Luther and Flexibility

Dr. Luther over at Luther at the Movies stated:

Let it never be said that Martin Luther (Docktor) is
not flexible!

It's true...and here's proof. Not bad for all that junk food he eats!

More Pachalbel

Polly over at Favorite Apron sent me the link to this....its a hoot

note: the language does get a bit rough at the end.....

Rhymes with Taco Bell

Recently, our local classical radio station, which is up at the high end of the dial and difficult to get a clear signal, has acquired our classic rock station at 94.1 FM and will commence playing classical music on a stronger signal on May 1st at 10 a.m.

Until then, however, they keep playing Pachabel's Canon over and over again. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's been really interesting, because they play many different versions that feature different instrument families...piano, strings, horns, classical guitar, flute, and even a synthesizer version (but I do really hate the version where someone is whisper-singing in the background "when...will...I....touch....you....again"). It's been very educational, and really, there are worse songs they can pick to do so. It's become a running joke in the car.

"Hey Mom, I'd like to hear some Pachabel's Canon." Maggie or Chris says when they are tired of listening to our regular ESPN.

"Really, hmmm I wonder if its on. Wow...what a coincidence! Here it is!" I exclaim. And then we listen to various versions for the next half hour.

But they haven't sufficiently explained why just one song until May 1st. But I have a theory. At least, my imagination has run away with me.

What if there is one last d.j., stuck in the 1970's, unable to ponder the fact that "A Horse With No Name" won't be played four times a day in Fort Wayne anymore, is holed up in the booth and he won't leave. Hunger strike....whatever. So to get him out, to break his spirit, this whole broadcast is actually them just blasting Pachabel's Canon into the building until he can't take it anymore and finally runs screaming from the building....

I have to say, we're going on two weeks now. I admire his tenacity.

Domo Arigato....

Lutheran Carnival XLVIII is up at Living Sermons. Thank you so much Pastor Boarts for all your hard work.

Common Sense from a Pastor's Wife a Woman Who is Married to a Pastor

I confess, one of my favorite activities is to look at my Site Meter (TM, I'm sure) and see where all of you are from (for a while, I thought most of you were from St. Louis, but then I realized that it just puts the dot in the center if it can't tell where you are from. I was thinking "I know it's the Lutheran 'holy city' but, come on!"). What really intrigues me is not only where you are from, but how you found me.

I get about ten hits a day (and sometime more) from various searches for the term "pastor's wife." This can be "how to behave as a pastor's wife," "I hate my pastor's wife," "I hate being a pastor's wife," the mellower "tired of being a pastor's wife," "what should a pastor's wife wear?" " and I could go on and on. Some of them I find amusing. Some I find sad and I wish I could reach right through my screen and give a hug.

Sometimes it makes me think that I should write more about the daily ins and outs of being a pastor's wife, but in the end, this blog isn't about the ins and outs of being a pastor's wife, its about ME and life in general (well, to be entirely truthful).

Maybe because I am so NOT the stereotypical pastor's wife that I run screaming from anything that seems "stereotypical pastor's wife-ish." Maybe because even though it occasionally intrudes on me and smacks me in the forehead, overall, I still consider it one of my minor roles, at least when I am happy, which is most of the time. Even on Sundays, 90% of the time anymore, I am simply a sinner in the pews rejoicing in God's forgiveness. If any "role" actually dominates my waking hours its that of being a homeschooling mom, and the pervading desire to have an occasional 20 minutes alone that leaves me fleeing to the computer room and cursing that there are no locks on the doors....(ok, joking. well, kind of joking).

So, since I don't want to write about it a lot, I do consider it part of my responsibility to point out when others write about it. Emily, over at The Children of God has written an excellent post, and if you want to know about how to view "pastor's wifedom" go check out what she has to say.

I LOVE Parsonage Improvements!

Last month, after a leak under my sink and some serious plumbing issues, we discovered that the seal around the sink had been bad enough for long enough to have rotted the countertops....SO....



BEFORE: not bad, a little plain (but with cute flowers imprinted in it) but definitely difficult to even keep appearances of cleanliness




After: Shiny new sink and dramatic new countertops (I even got to pick)

Happy Happy Joy Joy


Now, time to paint...


(thank you to the Board of Church Properties!!)

Partial Birth Abortion Ban Upheld

Thanks to Luther at the Movies for this link to a New York Times article .

I couldn't help but cry when I was reading this article. I was amazed at how straightforwardly the article described the procedure of delivering the body of the baby into the birth canal (at this stage, the baby would be breech, or head up), and then having the baby's head crushed like a bug. Actually, I believe they insert a needle into the base of the neck and suck out the baby's brains so that the skull can collapse more easily.

