wu(2):

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The greatest reme dy for anger is delay.
Topher Almas

bm:

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It is impo'ssible to' travel faster than the speed o'f light, and certainly no't desirable, as o'ne's hat keeps blo'wing o'ff.
Collyn Bowman

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___________________________________
The most onerous slavery is to _be a slave to oneself.
Anson Kay

zr:

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To' be always fo'rtunate, and to' pass thro'ugh life with a so'ul that has never kno'wn so'rro'w, is to' be igno'rant o'f o'ne half o'f nature.
Cindie Maschke

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Charity begins at ho'me.
Rosamund Connerley

Back Flips and Breakthroughs

Peter has just called me outside to show me that he has finally learned to do a back flip on the trampoline.  He gave up last week - couldn't get it, came inside, did not want to play.  Tonight, with the help of a friend here at Windmill - he got it.  He is delighted - I told him that he always had the capability, he just needed some help.

I am delighted because of several spiritual breakthroughs I have experienced in the last few months.  I am so convinced that God brings people to the field to first fix them, heal them and enlarge their hearts.  I came to England  ( ta da!!!) to help people.  God gently showed me how much I needed help.  My marriage hit an all time low our first year here.  Then it just limped along for a long time and has been a much discussed subject in my prayer time.  I would love to say that I reacted to our trials in a mature manner - but I became a better Pharisee.  I smiled and acted like everything was fine on the outside but seethed with resentment on the inside.  I also struggled with other aspects of the ministry and culture.  Inside I was throwing temper tantrums and blaming everyone else.  But I had one good idea - one good habit.  I kept bringing it all to God.  I wrestled with Him on the injustice on my life.  He answered and finally I listened.  One morning I heard God say - "There is reward in obedience."  I assumed that it was heavenly reward.  But it is more - He showed me that my obedience affects those around me.  Breakthrough!!!  

I still have things to wrestle with God.  I keep finding new areas of sin in me.  I am still covered in my flesh.  But I have hope of many future breakthroughs!

Priceless

This morning- Saturday morning - I opened my back door to let our little doggie out into our backyard.  I noticed one of the men that I had prayed with last night sitting on the steps of the main house. This young man has been in Betel for about 4 months and while getting along and working hard, you could tell he was not buying this whole Jesus thing.  He was just putting up with the songs, sermons and prayers.  But last night he asked for prayer.  And this morning when I looked again, I saw he was with one of the men's leaders, head bowed and they were praying again.  This is the breaking point, where self no longer has it all figured out, plan B is a bust and they give over to a higher authority.  This is the miracle.  Absolutely priceless.  

English Summer

I heard a quote on the radio last week: 

The English Summer consists of three fine days and a thunderstorm.  

Cockney

We have a resident, named Tony, at Windmill house who is very proud of his cockney heritage.  He will tell you that he was born is east London within the sound of the Bow Bells.  (Bow Bells are the bells of the church of St. Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside, London. To be 'born within the sound of Bow Bells' is the traditional definition of a Cockney.)  Here is a portion of his discourse on all things cockney:

By birthright is given the title of cockney and all of the blessings that this title bestows.  Namely: courage, panache, tact, stunningly good looks, slang language, good singing voice, and the ability to make up any absurdity of a story and make it believable.  

Some of Tony's cockney rhyming slang:

A cockney might say:                           Meaning:

Apples and pears Stairs   

Frog and toad Road

Hampstead Heath Teeth

Belt buckle Chuckle

A giraffe A laugh

Trouble and strife Wife

Pie and liquor Vicar

Jam jar Scar

China plate Mate (friend)

Dog and bone phone

Mince pies Eyes

Boat race Face

Plates of meat Feet

Current bun Sun

Whistle and flute Suit

Lady Godiva Fiver

Actually, I think he is having a giraffe on my behalf.  

Sheep

I was out walking with Scott and Peter this past Sunday.  We went through several sheep fields and the sheep were quite vocal.  They are funny sounding  - the young ones with higher pitch bleats and the older with funny low bleats.  Peter and I wondered what they were trying to communicate.  Peter suggested that they were telling each other corny jokes.  But I said no, they did not sound happy, they sounded like they were complaining.  They sounded loud and complaining, grumpy and whiny.  Isn't it apt that we are called sheep in the Bible?  Doesn't complaining just come so naturally?  God wants to give us His best for our best, yet I can always find something to complain about.  I want to try to emulate the content sleeping sheep or the happy ewes that scamper and frolic.  Dear Lord, show me my sin when I bleat and whine - lead me to a heart of gratitude.  

Steering my own course

Why, after all this time, do I continue to come up with ideas and then try to steer everyone involved in that direction. Even when people are warning me. Even when I have doubts. I am a risk taker. I like change. I get bored easily. I hate being hemmed in. I like to steer.
The best learning experience God ever gave me was to hem me in for eight years. I had to deal with it. I had to seek Him and trust that He had not forgotten me. I had to trust His timing. I was bored at times. I was restless. I became self-righteous and hurt others. I was humbled. Pride took a fall and I saw God's hand at work.

