A LOGOPHILE WRITES

 If given the chance, anyone could complain about something. No one's life is perfect. At least, I hope not, because if everyone else but me is living a perfect life, then I think I'd be inclined to harbor a bit of indignation and jealousy. At any rate, I could definitely compile a lengthy list of reasons to complain. But as I once heard someone say, "life is so much more than the bad things that happen to me." So instead of hard things, I've compiled a list of very happy things that convince me I'm living my best life.  In no particular order, they are as follows ...  Laundry. Sorted piles of dirty clothes, the churning of the washer, the white noise of the dryer; those are some of my favorite things. Even happier is the soft, fresh smell of soap and the warmth of the clean clothes. All the neatly folded piles at the end always invite a satisfied sigh. I wish I could do laundry every day! But alas, two people don't make that much. My favorite load of laun...

I don’t remember how long ago it was when I discovered I was allergic to cashews. Not dangerously allergic; just annoying itchy. (If you know, you know. And if you don’t know, don’t try to find out.) So for years, I have avoided them in trail mixes and anywhere else they are commonly found. One or two is fine, but I always know if I eat too many.  I know a whole handful of others who avoid them as well and for the exact same reason as me. I used to wonder why they caused such an odd, singular symptom. When I did some research, I learned a very interesting thing.  Cashews aren’t part of a nut family. They are part of the anacardiaceae family. And guess what? The most commonly known plant in that family is poison ivy. Yeah, poison ivy!! Being in this same family means that cashews are covered in urushiol; the same oil on the poison ivy plant that people react to.  When I first read this several years ago, everything started to make sense.  Cashews must be roasted to e...

I thought I liked thunderstorms.  That is, until I was alone with one.  I guess I wasn't technically alone. We have good neighbors within walking distance from us. But being the only person in a large, echoey three-story house is pretty much being alone.  It was evening, and I was working on supper. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. Lately, I've been feeling like I could do better making a nice evening meal, and that day I was determined to do it right. (Not only that, but all the food would turn out perfectly as well. That's been a struggle too, but Eric would say I'm just being too much of a perfectionist.) While I mixed up the meatloaf, I saw rain pouring on the mountain range in the distance. One of my favorite things is to watch the rain move across the mountain in beautiful sheets. Occasional rumbles of thunder made it through the kitchen window. Thunderstorms are oddly relaxing. They ARE! But sometimes just at a distance.  I stepped outside on the porch...

Last evening, I walked out of my bedroom to head downstairs. There was Anthony leaning over the stair railing and blowing scores of bubbles into the empty space where the staircase descended beneath him. Aside from the fact that he was dripping bubble solution all over the stairs, it was a happy sight.  As I watched him momentarily, an evening from last summer flashed to my memory with vivid color and detail. And I remembered. I remembered that after that evening, I had planned to sit down and write it all down. But life moved on, and I had nearly forgotten that whole beautiful evening.  It was June. I'm sure it was. The weather was sweet and warm. I was living my best life at Faith Mission Home and intentionally soaking up every precious moment because I knew I was soon going to be leaving. That evening, I had the late shift which meant I was in charge of our eleven girls from 4:00-8:00.  Supper was over, and the girls were beginning to settle down and entertain themselv...

O so  softly  and sacredly  silent. Oh so magical,  mysterious, and mesmerizing. Detailed and delicate, frosted and frozen. Crystalized creations  from  the  hand  of  God.   Falling  and  floating,     glowing     and   glistening -  down - ward  they  come.     Heavenly  hexagons blending and merging, together creating  a world of white. Perfectly pure,  frozen beauty : the sn ow .

We think of shepherds and flocks of sheep as an ancient lifestyle and career. But I just read about Someone who still shepherds a flourishing flock of sheep. In fact, He's not too far away from where you're reading this right now. Let me tell you a story about Him.  It was a beautiful spring day. The air was warm but not hot, and the sun cast golden rays through the late morning air. The silent hush of morning was broken not only by the singing of birds but by distinct sounds of a traveler ambling down the deserted road.  This dusty path was well-worn, but those who traveled it most were thieves and robbers. The wilderness offered a safe place for the guilty to retreat in hopes of escape and because of it's reputation, this road was rarely traveled by the innocent. But not today.  This morning, a young traveler was strolling down the road. His eyes were bright and observant. His feet were steady and moved with purpose. Occasionally, he stopped to inspect a plant by the ed...

