Fall Equi"not"

    Montana and the calendar are not always in sync with when the seasons are supposed to begin and end. Winter starts sooner and lasts longer than it's allotted three months, spring lops over into summer, making summer that much shorter. But fall, fall comes right on time, again not by the official calendar, but when I think it should, just after Labor Day. Fall comes when the scent of corn dogs has faded from the fairgrounds, when the sound of school bells or sirens remind me I actually have to slow down in school zones again, when the sun streaming in the window is a welcome friend, instead of the enemy I worked so hard to banish with shades during the summer.  Autumn in Montana is like biting into a sun sandwich, a thick warm slice of afternoon between refreshing layers of cold. The leaves change and so do I, from long sleeves in the morning to short sleeves in the afternoon and back to long sleeves again for the evening.
    Autumn is a perfect balance of beginnings and endings. The beginning of the school year, the end of summer vacation. The beginning of harvest, the end of growing season. Rest for the farmers and their fields, the trees and the grass, the parents whose children were home all summer.  Fall embodies the crunch of apples and leaves, the smell of smoke, the multi-colored splendor of the turning leaves juxtaposed with the muscle soreness of gathering up the deserters. According to calendar, today is the equinox, but I think autumn should begin wherever it falls.            












  

Sovereignty "Seuss"ily

      Sovereignty, despite its fancy spelling, is not a complicated doctrine. It simply means that what God says will happen, happens. Children get it. It is we adults who don't understand. We see the evil in the world around us and doubt God's plan. That is why we worry. Worry is one of those pardonable sins in Christian circles, especially now that we have 24 hour access to programming designed to make us worry, but it is actually a serious offense. Worry is slander against God. It is a statement that God is either not strong enough, or not good enough, to take care of us. So I state sovereignty simply, in Seussical style.

God is sovereign. God is good.

His plans all happen as they should.

He works His will when men obey.

He tells them what to do and say.

He works His will through wicked men

who laugh at God and hate His plan.

They cannot change what God will do.

I don't think they should try. Do you?

Why do we worry, fuss and fret

when our desires have not been met?

Christians should not fear and mope
and live as if we had no hope.

God's plans work out the way they should
for God is sovereign, God is good.

10 Reasons Why I Don't Worry

1.  God is sovereign. He is in control, regardless of how a a situation seems.
2.  God is all powerful. Which is why He can be in control.
3.  God is good. Which makes #2 not so terrifying.
4.  God commands us not to. I recommend obeying. See #2 again.
5.  It does not help. I have never heard of a situation improved by worrying.
6.  It maligns God. That is bad. Again #2.
7.  It negates our witness for Christ. If God left us on earth to be a witness and we are doing a poor job, He may put us in His relocation program.
8. I have people for that. Since I have friends who worry on a semi-professional basis. I tell them the problem, they worry for me.
9. It robs me of joy today and the eternal reward of having trusted God. Why should I steal from myself?
10. God is sovereign. What more can I say?

Willard's Daughter

     In Montana my Dad goes by the name Bill. His actual name is Willard, but that is not as common in Montana as it is in Missouri, and he doesn't want to to be nicknamed Willie, thus the name Bill. So in Montana I am Bill's daughter and in Missouri I am Willard's daughter. It is an honor to be identified this way because Willard is well thought of in his home state. I know this because I am in Missouri with him now, as I was five years ago, and as we were about every three years throughout my childhood, despite the expense involved in getting our family of six from Montana to Missouri. Dad's determination made our paycheck to paycheck purse strings stretch far enough to get there.
     The road must be longer from Missouri to Missoula than the other way around because few of his relatives made it to our house in Montana, but Dad made sure we knew our grandma, aunts, uncles and cousins nonetheless. I am staying at a cousin's house now, so that investment has matured. Dad, a spry 87 years old, believes this may be his last trip to Missouri. I don't yet know if I will have the heart or desire to come here without him but, whether I am in Montana or Missouri, whether he is on earth or in heaven, I will always be proud to be known as Willard's daughter.