I scream inside when I want something and it is not easily in my grasp. This is usually a good thing - even godly - but the course that I think I should be cruising on veers off into a different direction. No one buys my rationalizations or reasons that I am trying to use.

God is good that way - cutting through (my crap) my independent desires and showing me that He has a plan. I know if I drop my plans and look to Him to fulfill me that He will not disappoint. Pray that I will look to Him for His ways and His timing, not mine!!!!!!

Harry

Harry is actually Harriet - a woman who has been in the women's house for almost two years. Everyone in the women's house has some sort of nickname, so they call Harriet: Harry or Larry. She is blooming into a beautiful young woman who radiates God's love. She has a 5-year old son, Eli, and is learning to care for him well when he comes to visit. He lives with Harriet's mother and father. Harriet has had a difficult relationship with her mother since her teen years. This past Sunday her parents came to the Betel church to visit and to pick up Eli after he had spent the weekend with his mom in the women's house. We were sitting directly behind them. Harriet's mom seemed particularly moved by the worship and started wiping away tears. Harry turned to her mom and put her arms around her and kissed her cheek. I teared up as I watched, wishing I could put my arms around my mom and give her a kiss one more time. But I was also left in wonder at how God has worked in Harry's life - how she used to wear all black and pull her hoodie over her face so you couldn't even see her. She has been plagued with bad dreams for years, but now is experiencing more and more peaceful nights. Nowadays she stands up straight, looks you in the eye, dresses nicely, hugs her mom and cares for her son. This is the life she was made for. God is faithful and good.

School stuff - I don't get it.

September has flown by - from the beginning week when we were scrambling to get all the school stuff together - mostly uniforms and gym kits. I still feel like I am punching in the dark with school stuff here.....not quite sure that I have all the information that I need. The British moms just seem to know how it all works while I am the one who has to find out stuff like Christopher didn't get a locker this year because we did not know that we had to reserve it. They gave his old locker to someone else and now he is on a waiting list. I always feel as if I am on slippery ground when they use the acronyms like GCSE's (still not sure what it stands for, but it means intense tests at the end of year 11) or PHCES (Personal heath and citizenship something). After four years I feel I have barely cracked the system and now my boys are all in different schools so that means three schools to keep up with. The schools are good - the teachers are interested and engaged and they give the kids lots of opportunity to grow in personal interests. Christopher can stay after school any day of the week and work on either art projects or computer projects. Peter has been accepted for the after school computer club. Paul's school is doing an excellent job in giving him opportunities to develop a well-rounded resume. He is part of an extend class where he mentors younger students both academically and socially. They are helping him explore the opportunities to participate in either a volunteer program or a work study program. I am impressed with their level of care and direction that the teachers give. So I am pleased with the education that they are receiving, I just wish I didn't come out looking like a ninny at times. This year I am just going to try to make sure I know which days are uniform days and which days are non-uniform days. I get a very sinking feeling in my gut when I walk Peter to school and he is the only one in his uniform. I think they do it on purpose just to keep me confused.

To be found worthy of my calling

We left Spain on Friday. As we flew above Madrid the landscape was all browns, dotted with bits of green which are the olive trees or grapevines. But, mostly brown. Loads of sunshine. Clear skies for a long time as we gained altitude.

Then, an hour and half later, we started to descend. London was covered in a thick layer of clouds. Thick layer. But when we broke through, it was all green, like a patchwork quilt of greens, dotted with sheep. Cloudy, rainy and cool. And I was happy to be back. Happy to be in my own home, but also happy to return to this green lovely place, despite the weather.

Last night we had to sleep with all the windows closed as it was downright chilly! This next week the high is to be 65 F. The high! Sounds good if you are in a heatwave, but in reality, it feels quite chilly. We are all sitting around in sweatshirts and sweaters. We went from 100F in Spain to 64F.

All this difference in temperature reminds me how different this home is from my other home- Alabama. How different the culture is - how I miss my friends and church. I figure this land needs a little warmth - and a lot of Jesus. Can I be salt? Can I, as broken and sinful as I am, convey Christ to those around me? Luckily Christ is in control, not me. His name will go forth, unhindered, despite my mistakes and distractions. How I pray to be found worthy of my calling.

Goodbyes to Alabama

While I was in Alabama I tried to live in the moment and really see and feel things that were distinctly "home" to me.
I listened to the crickets, frogs and cicadas. Each morning I would look out the window and all except one day were sunshine, blue skies. I sat out on Jenny's front porch in her porch swing and felt how the humidity truly wraps itself around every part of your body. (I wish I could save that feeling for the middle of the winter here. It is just the opposite here - there almost always seems to be an underlying coolness to the air. Our house in England is almost always on the cool side.) I also napped on Jenny's porch swing after eating a red Popsicle. I drove in Alabama with the windows down (when possible) to smell the trees - the pines. I took in the dogwoods and crepe myrtles, as well as the kudzu. I listened to the birds -(very different from England's grumpy crows and magpies.) I walked barefoot in thick cool grass. I slapped mosquitoes. I watched salamanders. I stood still in the dark between the Boykins and Claytons houses and saw a lightning bug. I loved the loud dramatic thunder storms. I also loved the sweet familiar southern drawl - especially in the children. I loved being somewhere where I sound like everyone else.

