One Thing Makes Us Different

You don’t know me, but we are more alike than you think.  I am a son or a daughter, just like you.  I am a mother or a father.  I have a sister and a brother.  I dream of a better future for my children.  I laugh and I cry.  Just like you. If you take the time to reach out, you can touch my hand and feel my warm skin.  We are the same.  But there is something that makes us different, you and I.  There is something that is as big as life and death.  If we are sad, our hearts will ache.  If we are cut, our skin will bleed.  But if we are thirsty, my friend, you will reach for a cup and fill it with cool, refreshing water and I will just be thirsty.  If we are dirty, you will run your hands, your face, your body under a warm shower and I will just be dirty.  You see, my family has no access to clean water.  Do not think that I am unusual; there are 1.2 billion people just like me.  When you feel the strain of a drought in your country, you water your lawn only once a week.  When I feel the strain of a drought, I grieve over a family member who dies from the lack of clean water.  This common, you understand.  Every 22 seconds a child dies from a preventable water-related disease.  Dear Friend, do not throw your hands up in despair.  The problem is real, but the solution is possible.  For $600-$2,000 a low cost well can be dug for my village.  When you reach to turn on your water faucet, please consider reaching out to touch me.  Feel my warm skin, close your eyes and see my smile.  Hear my laugh.  With the help of people like you, people like me can reach for a drink when we are thirsty!  I dream of a life without the needless diseases, a life where my children don’t have to cry for the most basic need: water. Will you join the people at Water4 to reach out and hold my hand and dream with me?

After a Long Break...

After a long break...I am back to blogging.  I "processed" my finger in a food processor and have not been able to type w/out quite a bit of "ouch" involved, so I have not blogged.  I missed some great blogs entries too...or at least I thought they would be.  But I doubt I'll go back and write them...life moves on.  Next I will be posting a short article I wrote for a competition...I'll let you know how I do!  Anyway, it's good to be back in the blogging world...

Dear Hannah Pt. 4

Well, here I sit at home, far away from my first born son.  In my mind’s eye, I imagine you sitting in your home somewhere in the hill country of Ephraim.  It seems to me that a mother’s heart is timeless and not bound by culture or language.  Did you have some of the same feelings I now have? I wonder...  Did you feel that nagging sense of dread mixed with that cautious excitement because you knew what you were doing was right?  Were you brave when you thought you’d be weak, and then did you burst into tears when you least expected it?  That’s what I did all last week when we took our son to his school and got him all set up.

One thing I forgot:  we’d be there on a Sunday.  I brought no clothes at all for the rest of us to attend church.  My eldest, of course, had all his clothes.  His whole life was packed into two bags and a guitar case.  But the rest of us brought only casual clothes.  Thankfully, the international church was a mix of casual and dressy.  As I read over 1 Samuel 1 again, I see that you were prepared.  You brought a rather large sacrifice to Shiloh, along with your son.  And while you were there, getting your son all set up and leaving him there, you worshiped the Lord.

Well, I can tell you that I did not feel like worshiping the Lord that Sunday.  My heart was not in it, though I stood to sing the songs.  And as I did, I worshiped the Lord out of the “bare bones” of my faith.  No warm fuzzy feelings, no big happy smiling, just a faith that what we are doing is right, and a trust that the Lord would take care of my son.  I was praising God because I knew the words were true and I believed them with all my heart, though that same heart was hurting.  It was not worshiping because it felt good, it was worshiping because it is true; and that made it beautiful.  We sang “Sing to the King,” and as I sang, “we belong to Jesus” I realized that we (both my son and I) belong to Jesus.  My son does not belong to me, he belongs to Jesus, as do I.  And the next words were:  “He is all we need.”  Jesus is all my son needs.  Jesus is all I need.

Hannah, you sang a song when you were worshiping.  Somehow, I always assumed that song was sung when Samuel was born.  But you actually sang it when you took Samuel to leave him at the temple.  I have to admit, it doesn’t seem very catchy.  I don’t really get your train of thought either, all that stuff about death and life, rich and poor, starvation and broken bows and thunder and enemies.  Our songs of worship may not have crossed the lines of time, but if our mother hearts do, then I imagine you sang that song out of your bare bones of faith too.  And that’s what makes it beautiful.

