You have to be taught

My parents were part of a strict Protestant sect in a rural town in the Midwest. Our town's population was about 450, including farm families. There were four churches of different denominations, and most of them were also strict.

No movies, no dancing, eating where liquor was served, basically the choices for a date was also strict.

Not only was it a strict place, but a white bread place. I had never seen a person of different color, race, faith until I was in college. The world was opened up, somewhat scary and always exciting. South Pacific was much the same, but heartbreaking in conflict of WW2, meeting indigent peoples. Respect? 

West Side Story, we have seen it in many stage plays.  The social, political, and people of that era says so much the 50s didn't say.

South Pacific stage play

West Side Story

What I watched and understood as a teenager morphed as I became an adult. Great musical, great actors and voice! Great messages, if you look for them.

And now, as the 21st century is rolling down the tracks, we still have to look at the world around us and see the horrific things done to humans, some in the name of education and others in the way of ignorance, some to hurt on purpose and others to get even.

 

Being strict means paying attention to choices made and seeing how they affect me, my life, my beliefs, and ultimately my life.

 

How does this sound to you? 

 

Looking for answers

Uh huh. Yes. Oh really?

Perhaps one of the annoying habits and the hardest to break that people possess is not listening to what other people are saying.  Not just nodding politely, but is one actively listening with understanding in their eyes?

Guilty. I am so guilty of this. 

Over my lifetime, my mind has always been wandering, thinking about what I want to say in answer to their words. I want to tell my story! Let me interrupt you and tell my story. Their last sentence comes to a logical end, then I grab the reins before they reach the full stop.

Their eyes glaze over briefly before I hit my stride and then they relax. Oh, well, they think, politely smiling. Are they also mind-plumbing for their next reply?

It doesn't end with conversations. When our progeny were small, I would sit in church and the pastor would be preaching, sincerely presenting the Word of God. I fed my youngest progeny Cheerios and let the middle progeny play with his cars. The oldest one was quietly drawing.  

What was I doing? Hearing Pastor talk and nodding my head in agreement. What was I really doing?  

I was wondering if the crock pot chicken would be done. Would Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce) be on after I washed dishes? Did I move the wet clothes to the dryer?

Yes, inane random thoughts would invade my brain, while I nodded in response to God's message.

Perhaps the worst not-listening is when God is talking to me.

We have an on-going conversation throughout the day with me querying Him and then hearing His first four words, before I jump in: Yes, I am right.  Then my mind wonders off to laundry or dinner.

Let God Talk.  Then, wait. Don't cut Him off. He knows what you are going to say, but He wants you to hear Him. 

Let God Talk. He knows the answers to questions you are asking. He understands your fears, your worries. God is in charge. 

Let God Talk. He has a plan for your life. Even though you groan and shout at Him, He is big enough to absorb your pain and your anger.

Don't interrupt God. Don't ignore God. Don't guess what He is going to say.

Be still and know that I am God. Psalms 46:10

Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. Matt. 7:7

Let. God. Talk.

AND then LISTEN.

 

He listens. Do we?

 

Movers on a farm

                                                                        MOO-VERS 

On a farm, cows are not pets in any way shape or form. Oh sure, when they are calves, they are sweet, fun to stroke. But just you wait, things change.

This poem is from "On the Bright Side" Bright side, good thoughts.

All I ever needed to know I learned from a cow.

If it’s good, milk it for all its worth

Successful people are moo-vers and shakers

Don’t just be one of the herd.

The cream always rises to the top

Don’t stoop to a barnyard mentality

Don’t be bossy

It’s better to have milked and churned than to have never milked at all.

If you need to get somewhere, hoof it.

Some days can e udder frustration

If you’re feeling low, moo yourself a little song

Chew your food 50 times before swallowing.

Don’t let others corral you.

Munch hay while the sun shines.

He who lives with the herd learns to watch his step

Following your heart will always steer you in the right direction.

Party till the cows come home!

Live for-heifer young

Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere is moo moo

Author Unknown

Jackson Laux: tractor wizard; farmers of all ages love to meet him and talk tractors. 
 

 There are so many tractor and jazz videos. Who knew? Cows love jazz.

 Being a farm girl gives me a different perspective than most  bloggers.While other teenage farm girls had activities outside the farm work.  I think they had color TVs and A/C. 

