Prompted by Verge and Doodlewash
Friday, November 22, 2019
New Christmas Cards
It's that time again--not Christmas time, but getting-ready-for-Christmas time. We're practicing the music in band and in choir, taking note of gift ideas, maybe thinking about greetings to send to loved ones.
Star Over the Stable Christmas Card
by Zevenster
Star Over the Stable Christmas Card
by Zevenster
To make it a little easier for you, I'd like to introduce my 2019 Christmas cards, available on Zazzle. Enjoy your preparations!
Labels:
Christmas
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Parable of the Pit
Once upon a time, a woman
named Bertha found the entrance to the Strait and Narrow Way. It
appeared to be much less crowded than the Broad Way she had been
traveling, and she thought she'd like to try it. But the Narrow Way
also looked rather steep, and her knees had been giving her some
trouble lately. So she settled there at the crossroads, and enjoyed
watching the people go by as she waited to become stronger.
As Bertha returned home
one day, she noticed that a large sinkhole had appeared between the
two roads. Alarmed, she stepped carefully around it, and safely
reached her house. Later, though, she glanced out the front window,
and saw a young woman fall into the pit. Bertha hurried outside.
“Help!” called the
young woman. “Can you help me?”
Bertha peered down. “How
did you fall in?”
“I didn't see the hole.
Can you pull me out?”
Bertha reached in, but the
pit was too deep. She could not reach the young woman's hand.
“Do you have a ladder,
or a rope?” the young woman asked.
“No, I have nothing like
that. I'm sorry, but I cannot help you.” Bertha left the
disappointed young woman in the pit, and returned to her comfortable
home.
Over the next few days,
more people fell into the pit. A couple of teenaged boys dared each
other to jump in, but could not jump back out. A girl was pushed in
by a false friend who ran off, giggling. A scholarly-looking older
man convinced his pupil that the only way to understand and solve the
problem of the pit was to explore it fully, and they climbed in.
Some rushed along the road without paying attention, and fell in.
Others looked down, curiously, until the side seemed to give way, and
they fell, too.
At first, Bertha worried
about the fallen travelers. She advised them to climb the sides or
boost each other out, but the pit was too deep, the sides too slick.
Eventually she decided they must deserve to be down there, if they
weren't going to pay attention or stay away from obvious danger. She
began to smirk when she saw someone fall. Occasionally, she'd toss a
casserole down to the victims. There really wasn't anything else she
could do, was there?
One morning, Bertha heard
the fallen ones calling for help, and looked outside. A new traveler
approached the pit. He looked like one of those hippy types, with
long hair and a beard. He leaned down and smiled at the people in
the pit. Then he climbed right in. “That figures,” Bertha
thought, but she went outside to see what else he would do.
The people in the pit were
clamoring around the newcomer.
“We've been here so
long. We've tried everything, but we can't get out. Can you help
us? Please?”
“Yes,” he said. “I
can.”
Bertha thought that was
unlikely. He looked no taller or stronger than any of the others.
But most of the people in the pit seemed to believe the stranger.
“I will lift you out,”
he said, “but you'll need to do something for me.” He spoke to
each victim quietly. The old scholar scoffed, but his pupil agreed
wholeheartedly to whatever the stranger had asked. So did most of
the others.
The young woman who had
fallen first sat staring at the wall. She had given up asking for
help some time before. The man took her hands. “Even you,” he
said. “I can even save you.” Tears streamed from her eyes as he
helped her stand. Then he crouched down next to her, offered his
hands for her to step on, and lifted her out of the pit.
Bertha was amazed. Had
the stranger stretched that far? Or had the hole shrunk? Both
looked the same as before, but there was the young woman, backing
away from the edge, smiling up into the sunlight. And soon others
joined her. When the man had lifted out all who were willing, he
climbed out, too.
Bertha thought they were a
sorry-looking lot, all smudged and stained from their time in that
muddy hole. But they all smiled, and called the man their Savior,
and he smiled and put his arms around them.
Then he said, “Come,”
and led the group to the entrance to the Strait and Narrow Way. As
each went through the gate, the dirt on their clothes disappeared.
“Wait,” Bertha called
as the gate began to close. “May I come, too?”
The bearded man turned and
extended a hand toward her. “Come, follow me.”
Bertha tried to walk that
way, but her feet would not move.
The man walked back toward
her. “Would you like me to help you out of the pit?”
“I'm not in any hole,”
she replied indignantly. “I knew better than to fall in there.”
“But did you warn your
neighbors of its danger? Did you minister to those who had fallen?”
Bertha suddenly knew that
her casseroles hadn't counted for very much. “Well, no.”
“Then you, too, have
fallen into a trap.” Bertha saw that she was, indeed, surrounded
by the tall, slick walls. “I will return, should you desire my
help.” The man walked away.
When another woman fell
into the hole, Bertha rushed to comfort her. When a young man peered
cautiously over the edge, Bertha begged him to set up a sign, or a
fence, to warn other travelers of the danger. She found her knees
strengthened as she spent more time on them. And she waited
patiently for the return of the only one who could rescue her from
the pit.
Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. Isaiah 53:4-5
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
一目の月見 Hitome no Tsukimi
sneaking glances east
gold moon rising as I drive
sixty miles per hour
Labels:
Poems
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Light the World
I love Christmas lights. December days around here tend to be wet and dreary, and night falls all too soon. But then the lights shine out, bringing hope and cheer.
The little electric lights are just a reminder, a dim imitation of the Light of the World, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Just like them, we can imitate Him to bring more light into the dreary world around us.
Join me in trying to lift some burdens this month. Here you can find ideas to get you started. Then observe, serve, and share in the joy of Christmas!
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Mothers' Day Boggle
Want to play?
My husband put this together for me, but I'm sure you can find some good messages, too. Ready, set, go!
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Landscape
How deep the snow,
how tall the trees
among whose tops we trod?
How many waves
have washed the stones
that lie along the shore?
From sea level
to snow level,
the gulls and ferns and more--
He paints the canvas
where we walk,
a bounteous artist, God.
how tall the trees
among whose tops we trod?
How many waves
have washed the stones
that lie along the shore?
From sea level
to snow level,
the gulls and ferns and more--
He paints the canvas
where we walk,
a bounteous artist, God.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Sheet Music Competition
I've been trying my hand at a different kind of composition, and I'm not alone. My son and I have each entered a piece to the yearly Sacred Sheet Music Competition at Free LDS Sheet Music. We both submitted arrangements of Christmas tunes. There are many beautiful entries. Check them out, and vote for all your favorites!
Labels:
News
Sunday, August 16, 2015
The Wedding Gifts
Gift Box Wedding Cake by pinkcakebox |
The plates have chipped,
the cups have cracked.
It's much too late
to take them back.
The quilts have ripped,
the towels are rough.
The toaster works--
one side's enough.
Two decades and
four thousand miles
are hard on dishes
and textiles.
The best gifts never
fade, you see:
of me for you,
and you for me.
For my dear husband
Friday, July 31, 2015
Perspective
Puget Sound Skyline, July 2015 |
smug skyscrapers swell,
full of human consequence--
dwarfed by lofty mount
Labels:
Perception,
Poems,
Pride
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