We worship God in the easy times.  We worship God in the hard times.

Come let us sing a song, a song declaring we belong to Jesus.  He is all we need!

Our son's school is on the coast.  A beautiful reminder of the greatness of our King!

100th Post

This is my 100th post!  Yea!  I started this blog on November 17, 2010.  I wasn't sure about all this "blog stuff," but I finally gave in and decided to try it out.  It's taken me this long to write 100 posts!

I think I'd say my favorite posts are:
CABIN FEVER
A Clammy Story
Hot Under the Collar
and
My Bucket List

According to the number of visits, I'd say your favorites were:
My Bucket List
The Plight of the Spaghetti Sauce
Dear Hannah
and
And Now for the Inside

I've enjoyed learning about blogging and one of my favorite things to do is see what countries the blog reaches.  So far I've had 7,369 hits from about 38 countries.  My biggest month was March 2012 with 1,042 hits.

So, after a year and a half, I'd say, I enjoy all this "blog stuff."  I think I'll keep doing it...

Thanks for being one of my blog readers!

Dear Hannah Pt. 3

Dear Hannah,

Well, here it is, the day before we head off to take our son to school.  This morning I am struck by a couple of things that you did when you were in my position.  First of all, you stayed home and, as far as I can tell, did your very best to raise Samuel at home to the best of your ability, until you felt he was mature enough to move away.  And when that time came, you didn't change your mind or postpone or back away...you kept your promise (1 Sam. 1:23).  So here it is, the time has come for our family.  I want to move forward and not back away, even if it's hard.

The second thing that struck me is when you said you would, "leave him there with the Lord permanently" (verse 22, NLT).  This was a permanent change for your family.  While you would always be Samuel's mother, and I imagine a big part of his life, the change was big and it was permanent.  I live in a different world than you, Hannah.  I have internet and cell phones and airplanes working in my favor.  But the fact remains that this transition for our family is permanent, things are changing and we'll never go back to the way it was before.  That's a tough pill to swallow (not that you know what pills are).  But here's the other amazing thing about what you said, "leave him there with the Lord."  Our sons are with the Lord permanently.  Hannah, your son was going to live at the temple and be in the Lord's presence permanently.  I know that had to be a comfort for you.  On this side of the Cross of Christ, we have the Holy Spirit who resides in believers permanently.  I am so thankful that my son has the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, that will guide him and be with him PERMANENTLY.  

God says in Isaiah 41:13, "For I hold you by your right hand- I- the Lord your God.  And I say to you, 'Don't be afraid.  I am here to help you."  Of all the things my son is packing to take to school, I am most thankful for the Holy Spirit!

I don't suppose Hannah marked Samuel's clothes, but I had to write my son's name on all of his stuff!

Seriously?  On socks?  He better not lose any of these after all that writing! My suggestion to you?
Name your child using letters that are straight lines and not curvy ones.  You'll thank me later. 

Ahhh, this is better.  Iron-on labels!

I don't suppose Hannah had an electric iron, do you?

Dear Hannah Pt. 2

for Part One (and an explanation on what in the world this letter is about) see Dear Hannah.

Dear Hannah,

As the time for saying goodbye to my son gets close, I find myself wondering what you thought when you were in my position.  Were you like I am? Did you think..."How could something so good be so painful”?  You had asked the Lord for a baby boy and that is exactly what He gave you.  You had promised to give your boy back to the Lord.  Those are good things:  answers from the Lord, promises to the Lord.  Why, then, could they be so painful?  Did you wonder that?  I do.  My son is a gift from the Lord too.  He is a joy in our family and a wonderful part of every one of our days.  We have also dedicated him to the Lord.  Not in as dramatic a way as you, I suppose, but we did stand before a body of believers and promise to raise him in the ways of the Lord.  Our son is strong and healthy and God has prepared him for this new phase of his life.  I imagine you saw that in Samuel as well.

