Happy birthday, child of mine...man after God's own heart. Warrior and protector, husband, father, brother, friend. We celebrate you today.

Despite a lifetime of belief and faith in God, at times my spirit is troubled.

I fall back on verses long ago memorized-

in times more simple with the unblemished faith of a child.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures

He leadth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul

He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil; for thou art with me

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies,

Thou anointest my head with oil,

My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." Psalm 23

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Philippians 4:6 (NIV)

Thirty-eight years ago I was ten days shy of being twenty years old. It was a cold March, and it was the brief time span between winter and spring quarters at Ohio State. I had had a pretty lousy winter quarter, actually the worst of my entire college career (which is quite long and a story for another day.) It is difficult, nearly impossible to concentrate on college classes when you are planning a wedding.

Ours was such a simple and uncomplicated affair compared to many weddings, but it still had its share of crises and deadlines and worries. One sister lived too far away to come, but all the rest were bridesmaids, dressed in pink, my favorite color at the time. My mother sewed my dress, the bridesmaid's dresses, and even the little white jacket that my three year old brother wore as the "ring master." My preacher father married us, and nearly collapsed from running back and forth before the ceremony. Neither of us can remember much about the wedding, just his little sister sobbing audibly as we took our vows, and doing the totally gauche thing of opening our gifts at the reception where only red punch, wedding cake, nuts and mints were served. My dear husband arrived at the wedding with the grand total of $6.00 in his pocket. Blessedly folks were generous, and we, as we always have, had enough to get by.

I hardly recognize the young girl in the photos. The thin handsome gentleman seems so much more familiar...he still looks the same to me. We were so young, and many would say foolish and ill prepared for what lay ahead of us. It was the grace and constancy of God's love that saw us through.

How can so much time have passed? I know that I love, respect, and honor him more now. Thank you, God, for the blessing of loving a person so filled with your love...who finds joy in the simple, pure, and holy things in life. Besides, he still makes me laugh.

Thirty-eight more years? Probably not here on earth, but eternity...Yes!

Today everyone is Irish, with the wearin' of the green.
Today everyone is Irish, most everyone it seems.
They laugh and weep for the dear old folk,
Who came here from across the sea.
Today everyone is Irish, and most especially me!

A simple poem for my great-grandfather, John Riley Cordle. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all the "Irish" among us.

Today outside my back door there are birds singing in the pine tree. I am sitting at a computer that was paid for long ago, in a chair on which I owe nothing, and in a house that is not mine...the bank still owns it. As the bad economic news continues to roll over all of us, the debt in our lives has become a real focus of my energy. We are setting goals for getting out of debt. for us that means one big credit card, a truck payment, and of course the really biggie...the house.

The truth is that we have not always made wise decisions concerning money. We are not the best "tithers" (although we sincerely try) and we have spent money that borrowed from future earnings far too often. We gave our children and sometimes our grandchildren things we could not afford, that even perhaps they might not have needed, because we love them and sincerely wanted to shower them with blessings. We went on vacations that we could not really afford, not often, but more than we should have. We sound spectacularly like our government, don't we?

A few years back Dear Husband and I were "downsized" and unfortunately for us, that did not refer to our body size, but rather to the loss of my husband's thirty-two plus years job. It was a real kick in the head, and since then we have been trying to learn from it. I think in many ways God has used this jolt to help us grow in our faith and understanding of God's plans for us.

Don't misunderstand, we went through our "mourning" period. We suffered under the same delusion that many folks of our generation had, that hard work and giving 100% and then some would keep you "safe." Ha! Dear Husband did not work for nine months, and then got a menial job earning less than one-third what he had earned in his previous employment. We had to pay our own way through COBRA for health insurance, and that completely depleted our savings account. The blessing is that we received a ten month severance package and we never went a day without health insurance or a week with out a pay check. God is so good! DH now has a job earning about half what he did, and I am working again, so God just keeps raining down the blessings!

My wonderful Grandma always said that you had to look for the "silver lining" in the dark cloud, so I think we are getting better at that. The upside for us is that we grew up on and around farms. We know how to plant and harvest, how to scrape and scrimp, and make do. Dear Husband is joyfully planting seeds and nursing along his baby plants in his basement workroom. Since he has been "cut back" (again, sigh) to four days a week in his new job, he has been building a compost bin for the backyard and planning his summer garden. All those things which we learned long ago will hopefully serve us well as we head into uncertain economic times. I am trying to master the art of baking our own bread, instead of paying nearly $4 a loaf at Kroger. We do not dare raise chickens (Columbus says no way) but we are looking for ways to reduce our debt and our use of the world's limited resources, by making do with what we have. Since we both grew up in homes with an abundance of children and a lack of abundance in funds, this is no big deal, and certainly nothing new.

We are still enjoying life, and we have learned to count our blessings far better than if we had never "lost" my husband's job. God is always at work in our lives, we just need to open our eyes and see His hand at work.

One of the prevailing ideologies of our culture is the value of "being useful." We cut our teeth on those old stories about the Pilgrims and their adage of, "He who does not work does not eat." As adults we define our lives, our identities, our selves in some ways by the "usefulness" of our activities, often by the professions we choose. We are our job, we don't do our job. I think this is a big mistake. What happens when we are no longer able to "do?"



It is not necessarily just your age that defines you, as far as our culture is concerned. I was only in my very early twenties when my children were born. One of the memories I have of being a young mom at home with my little children is in trying to explain to folks who did not share the belief that my at home job was a "real" job just what it was I did. I was often made to feel a bit defensive about my choice to be at home during my little ones early years. I would give everything I own and several years of my life to have back just one day of those times with my little children. Those of you who are still "in the trenches" and raising young children may find this difficult to believe, but being a wife and mother was my real life's work...everything else I have done with my life is only a side line, and relatively unimportant.



It is not just those at home with young children, but also those who "sit on the sidelines" due to age or infirmity. They feel that the world is defining them by its standards, and not the standards of God. Our kids used to listen to a Christian artist who sang a song called, "Lifeboat." Although it was a bit satirical, it questioned our cultural obsession with just what it is that gives us "value." Do we pitch the developmentally handicapped child into the ocean to "make room" for someone of "more value?"

I know for my folks, especially my dad, it is hard to feel like your life lacks purpose...although just getting through the days when you reach the age of eighty is challenging enough! My mom, God bless her, still finds joy in taking care of my dad, and has never lost her smile, even though the past year has taken its toll on her health as well. The world would not value the "purpose" she has chosen for her life, but I think she has chosen well.



Jesus often took notice of those "along the pathway of life." He saw them, when to most they were invisible, indeed often distasteful and "unclean." He saw people in doorways, those dropped down through roofs, the outcasts that others literally avoided like the plague! He touched the untouchable, he involved himself with those that society had long ago given up on. Would that I could be like Jesus...change my heart oh God, mend my broken places so that I can see with your eyes, and love with your heart.



I often wonder in what ways we live our lives in acknowledgement of the worth of all persons, even though they may be aging, incapacitated by poor health, or too young, or poor, or...?



If we follow the example of Jesus, then we must see persons as valuable because He created them, not for what they may or may not be able to "contribute." I think it is not the fear of aged numbers that makes us try to avoid old age, I think it is the fear of the loss of respect from those around us because we have lost our "usefulness." Thoughts to ponder, and a challenge for me to change my way of thinking.