This is touted as a ban on one of the safest procedures. I still do not understand, after having three children, how if a mother can deliver the baby's shoulders, why she cannot deliver the head. The shoulders have already passed through the cervix and the head remains to pass through (maybe because the arms might be coming through with the head?).

I remember being on the table when each of my living children were born full term by c-section, thinking "if an hour ago, I had presented a case that I was not ready to be a mother, we could be laying here preparing to kill my baby right now"

While some fear that this could be leading to an end to all abortions after twelve weeks into the pregnancy, the article states that there are other methods that can be used. The most common is a D&E, or Dilation and Evacuation. Here's the Wikipedia definition:

The first step in a D&E is to dilate the cervix. This is often begun about a day before the surgical procedure. Enlarging the opening of the cervix enables surgical instruments such as a curette or forceps to be inserted into the uterus. The second
step is to remove the fetus. Either a local anesthetic or general anesthesia is given to the woman. Forceps are inserted into the uterus through the vagina and used to separate the fetus into
pieces, which are removed one at a time. Lastly, vacuum
aspiration is used to ensure no fetal tissue remains in the uterus (such tissue can cause serious infections in the woman). The pieces are also examined to check that the entire fetus was removed.

"Used to separate the fetus into pieces." Used to CUT the fetus into pieces, decapitate, rip it up, and then systematically remove the limbs, the head, the torso, etc. from the uterus, in reality. Wikipedia also states that a "partial birth abortion" is medically referred to as an "intact dilation and extraction."

In both of these cases, actually in all abortion procedures, excluding RU-486 and the "morning after" pill, the mother is dilated for the procedure. Probably the biggest risk to her health has to do with infections from vacuums and knives being put in her uterus, as well as wounds and bleeding resulting. In most cases, if dilation occurs, the pregnancy terminates, because the baby is not held in the uterus. Think of the risks that women with incompetent cervices face.

A little over eight years ago, I was 18 weeks pregnant when I found out that my baby had died in the womb. Ultrasounds showed no movements, no heartbeat could be found, and judging from his size, it had happened and the amount of amniotic fluid that remained, my doctor estimated that it had happened a couple of weeks before. She said standard procedure in this matter was to refer me to an abortion clinic, because those were the doctors who had experience performing the D & E procedure. We refused. I wasn't going to put myself or something that had been so precious into the hands of these murderers. So I was induced (another common method of abortion after twelve weeks). It wasn't over in an hour like a D & E would've been, but my baby was born whole, and once I was dilated, he really just slipped out. Noah had these amazingly perfectly defined hands and feet . I was amazed at their beauty. I could see the nail beds. His body, especially his face and his skin, had already lost some of their definition and characteristics, but there was no doubt that I was holding a perfectly made little boy in my hand (which was about his size). I am never really quite sure if fetal pictures make the point or are more about shock value, so I didn't post his picture here, but I did consider it. I remember showing it to my then almost two year old. Chris looked at it and said "baby." It was clear to him.

I don't buy the argument about safety. I really don't. I wasn't able to deliver two children at term because of a narrow pelvic arch, but a 16 week baby (the ones that they say need to be ripped apart) passed through easily. What is being argued by abortionists is safety. but if we are arguing safety (and a part of me is wondering why I'm discussing the safest way to brutally murder someone), it would be much safer to induce labor, or to simply induce dilation, which they already do. But its not convenient...it takes time. It also might drive it home that a baby is being born.

But Satan is not about that. When he reaches out to corrupt and destroy, he leaves his mark. It is not enough to bring them out of the womb and simply let them suffocate, we need to tear them to bits while they still feel it. We need to burn their flesh with chemicals so that they die writhing in pain. We need to squash their heads like cockroaches, and we need to proclaim to all that this is a virtuous and noble procedure that is needed to protect women everywhere.

God bless the Supreme Court. Please continue to pray that this evil practice where we prey on our very own children stops. Please God, make it stop.


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partial birth abortion
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Hallelujah Chorus

This really is rather impressive.....thanks to Kari for sharing!!

Thinking Blogger Award

Okay, things are more calm now....I can give this the attention that it is due. I am really honored that Unashamed picked me as one of her five, and I've been really contemplating whom I would choose. Honestly, there really are so many good blogs out there that get me really thinking. But these are the ones I decided on:

1. Cyberstones: This blog by Pastor David Petersen, the pastor of Redeemer Lutheran Church in Fort Wayne always stimulates thought, whether he is blogging about theological issues, poetry, or every day insights.