So I say goodbye, Alabama and all that it is to me.

I will miss my friends, my church, my family.
I will miss spicy BBQ, homemade fries, onion rings and sweet tea refills.
Cold watermelon. Fresh tomatoes.
I will miss lunch at the Summit, giggles by the pool and Sonic happy hours.
Swimming like a kid. Swimming with my kids - all five of them together.
The music at our church. Elizabeth at the cello and Connie on the violin. Beautiful worship.

Yesterday I had to go by the doctor's office next door to my house here in England. I was talking to the lady at the desk and when I was done, I turned to leave and the three people in the waiting room were looking at me. At first I was puzzled, then I remembered. My accent. I am different. I smiled and left. Sweet home Alabama.

At home sick in bed

Well, I would love to have some time off, but not at home sick, with a fever. I am better than I was yesterday, but still feel pretty crappy. I am bored!!! I have lots to do - as Christmas is in three days, but I just feel really bad when I get up. Jonny is here, so I don't have to worry about cooking - he and Paul will deal with that end. Bethany Kemp arrives tonight from Germany. She is our funny friend from Bethany College (no relation) and has spent the last two Christmases with us. She is with YWAM in Heirrenhut (SP???) Germany. She may also be bringing a friend. We won't know until Scott picks her up tonight at Birmingham airport. Bless her, she always flies into Birmingham airport, which is only about 20 minutes from our house.

I still have cookies that I want to bake and a couple more gifts to buy. Wahhh!!!
I really left buying gifts until the last minute this year - but we never know how much we have to spend until mid-December anyway. I really hope I feel better tomorrow. Right now my head hurts, my nose is all stuffy and I feel dizzy and clammy. Lovely. I really do not want the kids to get it. Christopher, my germ phobia child, is avoiding me, but Peter keeps coming in, jumping on the bed and asking me if I feel better yet. Bella, the wonder dog, has kept watch over me, no doubt ready to perform proper red cross maneuvers in cause I fall into a coma or start to seizure. I am sure she could run next door and get the doctor if I needed her to, Lassie style. I do rest easy knowing that we live next to the doctor's office and Dr. Whittaker would walk over if one of us was bad enough. Maybe.

Ok, I am going to go back to sleep or faint. Merry Christmas.

I feel guilty for not doing more with my photos as the window on my blog thingy tells me I should. I feel guilty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blah blah blah. Humbug.

Yeah, we have been busy, blah blah blah. But that is not why I have not been able to blog: Our laptop is on life support, any breath could be it's last, so we have assembled a desktop computer from all different parts from all different places and donors. Think Wall-e. But it works and I am back in the blog business.
All the news here is about the credit crunch, how it is effecting the "high street" ( main street) sales and how gloomy our future is. Zimbabwee is also in the news and they want that Robert Mumgabi (?) guy out. Gordon Brown (current unpopular prime minister) said that the british need a "can do" attitude to get through the financial crisis, and the local news mocked him for saying it. Poor guy. He does have a really scary Scottish accent. He should narrate Stephen King's books on tape.

We are doing well. Jonny is here for the holidays. We are warm, full and have friends and family that love us most of the time. God is good and His Son died for my sorry self. What more could I ask?

Eldest

Today I have to say goodbye to my eldest - Josh, aged 25. He is going back to Korea to work and be with his serious girlfriend, Jisook. He has agonized over the decision to go back so soon and not stay for the holidays. He and I have had several deep conversations about him leaving. I have cried privately and with him as I will miss him so much.
Each of my sons occupy a room in my heart. When one leaves, as Josh did for college six years ago, it is like the light in the room in my heart goes dim. They are still very much adored in my heart but now they are far away, living out their own lives and adventures. They are not a part of my daily mayhem and madness. I used to gaze at Josh's childhood pictures as I dusted them and say. "where are you now? What are you doing? I miss you." I broke down the first time Josh walked away from us in an airport on his way to school in Minnesota. I cried so hard it scared me. He was my first born, my baby boy that came with much celebration after two years of three miscarriages. I am very proud of the men that both he and Jonny have become - strong, hard-working, God-fearing. We can argue, cry and laugh (oh can we laugh!!) All my sons are my finest achievements of my time here on earth.
So, today, again, I have to watch Josh walk away from us in Heathrow airport. When will we see each other again? I am not sure. I know God will watch over him.

Poor coconut

When you go to buy shredded coconut at the store it is called, tragically, "desiccated coconut."
That's a little harsh, don't you think? We were discussing this at dinner and had to add some substitute words: decimated, decapitated, desecrated, devastated, and Josh's suggestion: defecated. None really add appeal to the poor coconut. I think they should go with a kinder and gentler adjective such as: flaked, which brings to mind happy snowflakes. I do notice on the bag that it is a product of a muslim nation. Maybe this is a sinister message to all infidels -" don't mess with us. See what we do to mere coconuts? No mercy!!!"

Or maybe not.
Poor coconut.