        The last miracle,               the last message,                    the last supper. The only begotten Son came. He left heaven. He came to earth. Face to face with humanity:          with brokenness               with filth                    with darkness. Jesus came face to face with humanity : with the souls He helped His Father create : with the souls He helped form in the womb.          Created.               Chosen.                    Destined. He left heaven to hug them. He left heaven to heal them. Then He left earth to save them.          Separation.          ...

Writing takes time. And time is a precious thing. What happens when one wishes to write but finds no time to do so? I don't know either. Maybe one day I will. Regardless, I found some time! And I'm so happy to be here.  I was trying to decide what to write about. First of all, I thought I would discourse on blood because I just got done learning about it in my studies and found it to be such a fascinating thing. (I also just assumed the general public would all be interested too.) But then I decided I would share some thoughts I've been rolling around in my head after a very inspirational message at church the other Sunday. Eventually, I decided to go back to my original idea and talk about that substance that keeps us alive. I feel the need to explain something about myself right off the bat. (Maybe I'm just trying to be defensive and explain why I've found such a fascination with blood lately so hopefully you still think I'm normal.) I am a very curious person...

There is a story told about a group of women who were having a study on the book of Malachi. When they got to the third chapter, they read these words in verse three. "He will sit as a refiner and a purifier of silver; He will purify the sons of Levi." The questions began to flow. What does it mean to purify silver? What does it mean to sit as a refiner and purifier of silver? One of the ladies spoke up. "I'll study and do some research this week," she said. "And when we get together for the next study, I'll let you know what I found.  The next day, she called a local silversmith and wondered if she could come watch him work. "I'd like to observe the process of purifying silver," she explained without giving any further details or bothering to explain her reasoning. He warmly invited her to come over.  Soon, she was walking into his shop. Despite the cool breezes wafting through the open building, the heat from the roaring fire was oppress...

Perspective. It's a powerful thing. It shapes the way we view circumstances, people, events, and quite honestly all of life. It's easy to keep the same perspective the whole way through life without even realizing it. And while that's not necessarily a bad thing, changing viewpoints occasionally can result in beautiful outcomes.  Technology demonstrated this when cameras were able to speed life up significantly. In several seconds, we can now watch a flower opening its petals, the stars traveling across the sky throughout the course of a night, or clouds moving through the sky while morphing and merging in a beautiful dance. This fresh perspective gives us a broader understanding of how things work, and we get a clearer glimpse at the big picture. Life can be significantly slowed down as well. There are slow motion clips of a bird in motion, raindrops hitting a water's surface, or lightning splitting the sky. Characteristics that are often hidden by the speed of life be...

Last week, I went on a mission to renew my CPR/First Aid/AED certification. It began with 200 minutes of online reading, videos, and practice exercises. I was awarded a temporary certification. And on Saturday, I met with my assigned instructor and three other strangers to complete the rest of my homework.  Our next two hours of in-person classwork were fun ones.  I became acquainted with a man and his 17 year old daughter. (Come to think of it, we never did proper introductions, so I have no idea what their names were.) They were very interactive and asked good questions. They also added funny comments to the discussion. While practicing all our newly acquired skills, they were a team. The other participant was a man in his upper 20's with a bald head, pale skin, and round glasses. He is a teacher at a local school, he lives within several miles from my house, and that's all I know about him.  (Oh, except that he appeared to have arrived early for the purpose of inhaling...

 Last August, I was privileged to be part of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Thirteen of the Faith Mission staff were assigned a student. Then we hopped on a big bus and went on a five day tour. Okay, wait. It wasn't quite that simple. :-)  Twice a year, Faith Mission Home initiates what we call Program Trip. A small group of staff - typically the ones who have served there the longest - are invited to go. Then, they are assigned to a student for the entire five days. A repertoire is formed, and the group meets daily for three weeks to practice. Once completed, the group travels to several different churches to share what they've rehearsed. The tour is by no means an attempt at performance; we were far from professional! Instead, it's an opportunity to sing about heaven and the love of Jesus with our special needs students and to raise an awareness about what we do at Faith Mission Home. Those who go on Program Trip focus less on music notes and harmonizing than they do on...