Black then white to black....

 

Words rumble to tell

Of a nation, a song sung and then

Whispered down a dark highway of history.

Like black keys on a piano,

Their role fades with age.

Keys are owners of music,

Silence is their warning.

BY Susan Kane, thecontemplativecat@blogspot.com 

The black and white keys are enigmatic, letting some go high, others go low. 

 Note to self: Let them go. 

The underlined words are from 2016, of the Wednesday Words Challenge

Wednesday Words is writing experience created by Delores at  Under the Porch Light  more than a decade ago, and many bloggers use it to try different genre.  Delores had computer problems, and passed this onto several other faithful bloggers: The Elephant's Child and Drifting through life. The 6 underlined words are the choices.

 Go to these sites and find some other bloggers who are waiting just for you. 

 

This is like my old piano, left on the farm. 

The Moment Charlie Kirk met Jesus face to face.

 

What can be said about Charlie Kirk? 

The large campus of students gathered on Thursday at a university of Utah. Numbers were estimated around 1,000+ and they were exciting to see Charlie Kirk. All over the world, people are mourning his assassination.

 What can I say about Kirk?  He was not afraid of truth. 

He was tremendous.  He was an honest, factual, open and helpful. Kirk traveled from campuses and around America, sharing his faith and belief to studentd were welcomed to talk to them, ask questions, express their thought and opinions.

Charlie Kirk asked questions and answered them with his wealth learned through his Relationship with God.  He was a warrior for Christ. Hard to describe but he was bold, unafraid, and knowledgeable. 

But, guessing from the reactions from liberal politicians, he rubbed them the wrong way. He didn't take their criticisms or nasty insinuations seriously  He answered their questions, and many walked away thinking about the answers.

 

All over the world countries are holding commemorating Charlie Kirk. He is with God, and God's plan set this all in motion.  There will be many people who come to these to celebrate his life and salvation.

 

 

In London 

   

Dancing with Daddy

                                                    What a dad! 

I was there, witnessing the whole thing.  Being Grandma, I had this same battle with the Mommy years ago, and knew how this would all go down: Whoever holds the credit card wins the battle.  But it won’t be easy.

As Lily sobbed about the discarded hooker dresses for grade school dances. I picked one up and examined it.  The seams were already splitting, the threads were ragged, and one washing would rip this sad excuse for a dress apart. 

In the end, Mommy and Lily took home a beautiful yellow eyelet dress tied with a spring green ribbon and a daisy, perfect for a Father-Daughter Dance.

             

 

What bothered me about the whole dress saga was how girls are being bombarded with the image of sexy dresses as the acceptable fashion wear for under-teens. 

This development stage of giggling little girls is being ripped away from my grandchild.  Who she is and what she will be--all is being undermined by current societal standards.

She is being told that her value is in how she measures up to other females.  Her value is how she fits in with today’s market.  

Her value increases when she displays her 'goods', before there are any goods to display.

Females everywhere:  You are more precious than any jewel or gem.  
Who you are cannot be decided by the time you are 18 and eager to take on the world.  
 

                                     Hold yourself tightly.
 

Understand your personal value comes from within, not from the world. 
God created you and has a plan for your life.  
 

                                You are precious.

 

Dancing with your daddy in your pretty yellow dress is more important than one can ever know.

 

Etsy 

 

Aunt Evangeline's faithfulness

 

vessel in the making

 

Great Aunt Evangeline always visited on my birthday, as regular as calendar and clock. Auntie E was full of so many things, most of them really irritating.  Adages? She had them. Shameless bragging? Overload there. A hoard of wisdom?  Good there, too.

Auntie E was a bland plain woman, with legs like stems. So utterly huge to the point of bursting, her size dominated any room. A successful business woman, she owned her own brokerage, always possessing great insight on sales and trends. 

 

And, believe it or not, that lady had a great golf swing. 

Yet, for all the things I hated about her, I loved her for them. In so many ways, Auntie E was a vessel of kindness to all she knew. While I possessed just a vestige of humanity, Auntie E loved and was loved, cared and was cared for, gave and then was given. 

I was none of those things. Still am. Yet, I will continue trying.

This is a re-post from 2019 of Wed. Words, a writing challenge that invites writers to try different genres.

 

There are no concidences.

