Friday, September 30, 2011

Awlaki Had No Reading Plan

To daily stop and sit and Read - Oh!
Honor Him
who made us.
That once again a nation prize
Dire promises to shade us.
(100 Day Scripture Reading Plan:
feed://   )

Anwar al-Awlaki Needed Alice

While bombers hate outright our nation
Some of us see why.

Our newsmen call it freedom legal,
Strippers' nude dance plied.

That rag unwelcome, tossed upon
My driveway like a habit,

Underwritten by strip clubs
Whose ads don't need that 'rabbit.

Like those who fall by target strength
Of plans on foreign soil,

May prayer plans aimed at Beeler's shame
Unwind his angry roil.

Meanwhile dear Alice plans and prays.
Her Good News Club begins

That children grow to know and love
What Anwar/Beeler need within.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Fluff Bludgeons

Just threw back a German beer.
What's going on in here? It was after
My ribcage went first.

It's stuck in a twist. I can barely
Getting old is starting to hurt.

How? Why? I'm not sure,
But I scrolled here for hours
Inside some girl's wonder blog

Turned to get up,
Suddenly stuck.
(That 'suck' word should go here I thot.)

Warm family stories
And sane observations
Have armed me with smiles and permission

To give to the journey
An entire morning.
And prayers for her young family's mission.

And I learned a new term: 
"Fluff blungeons" she typed, 
Retelling of wars with dorm pillows;

And roommates turned confidantes,
Campers at camp, 
And brothers who sound like dear fellows.

I must go now to pay out
The bills I'm avoiding
But one more ripe pick from her saga:

"Anyone who says they have one life to live 
must not know 
how to 


~Author Unknown" 
(slight amendment,  
my own)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Summer's Over; Fall Nearly

A 26th-Anniversary bike ride and breakfast out;
 the view from  
an overpriced, 
River's End Cafe.

Looked like rain, almost...

...and our trail is wanting trees.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Creation Falls

The six years when
I drowned within

The certainty
God hated me;

The six years when
I kept the sin

Hidden deep and outward in,

Not one win.

It's true you die when sin is hid.
I did.

But never once, no never, did
I justify it.

It owned me. I was it's slave;
Gerasene complete with cave.

Bulimia became my Schwinn;
My cycled anorexic twin,

As long as it stayed secret.

I could've said it's "who I am"
Because it was.

Had I surrendered to its way,
Had I sought others in its sway,

Willing it, to us, define,
Then scrawled a hundred angry signs,

Formed us rallies, demonstrated,
Labelled enemies who hate us.

Victim status.

Instead I begged. Upon my knees,
One thousand guilty anguished pleas.

Most took place beside commode,
Wondring why this God had shown

No mercy.

Plodded long, 'till came a day
Asked ONE to pray.

How dare I let my demon down!
"Out" myself to one so round?

But then, the gates of Heav'n opened.
Soft Word spoken:

"Hate your parents, you'll stay broken."

Repent of deeper wounds impressed?
Forgive the authors of my mess?

I'd do anything to earn
Good graces back to me returned.

So I admitted. Acquiesced.
Withheld resentment. God, impressed,

Hauled up the black immersing pest.

Bound my breaks, gave psychic rest.

I just confessed.

No one asked, but I told one.
Then Healing from the FatherSon


Wrested evil;
Jesus won.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Creation Calls

Vets Stadium fireworks from Heartwell Park, July 4th, 2010

Must see! Transfixes Me:
- - Music by Brian Doerksen

Left this on someone's blog, Oct 19 2010:

When hearts bleed out uncertainty,
When hurt speaks our humanity,
When what is sure butts up against
The worst of what we thought we'd

Cry out. Embrace. Say Jesus. Ask.

Do it 
' Till you hear.

He comes in quietness and pain.
He comes with certainty and gain.

He comes.

- - EFB

Friday, September 9, 2011

Thanks, Cuz

I am so fond of my cousin's blog. Tonight I was reminded of an early AmZyg post, lamenting the success of "some people" who just naturally seem to "turn out" better than others. I do not share their lot.

Here's why! Discovered on a link from Pinewood Castle:

Somewhere between raising Baptists and graduating Episcopalians,
my recycle bins filled up with curiously Bacchic labels.
Self-Control, where are you?

Thursday, September 8, 2011

In Tears

My "conservative" newspaper falls short again.

Dear OC Register: 
Your artless puff job re: student compliance with new vaccine requirements left me stunned. How can you call yourselves journalists yet fail to mention one iota of controversy over "mandatory" injections? Your paper has sunk in my esteem to the level of mere Soviet style propaganda. When human populations are reduced to herd status, the rights of individuals waived as inconsequential, and preferential treatment meted out by schools (in this case based upon criterion invented via government scientists and Big Pharma) we are not just a devolved republic, we are no longer even civilized. SHAME on you.

Broken Crystal.
Our Nation.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

"What Would Make Our Home A Good Place For You?"

(If only heliotrope and salvia were good cut flowers)

If there is one recurring stress that perplexes me more than chore assignments, I don't know what it is.

Last week's AmZyg 'moral inventory' confessed the guilt over how untrained my choreless childhood was,  how that guilt renders me disabled as chore foreman, and how my kids have figured that out about me (and exploit it pretty well).

(That Ignored Wall Detail)

Enter ystdy's !LaborDay! broadcast on Focus.  Swept, did dishes and culled vase flowers while listening to it four or five times this afternoon.  What I learned: with the kids all but all moved out so that the bulk of household upkeep falls on me, it doesn't make sense to be outside gardening anymore.

The good news is that I must've done something right. That front landscape could never have emerged without kids taking up the slack indoors. Except for the day we layered the original compost-in-place, I scarcely recall any child of mine out there weeding. I'd even try to bribe them with $1per weed offers. Nuthin'. But while I was out there pruning, somebody must've been in here sweeping up. (We can all guess who it was... er-hem. Her name probably starts with the first letter in Cinderella...)

I never thought to sit down with the family and say, like the woman in today's broadcast, "What would make our home a good place for you...?" and proceed to a healthy conversation about what they all think should go into a chore system.  Now that they're (chorelessly) launched, I'm starting to figure out what "makes them tick." Who knew that the Boy cares if there's grime on the piano keys? Who knew the girls like our house to look like an eclectic flop house when friends stop by?

Who knew that red spray paint in the hands of teenage boys could invite such artistry...?
No one 'fessed up, but we named it after a prime suspect
Had we sat down to discuss what they like, I would've learned that nobody notices when weeds pop up outside, so,,,, why should I care?

Interview with the authors of their HowTo Figure It All Out book:{E1C9F90F-4593-40F4-BDD7-54BB53D78690}

Authors'  "Who's Responsible for What" worksheet:

"I hoed, planted, weeded, pruned, fertilized and cut these all by myself! Not."

- - - - - - - -
Gasp. What I learned after re-reading this, is that the gardens front and back emerged out of sheer need to escape my children as they studied inside; evidence of an art deprived and harried homeschool mom who found her sanity and solitude 'in dirt.'