.    

 

  49 Years Ago Today 

Today we are officially 49ers--
not the NFL kind, the padding
we have put on through the years
has nothing to do with football.
49 years ago today, Reed and I entered
the unexplored frontier of marriage.
We were looking for gold.
 
We had glimpsed gold dust before,
but the longer we sought for the source,
the deeper and richer the gold became. 
One promising vein played out
far sooner than expected, but we know
it is resting deeper in the Master's mine
and someday we will find it again. 
 
Other seams divided into veins
even more robust than the originals.
And the gold we have mined on earth 
will become unimaginable riches
once it is refined by the Master.
The Golden anniversary is the 50th, 
but we struck gold 49 years ago, today.
 
 6/25/26 
 
 
  
 

 

Monday, June 22, 2026

Using Things Up

      If our small group knew how much of the bountiful buffet we offer our guests was driven by what I need to use up in the fridge, they would be less impressed. My menu is often a combination of remnants in the refrigerator plus recipes. Since the internet offers an endless source of recipes, all I have to do is look up, for instance, appetizers using ham. The cookies I made this week, chocolate raspberry bars, are an example of both using up and substituting what I have on hand. My main goal was to use some of the huge tub of spreadable cream cheese my friend gave me to go with the croissants she brought over. It was a very kind gesture, I love croissants, but cream cheese has always grossed me out. I think of it as an ingredient, not a food. I cook with it, but I can barely look at it and hate to get it on my hands. The Costco tub she brought would be a lifetime supply for me. However, since I discovered spreadable cream cheese can sub for the regular bricks, I now plan slip it harmlessly into recipes that hide the taste and texture.
    Now back to the cookies, the middle layer of the bar cookies was cream cheese mixed with melted white chocolate chips. Perfect, I had some aging white chips I needed to use up, so this would be the culinary version of killing two birds with one stone. However, the recipe called for one cup and I only had one third. Then I remembered a trail mix I had on hand contained white yogurt chips. Close enough. So I nicked all the chips from the mix to use for the cookies. That still only made one half cup, but since the goal is just to sweeten the cream cheese layer, I figured that was close enough too.
    I did not have the seedless raspberry jelly the recipe called for, but I had been looking for a way to use the strawberry spread I bought mostly because it was on sale. Strawberry spread instead of raspberry jelly? Close enough. The other thing I needed to use up was half a can of chocolate fudge frosting. I don't usually buy canned frosting either, but it was on sale for a buck. You may notice a recurring theme here. The recipe called for melting chocolate chips to make a glaze, instead I zapped the chocolate frosting to make it softer. Close enough. 
    The chocolate raspberry bars turned out delicious despite the deviations. And as for my goal of using things up--this time I actually finished off three birds with one stone.

 

Sunday, June 21, 2026

Being a Dad

     I make cards on a Hallmark computer program that enables me to customize. This year I decided the Father's Day card I made for Reed should include a poem. The poem is bittersweet, as all things have been since Trace died, but by God's grace, the sweet is gradually overtaking the bitter.
 
Being a Dad 
 
I wondered how you would take to it 
       . . . being a Dad.
You didn't have the advantage I did, 
of feeling your child inside you.
Our daughter was not as real to you
until she was born, 
and the nurses could barely
pry her out of your arms. 
 
Years later, on your arm,
walking her down the aisle 
I saw the look on your face--
you did not want to "give her away"
more like get her away 
from this barely grown groom
who dared to take her
from our home.
 
Will introduced me to the 
mysterious world of sons,
where you knew better than I
what to expect. Although Will
seldom behaved as expected.
And we realized Will should have been
his middle name, his first name
should have been Strong. 
 
Then came Tracy, who inherited
my compassion, your skills,
and from both sides of our family,
a predisposition to addiction. 
He shared so much with me, 
but in the hardest failures of his life
turned to you, and you were there
  . . . being a Dad. 
 
Father's Day 2026