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Reflection
Sackcloth and Ashes
MY FAMILY moved to Meteor Ranch of Northern California in May of 1962. Back then, my sisters and I were eight, nine, and ten, me in the middle, Linda and I were about to turn ten and eleven.
The ranch was a family-run Christian Conference Center and Bible Camp, the mother in charge. She oversaw her husband, sons, and daughters-in-law, the staff, and whatever wards of the state she could take in for cash flow—to use and misuse we’d learn soon enough. I’d already pegged her for a sheep in wool’s clothes. After hiring Dad to come work for her at a pittance by bribing him with a “fully furnished house,” we discovered the house to be a stolen ranger station she’d had her sons saw in half and haul out of the hills.
Giving FROM my Heart, Not Giving AWAY my Heart
Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves cheerful giver." —II Corinthians 9:7 (RSV)
PANDA WAS MY FAVORITE stuffie when I was five. That Christmas, the fire department collected old toys for the poor. Even though Panda begged I not give him up, the voice of my Sunday School teacher oerrode: "We never give God what we don't love. We give Him what we love the most."
Orchid and Dandelion
You Don't Wear Leotards When You Visit the Queen
When Princess Elizabeth was crowned Queen, I was five days old. Which means she's been my queen all my life. Seventy years. And although I've spent most of my life in the States, loyalty to her has always been a big part of who I am.
I suspect much is due to my grandfather. He was a royalist and took me to see her when I was 7. She'd come to Vancouver for a visit, and a visit Grandpa intended to have.
What is WRONG With Me? (I'm an Orchid.)
Barbie Doll and Missing Body Parts
Here's the truth, and trust me. . .
Reflection: Grownup Coloring Books, All the Rage
Rain slides down the windows. My sisters and I are at the kitchen table, coloring. We’re chatting.
“Do you know where the silver is?” Tresa might ask.
“No,” I might say.
Linda might find it on the floor. Maybe she rummages through the 300 million crayons we keep in a Peak Freans cookie tin; most with rounded noses, peeling paper, and smelling of wax and something else perfectly and gloriously wonderful.
“What are you going to color silver?” is something I might ask.
The point is, coloring was a way for my sisters and I to enjoy each other’s company on a rainy afternoon and apparently exercise our brains, find focus, calm down, and choose colors that can heal. In recent years, adult coloring has become quite the “thing.”
So what’s the deal?
TAMING THE DRAGONS: Lucy, Uncle Tom's Cabin
TAMING THE DRAGONS: Mary, 1989
Taming the Dragons: Mary, Mother of Jesus
WAS MARY, fiance of Joseph, at the well in Nazareth when the stranger approached? Or was she washing butter, packing it into earthen vessels? What was she doing when a man she’d never seen before said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
I wonder, did the bucket fall from her hand, warm water splash across her hot and dusty feet? Did she drop her bowl? Did it break? Did she hasten to gather the precious butter coated now in dust and dirt? Kneeling, scooping, heart beating fast?