2. Favorite Apron: This blog is by a person that I consider to be a good friend, even though we've only met a couple of times. Polly has been making me think for years. She has a profound respect for the traditional, and the sanctity of the home, but she doesn't come across as pristine and perfect either. What she loves come through loud and clear, but also so do her struggles. I believe "authentic" is the word she would choose. She helps me keep my perspective.

3. Luther at the Movies: Always poignant, and always makes his point while also leaving me rolling in the aisles. There are times I wonder if the man is truly demented (not that that's bad), but then I realize "No, he's just Luther."

4. Deaconess Emily Carder at Quicunque Vult. I always relish reading her. I love reading how she brings the catechism into the every day teaching of her students and her straightforward manner of discussing theological issues.

5. and last but certainly not least, Orycteropus Afer at Aardvark Alley. He provides insight into the Church Fathers and our Lutheran heritage, has mde me laugh, and has gone well beyond the call of duty in his role as support and promoter of those who hold the vocation of "confessional Lutheran blogger."

So here you go guys...it was really hard to pick just five. I think we are really blessed to have such a profound presence in the Lutheran blogosphere that I spent a week struggling with who I picked, and I feel so guilty for all those that I left out. Some don't like having little "medals" on their blogs, so you're not going to hurt my feelings if you don't want to display....but I did want to call attention to some great, highly intelligent blogs out there.

Here's your trophy....some like gold, some like silver...just match it to the rest of your bling:

"Early" Communion

Today, I rejoice.

After months of discussing, catechizing, and debating; the children of our congregation will be welcome at the table when their parents and the pastor agree that they are able to examine themselves, and that they know what Luther states should be required of all Christians to commune.

"After confession and instruction in the Ten Commandments, the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's Supper...."

from Christian Questions with Their Answers...Small Catechism
(LSB p. 329)

If you read my blog, you know that this is a dear subject to me. But I really haven't addressed it on a personal note. I've been very grieved that my son, who has long been well-catechized and is ready, has not been able to commune. I've kept that part out of the issue when I have written about it, but it has grieved me. I know what it did to me to be ready and desirous of communing, and to be held off, knowing I had five years before I could.

My husband loves his flock, and he didn't want his son's communing well before what was "normal" to be something that caused offense, and he also knew that there was no particular reason why any person should wait so long if they truly desired to partake. So that required a process of making it clear why this was a good thing, why it should be the parents' responsibility to train their children in the faith and recognize when their own children were ready to come to be communed. Then he would examine them, continue in teaching if necessary, and allow them to come to the table if they are ready.

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Jackie Robinson

Today is the 60th anniversary of the day that Jackie Robinson became the first African-American Major League baseball player. It is also the 10th anniversary of the day his number, #42, was retired throughout all of baseball.

Baseball is the American pasttime. What happens on the field is often a reflection of what is going on in society (this is true of sports in general, but even moreso of baseball). I don't know why this is, maybe it is the nature of the game. Maybe it is that it has the perfect balance between team and individual, maybe 25 players on a team is big enough to be a microcosm of society, but not so big that everyone is assigned a specific special team or specialization, like in football that unless you are key to the game, you get forgotten. I don't know what it is, but it is true.

Baseball has been a reflection of what is going on in society. I think it still is. In the late 1800's, when most of the country was refusing to hire the Irish immigrant and belittling them as lazy and dirty (as we seem to do with any group of immigrants), they were still cheering them on as they were watching them and their next generation play on the teams they followed, and with that, names like Casey and O'Brien and all other things Irish became less foreign to us. I believe that is happening today with the plethora of good, talented, Hispanic players. When they are so good that they win our hearts, they become less foreign and more American, and we learn to incorporate that into our national identity.

Today we struggle with the idea of it is okay to change your body chemically in order to be a better player as we also struggle with the idea of artificial means to enhance our lives, our performance, our beauty...to define what role drugs play in our society, even legal ones...and even how does it effect the sanctity of life, since steroids and growth hormones end up tearing apart the human body, possibly causing disease and ending life prematurely. How much personal sacrifice is too much? Greed also - in how teams treat their players, how high can salaries go? How high can ticket prices go? How necessary are new stadiums and should the government or the owners pay for it? It really still is a microcosm of the world at large.

