Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Hello, readersThe following story has touched me deeply. FLY by Shannon Woodward, August 2006 (CWO)“Let’s go to the Fair today,” Grandma said.I hadn’t thought I’d ever hear those words again. Though only 61, Grandma had been stopped cold by arthritis. ‘Old Arthur,’ as she called it, had cruelly plucked from her all her delights--trips to the mall, trips to Seattle, trips to the Fair. Arthritis had stolen her legs and hands, wrung the energy from her bones, and confined her to a chair near a window, from where she could watch life but no longer participate in it.“If you want to go out to the Fair today, then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Grandpa said. I watched him watching her, and saw determination in his eyes. “How many scones do you think you can eat, Mickey?”“At least two. And an ear of corn from the VFW booth,” she said. He grinned in response.We didn’t waste a minute. I helped Grandma brush her hair, Grandpa got her shoes and purse, and off we went.Monroe--home to the Evergreen State Fair--was just a bit over spitting distance from my grandparents’ Snohomish farm. We were there in under twenty minutes, even counting Fair traffic. Grandma endured the slide from the car to her chair without a word. Nor did she utter a syllable’s worth of complaint as we traveled the gravel-covered parking lot.As we walked toward the admissions gate, I saw her staring toward the right end of the fairgrounds, where the whizzing carnival rides were in full neon frenzy. “Shanny, what’s that long, skinny ride over there?”I followed her gesture and saw the ride in question. “That’s the Zipper, Gram.”She watched for a split second and said, “I think I’d like to ride the Zipper today.”I made a sound not unlike a snort. “No, Grandma, you don’t want to go on the Zipper.”I looked at Grandpa and he looked back. My expression said, “What is she thinking?” but his sent an entirely different message. What I saw in his eyes was, “Isn’t she something?”The Queen sat a bit straighter in her chair and lifted her chin. “We’ll see,” she said.True to her word, she ate a butter-slathered ear of corn and two scones. She also nibbled an elephant ear and shared a purple cow milkshake with Grandpa. We watched a man demonstrate the new-and-improved way to slice vegetables, watched a woman clean a spill with a must-have chamois, and watched loggers climb poles, chop wood and roll logs in a make-shift pond. We got our rings cleaned. We listened to the stock car races and even found a low-enough hole in the fence so Grandma could have a peek at the cars flying around the track.Maybe it was that race that got her going again. “You know, I think I’m ready for that ride now,” she said.I decided not to fight her. But the Zipper was out. “Grandma, if you feel well enough for a ride, let’s find one that won’t rattle you. The Zipper is just too much.” I scanned the jumble of machinery and saw one that looked innocuous enough. “Look over there,” I said.Grandma looked. “You mean that big circle of swings?”“Doesn’t that look fun?”She kept looking. “Not really.”“Sure it is. See--they’ll strap you in and then it lifts and spins around. I’ll bet we’ll be able to see everything from up there.”She looked unconvinced. “Well, I’ll go on that, but then I want to go on the Zipper.”I felt a little embarrassed as we wheeled Grandma up to one of the swings. I could see people nudging each other and whispering, as if we were torturing the woman--forcing her to ride carnival rides against her will. I pretended not to notice.I fastened Grandma’s safety belt and locked the metal bar. “I’ll be in the swing ahead of you.”The ride started. We lifted and began to spin. Against the force, I twisted in my chair and looked back at Grandma. She sat straight against her seat with her hands folded neatly in her lap and a polite smile arranged on her face. It threw me a bit to see her legs dangling back and forth.The peaceful, gentle ride didn’t last long. We got her back in her chair and wheeled past the onlookers. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Grandma?” I asked.“No,” she said, “but now I’d really like to go on that Zipper.”If she went on the Zipper--which wasn’t going to happen--it would mean I’d have to go with her. I took in another earful of Zipper-screaming and another eyeful of tumbling cages and decided I’d have to find a less frightening alternative.My eyes landed on the Matterhorn. “How about that ride?”Grandma sighed. “All right, Shannon. But then we’re going on the Zipper.”We wheeled her up, helped her into the alpine-decorated cars, and started off. This time, she perked up. As we rolled up and over the curved track, she started yelling. “Faster! Faster!”We did go faster. We whipped along that track like a couple of medal-bound bobsledders, with Grandma yee-hawing right in my ear. After several minutes, we finally began to slow down. Grandma squealed her disappointment. “Don’t stop!” But the ride operator on the side of the track just laughed. As we rode past, he yelled back, “I’m putting it in reverse--just for you!” And off we went again, with Grandma yelling out her delight.I felt dizzy as we climbed out of our car. That ought to do it, I thought. But Grandma had a different thought. “Clifford, tell Shannon I want to go on the Zipper.”I begged Grandpa with my eyes to just say no. The Zipper was evil. It would swallow us whole. At the very least, it would make me lose my scones. But I should have known he could never say no to her.