When I read back over your experience, I see that your husband said to you, “may the LORD help you keep your promise.” (1 Samuel 1:23 NLT)  Wow, this is where the rubber meets the road, though in your time, I guess you wouldn’t have understood what that means...I guess it’s where the horse cart wheel hits the cobblestone?  Anyway, did you have second thoughts about your promise?  Did you regret your promise?  If I had a guess, I’d say probably not.  I don’t have second thoughts or regrets about promising to give my son to the Lord.  But I certainly see now that, when it comes down to it, it’s easier said than done!

Another thing I noticed when reading about your experience is that, when you asked God for a son, you prayed to the “Lord of Heaven’s Armies.” (1 Sam. 1:11a, NLT)  When you said, “LORD,” you were calling on Jehovah, Israel’s name for God. (Strong’s Hebrew Dictionary)  When you said, “Heaven’s Armies” (hosts), you were implicating a war, campaign, or hardship.  (Strong’s Hebrew Dictionary)  It’s as if you were calling on God as the KING and MIGHTY GOD of your nation as well as the CAPTAIN of the armies of Heaven itself to answer the desperate, seemingly insignificant prayers of one small, very average woman praying in the temple.  And what happened when you had the audacity to approach the throne of Heaven with your silly little request and promise?  The KING OF HEAVEN’S ARMIES agreed!  And this same JEHOVAH is Who helped your keep your promise. 

Well, Hannah, I like the idea of an army keeping watch over my son!  So, if you could do it, so can I!  I will keep my promise to God “even when it hurts” (Psalm 15:4b).  I will call on the LORD of Heaven’s Armies to help me keep my promise.  If He gave strength to an average Jewish mom living out in the hill country of Ephraim, I am sure He will do the same for an average American mom living in the islands of Asia!

My son and I enjoy the calm of a Middle Eastern sunset, only about 150 miles from where Hannah and Samuel lived in the hill country of Ephraim.  Taken about 13 years ago.

The Hunt For H2O2

Dad can't hear a thing!  He needs help!  Kris plays pharmacist and tries to figure out the ratio of water to Super Strength H2O2

We are having a fantastic summer with my parents and my sister & family visiting us.  Unfortunately, my dad has an ear infection.  Go to the doctor?  Ummm, well, we decided it would be better just to get advice from a doctor friend and do the treatment ourselves.  OK, no problem, we bought ear drops and then all we needed was some hydrogen peroxide so he can flush his ears.  Our doctor friend tells us to go to the pharmacy and ask for "H2O2" to get hydrogen peroxide.  OK, so we go.  No H2O2.  OK, we try another pharmacy.  Nope.  Another...nope.  Another...nope.  At the fourth one we got a yes!  Yippee!  They were confused and asked me what we wanted it for, then said all they had was 50% strength.  In the US it is more like 3% or something like that.  OK, I figure we can dilute it, so I say I want it.

"How much?" she asks.

Hmmmm, "About this much...?" I say, holding my hands up to measure the height of a small bottle.  She laughs.  And then I ask, well, how do you measure it?

Finally she asks, "One hundred mililiters or two hundred?"  Ah, there we go, something more specific.  I ask for two hundred.  We sit to wait...wait...people come in...wait...people leave...wait...a car hits a motorcycle over in the street...wow...wait...thirty minutes later a pharmacist comes out to tell us that H2O2 was in the computer, but actually, they don't have it after all.  Hmmm, this is the reverse of the spaghetti sauce incident, very interesting.  We struck out.

Eventually (don't ask how) we end up with a small bottle of...who knows...maybe 50% or maybe100% H2O2.  Yikes.  So Kris and Dad sit down and do the math, how on earth do we make it into 3%?  We get out bottled water, our newly acquired melt-threw-steel-strength hydrogen peroxide, a measuring cup...here goes nothing!  OK, now we've got what we think might possibly be about the right mixture.  I hope so because Dad squeezed it into his ear!!

The next day I asked at three more places, still no hydrogen peroxide.  Who knew it would be so hard to find?  You can ask for prescription strength just about anything and have no problem, but hydrogen peroxide is apparently a no-go!

Our city is a Bring-Your-Own-Hydrogen-Peroxide-Zone.  Good to know...

Measuring cup...luke warm water...

Be careful, this stuff is dangerous!  We make our own label so no one will think this is a normal bottle of water...

OK, here we go...

Dad!  Does it burn?