Jackie exemplified the biggest issue of the time. The biggest issue that needed to be confronted and dealt with. Because Jackie day in and day out excelled in the face of adversity that I can't even imagine, people realized that he was courageous, he was intelligent, he was being treated unfairly, and that he was a hero, and he was the very type of person, the very type of American, that we strive to be. Because of Jackie beliefs about race were challenged, and not just in baseball. It did not happen in a vacuum, and it helped bring about the changes that happened in the 1950's and 1960's.

This makes all of our lives better, it makes our country better. I would hate to be living in a country where we are defined by our skin color, or worse, thought to be subhuman because of it (and yes, I know that it is still far from perfect). I know things are not the way they should be, but Jackie Robinson is my hero as well, and his contributions have enriched my life beyond measure.

Last year, Zinedine Zedain, a Muslim player on the French National Team at the World Cup headbutted a player who allegedly insulted his mother and his sister. He very likely cost his team the World Cup, but was still named the MVP. I heard "well, if he did that, the player deserved it." Even a local journalist wrote about it. All I have to say in response is "Jackie Robinson."

When Branch Rickey chose Jackie Robinson as the Negro League Player that he wanted to have be the first African-American player in Major League baseball, he told Jackie that he had to be man enough to NOT fight back. This wasn't easy. Jackie was a strong man with dignity. He graduated from UCLA and knew what it was like to live where there wasn't segregation. But he took the insults, he took the pitches being aimed at his head, he took the death threats, and he played better and more gentlemanly so that any ideas about a black player being lazy, dumb, or not as good as a white player was so overcome by his example that he defeated those ideas with his actions.

I am proud that MY team is the team that was committed to changing the face of baseball. That my team was the team of Jackie Robinson. I am honored that I can hold him up as a hero to my children. I love walking into ballparks across the United States and having the first thing I see be Jackie Robinson's number amongst the retired numbers in every park. I am thrilled that as I watch baseball games today, that I see Cubs wearing Dodger jerseys with the #42 over their Cubs jerseys when it came time to sing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" and "God Bless America." It was a conscious decision by Branch Rickey and Walter O'Malley. It was one that was not done just for the sake of bringing in talented athletes, but to change and to challenge our society, and that Branch Rickey told every player that they would be traded if they would not play with him, and play their hearts out. But Jackie was the one who had to walk out on the field and change people's hearts and minds. I am proud that Jackie Robinson had "Dodgers" written across his chest as he did just that.

What I can't believe was that his wife, Rachel Robinson, said tonight that she was at every game. I know what it is like when church members aren't happy with something that my husband is doing at the time. It is painful. I focus on creating a comfortable home, being a good friend and making sure he feels loved and supported, but I often stay away if there is conflict (and there rarely is, but there have been times...) I can't imagine watching him go through that every day, voluntarily, with my baby in my arms, and having people hurl threats at me, too. I know how something comparatively trivial triggers my protective instinct, arouses my indignation, and causes pain. Watching her tonight, she is also truly a strong, dignified, friendly, personable woman (who knows her baseball and is still a Dodger fan!), and she is my hero, too, probably as much as Jackie is.

Sparrows

This morning I woke up to two little sparrows in my bird feeder. Cute as they were, this is not an unusual occurrance. There are frequently sparrows in my birdfeeder. Only my four year old gets excited about it. Excitement around here is when our resident pair of mourning doves comes to feed, or a robin gets daring enough to come eat. Blue jays, a woodpecker, and or the truly magical moment, when a cardinal comes...now that is excitement.

But lately I've been musing on sparrows more. They really are truly amazing. They are EVERYWHERE and there are so many of them! Yet are hardly noticable with their little brown feathers that blend into everything. I am sure they exist practically everywhere except at the Poles. We had them where I lived in the desert, and they are even chirping around on the warmer days of the Winter. I can't believe how tenacious these little cuties must be in the face of hardship.

The Bible even talks about them "Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? And yet not one of them is forgotten before God. (Luke 12:6)" They are only two cents for five because they are so plentiful, and they are still not worth much more than a little snack, and with their tendency to dare to go where food is available despite the risk, probably easy to catch. I doubt that there are many of us that would even consider eating them anymore, barring starvation. But I like looking at them as a reminder. They are common, all over the place, yet precious to God. Sometimes put on the earth to provide for our needs.