“Shanny, take your Grandma on the Zipper.”I walked to that ride with all the joy one would feel walking to a guillotine. I felt ill as we climbed aboard one of the barely-secured cages and I heard the click of the lock. Grandma, however, looked like a sixteen-year old who had just gotten her driver’s license. “Let’s see how fast we can make this thing spin.”I didn’t have time to argue. The ride--and my screaming--began. Up we went, and then around, and around, and around. “Lean into it,” Grandma ordered. “Help me spin us faster.”Could she not hear my screaming?I screamed myself hoarse. Grandma giggled through the entire ride. And when we finally, mercifully, slowed and stopped at the very tiptop of the ride--upside down--Grandma kept laughing. I kept screaming. Until eventually, she gave me a nudge in the side. “Shannon, you’re embarrassing me.”I stopped screaming and turned to look at her. Grandma’s hair, like my own, hung straight down from her head. Her eyes were teary from laughter; with a gnarled finger, she wiped one escaped tear from her cheek. I could just see the ground below through squares of the cage near her head. Near our feet, I saw the sky. And the whole thing was suddenly so absurd, I had to laugh. We hung there together like two teenage friends, stuck in a moment I’ve returned to a hundred times in my mind.Grandma’s arthritis came back in the months that followed. It came with a vengeance, angry to have lost her for that short period. That late August trip to the Fair was our last, but it was the trip that meant the most to me. Among the many things I learned from my grandmother, the lesson she gave me in that between-earth-and-sky moment was one I value most. Age--it turns out--is a relative thing, and unless you convince yourself otherwise, you’re never too old to fly.
"Gray hair is a crown of splendor;it is attained by a righteous life."~ Proverbs 16:31, NIV ~

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Something to laugh at....but seriously speaking, children perceive things differently.....Joke 1 A couple had two little boys, ages 8 and 10, who were excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and their parents knew that if any mischief occurred in their town, their sons were probably involved.The boys' mother heard that a clergyman in town had been successful in disciplining children, so she asked if he would speak with her boys. The clergyman agreed, but asked to see them individually.So the mother sent her 8-year-old first, in the morning, with the older boy to see the clergyman in the afternoon.The clergyman, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him sternly, "Where is God?"The boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response, sitting there with his mouth hanging open, wide-eyed.So the clergyman repeated the question in an even sterner tone, "Where is God?" Again the boy made no attempt to answer.So the clergyman raised his voice even more and shook his finger in the boy's face and bellowed, "WHERE IS GOD!?"The boy screamed and bolted from the room, ran directly home and dove into his closet, slamming the door behind him.When his older brother found him in the closet, he asked, "What happened?"The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time, dude... God is missing--and they think WE did it!"Joke 2A ten year-old Jewish boy was failing math. His parents tried everything from tutors to hypnosis; but to no avail.Finally, at the insistence of a family friend, they decided to enroll their son in a private Catholic school.After the first day, the boy's parents were surprised when he walked in after school with a stern, focused and very determined expression on his face. He went straight past them, right to his room and quietly closed the door.For nearly two hours he toiled away in his room with math books strewn about his desk and the surrounding floor. He emerged long enough to eat, and after quickly cleaning his plate, went straight back to his room, closed the door and worked feverishly at his studies until bedtime.This pattern of behavior continued until it was time for the first quarter's report card. The boy walked in with it unopened, laid it on the dinner table, and went straight to his room. Cautiously, his mother opened it and, to her amazement, she saw a large red 'A' under the subject of Math. Overjoyed, she and her husband rushed into their son's room, thrilled at his remarkable progress."Was it the nuns that did it?" the father asked. The boy shook his head and said, "No.""Was it the one-to-one tutoring? The peer-mentoring?" "No.""The textbooks? The teachers? The curriculum?" "No", said the son."On that first day, when I walked in the front door and saw that guy nailed to the Plus Sign, I KNEW they meant business!"

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Dear sisters (brothers)......
Many of us are praying for the salvation of our loved ones and friends and oftentimes wondering how long more before they will come to believe. Here is a story which has blessed me much and I would like to share it with you. May it encourage us to keep praying and witnessing and trying even though the doors may appear shut.
