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Closer Than a Brother/Sister

Today’s blog is coming to you from San Diego. Last week I asked you to pray for my cold; several of you commented that you had done just that, the cold cleared up and I thank you plenty!  While on the mend, Tony and I were able to attend and participate in two amazing meetings.  I had to laugh that in both services, every time I’d cough or sneeze, people from every angle were there with cough drops and Kleenexes.  Hawaii certainly has compassionate people! Either that or maybe everyone we hang out with is getting older and more infirm. I could also entertain the thought that they are simply afraid I’m communicable and would like me to stop the spread, but I won’t go there. Speaking of compassionate people, I should mention why I’m in San Diego.  Despite a rather tumultuous year my sister has had, I was delighted to learn that several friends were determined to help her celebrate her upcoming 80th birthday! I of course could never miss something like that, so while Tony is finishing his
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All in His Hands

 Hello Everyone,  I’dlike to share a story I heard just before we left Australia a couple of weeks ago.  It goes in the category of “Only in Australia”. Our friend works as an appliance repairman serving several little towns surrounding where we live.   One day an old Ute (pick-up truck) pulled up to his shop and a rather tough looking woman hopped down out of the cab.  She had driven several miles in from her sheep station.   After the obligatory “G’Day Mate” greeting, she sat down and said, “Gorsh, I’ve had a rock or something in my boot all the way down the hill,” whereupon she pulled off her boot and shook out, not a rock, but a Huntsman spider that measured at least five inches across!  My friend screamed (he’s a man) and the lady shrugged her shoulders as she went about putting her boot back on. Now let me clarify, Huntsman spiders are NOT poisonous, but the Aussies assure us,“Oh you’ll swell up and hurt like XXXX for several days, but it’s NOT poisonous!”  As my friend and the w
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Born Free

 Good morning friends, I woke up last week, Easter morning, to a beautiful sunrise and in my head I was singing“Up from the grave He arose!” And then just as naturally, came from my deep psyche, the rest of the song,“With a mighty crashing to His toes!” I didn’t post this last week, because you need to experience Easter without my childhood memories crashing in. But it’s true.  For those of us that were absolutely born into Christian families, and I’m guessing there are many of you reading this blog, the awe of the faith may not be there for many years.  Instead, you may have found yourself sitting on the back pew making funny words to important Hymns.   You may be able to give me examples.  I think Tony grew up wondering who “Gladly,the Cross-eyed Bear” was. But I’m happy to say that even though my mother told me “Of course you’re a Christian, you prayed to receive Jesus when you were TWO!” My faith became REAL to me when, at 15,  I heard a sermon being preached using the verse in Mat
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Happy Easter!

 Happy Easter to All! I hope you’re all having a great Resurrection Day, I know we’ve been blessed with a big crowd at church, several baptisms and the all time Australian treat of Hot Cross Buns.  My grandchildren are all playing together as we speak, and that always makes us count our blessings.   I am reminded today of something that happened years and years ago, 1979, in fact, when we were in Japanese language school in Tokyo. For some unknown reason, our mission leaders decided that we would be “Guinea Pigs” and sent to the Catholic language school.  There were several schools around, but each one had its own “issues”, so they thought they’d give the Catholics a chance.  After a bit of culture shock, we were delighted. The classes were challenging but not impossible, and while we didn’t emerge exactly “bilingual”, everyone agreed the two-year experience was worth it.  Every day we were surrounded by nuns and priests, most of whom did not speak English, having come mostly from Euro
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Life's Little Miracles

We’ve been doing something with the grandboys that’s beginning to pay off.  Every Wednesday evening, I try to cook a meal for them, which gives us an excuse to sit together around the table.  As we’re finishing up, Gigi (Tony’s grandpa name) tells them a story about our past.  I know it’s egotistical, but we all enjoy remembering and getting some mileage out of our adventures and mistakes.  Any of you out there that remember Tony's dad, "Uncle Buddy" will know that Tony comes from a line of storytellers. It reminds me of a verse I just read in the Old Testament, one of God’s instructions to the Israelites: “And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.” ( Deuteronomy 6: 6-8 KJV) So last night, they had a friend at dinner and all three boys were saying
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Hop Hop Bang

 We’ve lived in Australia for over 20 years and this last week our family had a first: Nathan hit a kangaroo. Now you may think that’s like hitting a dog or a deer, but let me explain. Kangaroos, when on the move, don’t seem to be looking left and right, or thinking what a speeding vehicle could do to them. Many say they lack the intuitive skills to work out things like this.  I prefer to think that they just love the rhythm of the hop and are gleefully enjoying themselves. And for proof, it looks like they’re always in pairs, thus the old Australian adage, “If once you see a kangaroo, best watch out for number two.” If you travel very far into the Outback, you can count hundreds of carcasses beside the road, victims of the road trains with their invincible “Roo Bars” attached to the front.   In Nathan’s case, very fortunately, the kangaroo wasn’t at his highest in his bounce, because then he would have come thru the windshield.  That can be fatal to the passengers.  No, this one, just
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Farewell to a Friend

Good morning,   Many of you know that we have a place in our house where we hang pictures of selected men and women. We call it our ‘Wall of Witnesses”, and it’s based on Paul’s mention of his Cloud of Witnesses in Hebrews 12:1, those who have gone before us and encourage us to run the race with perseverance.  We started our wall many years ago and now have 9 couples who we believe to have helped make us who we are. Of course you’ll see our parents there, a loving and Godly grandmother, but the other people we’ve picked up along the way, all greatly impacting our lives. Unfortunately for us, only a few of these people remain with us today, and it certainly hurt (selfishly) to hear this morning that yet another one has gone to be with the Lord.  But the good news is that he was ready. In his 90’s, now free of pain and rejoicing with his wife…… only having been separated from her for two years. His name was Howard Kroese, but he preferred to be called by his grandkids and younger asso
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