 

All photos from this Source

 

Throughout my life, I have heard about events when one person’s random decision changed his/her life or even saved their life. 

I was going to turn left and head to the store, but I forgot my list. Went back home, and then heard that the store was hit by a tornado.  I could have been killed…

Or

…We were walking on the trail when I slipped.  Bob helped me up, and then the trail just ahead collapsed.  We would have been on it!

Random coincidences?  I believe more and more that there are no coincidences, or that things just happen.  Events are ordained, and the choices we make determine the outcome.

This is hard to explain.  In Isaiah 30:21

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it…’

Throughout my life, this has happened.  Once when I was coming out from a store, I decided to take the street to the right where one shop sold pecans instead of going left where I wanted to buy fabric.  I would eventually go to both stores.  But, by going right, I ran into a friend who was desperate to get home to her dying husband.  I drove her to her home.

Another time while I was traveling, I needed to find my daughter who would meet me somewhere, after I called her.  My cell phone was almost dead, I was in a foreign country where English was not universally spoken, and I was lost.  Deciding to turn left and go to a bus-hub corner, I made my last possible phone call.  She answered; she was across the street in a café with red umbrellas.  They had decided to have a coffee there spur of the moment.

This seems to happen more often to me, as I have learned to be aware of that ‘voice behind me’.

What about you?  Have you ever had an experience like that?  What happened?

 

Driving down the highway...

 

 Route 66

 

Memories of good restaurants cling to everyone, triggered by simple smells, quick visual flashes, some notes of music.  Maybe sautéed onions with bacon bring back that little Mom and Pop place near the childhood home.  

 

Or, is it the exquisite fresh baking bread that reminds one of a marvelous place by a favorite coffee shop? The oldies on radio summon up a summer vacation when there were many summers to come.

Whatever the sense might be, everybody identifies with a familiar  place locked in the memories of good places or unique experiences. 

What about a remote place, located in the middle of a desert wasteland?  And, if that restaurant has an unusual name, would you stop there?

                                      Good food. Good people.

 

 

RoadKill Café, 504 W. Highway 66, Seligman, Arizona, is such a place.  “Unique” isn’t adequate to describe this place.

Their motto is:  "You Kill It, We Grill It!"

Located on Route 66  just off Freeway , the town of Seligman, AZ, has kept its old West and small town flavor. 

  

The menu offers many fine entrees, such as "Splatter Platter", 

         

 Deer Delectables, Bad Brake Steak, 

 

         Fender Tender, Caddie Grilled patty,

 

         Swirl of Squirrel,  

 

Big Bagged Stag, Highway Hash, 

 

 Almost-Crossed-the-Road-Chicken, and other delights.***

 

 

                                              

 Seligman, AZ

 

These offerings have not been collected off the road. That's the vultures' jobs. They eat heartily, picking the bones.

 

Eat up, folks! 

Grace, God's Grace

 

2019 to 2021 to ? was a time with a sense of disorientation. The days? What month?  We are lost in a time conundrum (Star Trek or Galaxy Quest), and no matter how hard we try to break free, we are lost.

 Lost, but then can be found again. We look for lost glasses or keys, intensely. Do we look for what God has given us?  Were it not for God's grace, I would be lost and probably dead, dealing with depression and PTSD.  

Were it not for grace, I would find myself wandering why I was alive. God sent Me salvation--all people can grab God's gift of salvation if they accept it.

Larnelle Harris has a voice that reaches into the listener.

 

Madness on the Play Ground

 

 

 

        Live long             

The teachers shivered as they watched the recess horde which never ever ended. It’s death or life, lies or truth. It's them or us. Their eyes glazed around the mob, knowing that some opportunity could lead to havoc.   

Like the crack of a jump rope, a type of sizzling chemistry suddenly burst around them, exploding loose. Screw philosophy and fact. Forget about instruction, all the facts from teacher education. Clothes? Who needs them when all hell breaks loose?

Somewhere, there is an agency, somewhere that will set the playground in order. Over near the swings there would be a huddled group of people, clutching boxes of books, reading as if their lives depending on it. The agency will know how to help them all. Soon.

I wouldn’t count on help coming anytime soon

I am well versed in recess duty.  There is no joy in that place. In fact it is hell.

 The colored words are a Wednesday Word collection from ages ago, 2019.. Recess memories still remain.