"Is not my word like as a fire? saith the LORD; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?" Jeremiah 23:29
Have you ever visited the quarry where the stone cutters are at work cleaving the rocks into their proper shape to be fitted into the buidling? Observe how the workman placed his heavy chisel on the rock, and then bring down the heavy hammer again and again upon it. The rock did not cleave at the first blow. One blow, two blows, three, a dozen and no (seeming) result. And then some more blows, twenty, thirty, forty, and then, at the forty-fifth blow, the rock yields and falls apart as though it had never been united. It was the forty-fifth blow that did it. Or was it? Ah no, it took forty-four other blows which caused the particles within to shift for the final cleavage. There could be no forty-fifth blow without the first blow and all the rest. There was no visible result till the last blow fell, but each blow caused some change. Had the workman become discouraged at the forty-fourth blow, the job would have failed, as if not a single blow had fallen.
Have you been praying for and dealing with a loved one, trying to win him to Christ? Have you given him Scripture after Scripture and prayed and prayed? Are you now tempted to give up, saying, "What's the use?" Remember, every blow does something, for His Word "shall not return void." Don't give up! Your prayers for that son or daughter, that unsaved parents or siblings, that unsaved wife or husband, that unsaved friends, will be answered if you just patiently apply the hammer of the Word. The next blow - it may be the forty-fifth -- and the rock may split! Patience brother, patience sister -- keep witnessing!
Be assured that God's Word is certain and powerful and cannot fail, even though you cannot always see its secret workings.
**************
Hebrews 4:12,13 "For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do."
Galatians 6:9 "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Hahaha....reading thru the joke, certainly makes me recall my "motherhood" days...... Lemme share it with you.....Have a wonderful day.Preparation for parenthood is not just a matter of reading books and decorating the nursery.
Here are 12 simple tests for expectant parents to take to prepare themselves for the real-life experience of being a mother or father.
1. Women: to prepare for maternity, put on a dressing gown and stick a beanbag down the front. Leave it there for 9 months.After 9 months, take out 10% of the beans. Men: to prepare for paternity, go to the local drugstore, tip the contents of your wallet on the counter, and tell the pharmacist to help himself.Then go to the supermarket. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office. Go home. Pick up the paper. Read it for the last time.
2. Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who are already parents and berate them about their methods of discipline, lack of patience, appallingly low tolerance levels, and how they have allowed their children to run riot. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's sleeping habits, toilet training, table manners and overall behavior. Enjoy it-- it'll be the last time in your life that you will have all the answers.3
. To discover how the nights will feel, walk around the living room from 5pm to 10pm carrying a wet bag weighing approximately8-12 lbs. At 10pm put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, till 1am. Put the alarm on for 3am. As you can't get back to sleep get up at 2am and make a drink. Go to bed at 2:45am. Get up again at 3am when the alarm goes off.Sing songs in the dark until 4am. Put the alarm on for 5am. Get up. Make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look cheerful.
4. Can you stand the mess children make? To find out, smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains. Hide a fish finger behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.Stick your fingers in the flower beds then rub them on the clean walls. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?
5. Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems: first buy an octopus and a string bag. Attempt to put the octopus into the string bag so that none of the arms hang out. Time allowed for this: all morning.
6. Take an egg carton. Using a pair of scissors and a pot of paint turn it into an alligator. Now take a toilet tube. Using only scotch tape and a piece of foil, turn it into a Christmas cracker. Last, take a milk container, a ping pong ball, and an empty packet of Coco Pops and make an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower. Congratulations. You have just qualified for a place on the play group committee.
7. Forget the Miata and buy a Taurus. And don't think you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that. Buy a chocolate ice cream bar and put it in the glove compartment. Leave it there. Get a quarter. Stick it in the cassette player. Take a family-size packet of chocolate cookies. Mash them down the back seats. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car. There. Perfect.
8. Get ready to go out. Wait outside the toilet for half an hour. Go out the front door. Come in again. Go out. Come back in. Go out again. Walk down the front path. Walk back up it.Walk down it again. Walk very slowly down the road for 5 minutes. Stop to inspect minutely every cigarette end, piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue and dead insect along the way.Retrace your steps. Scream that you've had as much as you can stand, until the neighbors come out and stare at you. Give up and go back into the house. You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.
9. Always repeat everything you say at least five times.
10. Go to your local supermarket. Take with you the nearest thing you can find to a pre-school child -- a fully grown goat is excellent. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goats eat or destroy. Until you can easily accomplish this do not even contemplate having children.
11. Hollow out a melon. Make a small hole in the side. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side. Now get a bowl of soggy Weetabix and attempt to spoon it into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane. Continue until half the Weetabix is gone. Tip the rest into your lap, making sure that a lot of it falls on the floor. You are now ready to feed a 12-month-old baby.
12. Learn the names of every character from Postman Pat, Fireman Sam and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. When you find yourself singing "Postman Pat" at work, you finally qualify as a parent.