Often, I hear people say that it is not good to pray to win a soccer game or for various "little things in our life" because God cannot be bothered with such little things. Or they critique an athlete who points to God after they make a touchdown or a home run. The sparrows are a reminder to us that these people are just dead wrong. God cares about what someone else might determine as trivial. Sparrows seem to be nothing compared to some of the incredible birds that are out there. Yet God loves them and is keeping track of each one, just as He is the eagles and peacocks and cardinals. And He cares about how how much your 6 year old wants to win his soccer game or beat Tommy in a race just for once (whether He grants it or not). He cares about your clogged garbage disposal and how it is making you want to tear your hair out....just as much as he cares about whether a wildfire is approaching your house or whether the Queen of England is in mortal danger (it did say president, but I didn't want hits from the Secret Service). After all, He teaches us to pray "Give us this day our daily bread." And what is more basic than bread (and all it encompasses, the things we don't notice that He gives us each day)?

And besides, the sparrows would like the crumbs (so He uses us to provide for them, too!).

Knitting Update

I realized that it has been a long time since I have updated on my knitting projects. I think I just needed a break after my Epiphany deadlines and having my stomach kicked in from having Maggie's dress be too small (I'm working on fixing that now (gauge and I don't get along, if you couldn't tell).

So right now, here are the projects I'm working on (just click on the picture).....and its getting fun again

April knitting projects

Alleluia!!!

Alleluia, He is risen!!!!

He is risen, indeed!


There really is nothing like having the congregation break into "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" the instant that the chalice is put to my lips. Oh wow!

Thinking Blogger Award!!

I'm very honored that Unashamed over at Ask a Lutheran, chose to present me with a "Thinking Blogger Award." Now it is my responsibility to name five blogs that get me thinking, too. As this is the busiest weekend of the church year, I'm going to have to get on that next week (since it not only involves naming them, but notifying them!). But I didn't forget.

Thank you, Unashamed!!

Blogging Chicks

Two new blogrolls have graciously allowed me to be a member. Blogging Chicks and The Christian Blogosphere. I'm excited about it. Check them out further down on the sidebar.

My Weekend

My weekend was completely unsanctified. Designated Knitter and I had a vacation (Yes, I know it was Palm Sunday).

About a month ago, she heard that Stephanie Pearl McPhee, a.k.a. The Yarn Harlot, was going to be doing a book signing in Ann Arbor. So, I checked with my dad to see if we could stay at their lake house, which made me feel like I was 12 again. "Dad, can I have a friend spend the night?" I half-expected him to say "You know you aren't allowed to have friends over when we're not home!" But he said it was okay. My husband even begrudgingly agreed, because he always needs more challenges during Holy Week.

The trip was fraught with challenges. Just across the Michigan border, DK's car decided to have a flare up of an old repair problem (kind of like car Herpes, I guess), so we took it back and took the van. That night when we were knittin' and surfin' (she has a really cool cell phone that has a modem), and I realized I was getting hits on my blog from Time Magazine's website, so I started freaking out that the article was out and hoping that nothing was phrased so I would be stoned as a heretic or anything. It didn't even occur to me to look AT their website for the article.

So with that, we managed to get some sleep.

The next morning, we decided to go to Jackson to look for the magazine. But of course, we were going to Panera first....if we could find it. It is amazing how little I pay attention to things now when I am sitting in the backseat. So after about 4 trips around some of the less fine neighborhoods of Jackson, we called and got directions.

Then, we went to the yarn shop in Jackson, The Dropped Stitch (it was a nice place. Good selection of various types of yarn), and took off for the yarn shop in Brooklyn, Trees of a Feather, which is a cute little place in the coffee company building. One little room, but with baskets up the walls, and a great stock of Cascade 220 (especially the heathers), Noro, and a few others. I found a gorgeous yarn for a present I want to do for my mom (this is not an easy woman to shop for, let alone find a color that she would really seem to like). It was perfect.

We went to lunch in a little local joint, and right after we ordered, we got a call from the Dropped Stitch saying I'd left my knitting bag there (because its not a vacation if I don't leave something somewhere), and they were closing at 3:00. It was 2:15. So we requested our food to go, downed our soup, and dashed back to Jackson (here I was thinking we'd have everything done by noon and be able to knit all day). We managed to get that, and then we started driving home, and I missed the freeway, and we drove halfway to Ann Arbor before we realized what I did. And so back to Jackson....and once we got there, we realized...we have to get a magazine!

Here's the thing...I remember growing up when every aisle at the store had Time, Newsweek, and US News and World Reports....remember? Actually, I'd swear it was still like that five years ago. Nope. Not anymore. All of the magazines in every checkout line were chick magazines, tabloids, and other celebrity rags. The gigantic store of Meijer didn't have an issue of TIME anywhere in the whole dang store. Walgreen had one, kind of hidden, and it was dated April 2nd, so I assumed the link on the website (which was from the writer's blog) was early (have you ever noticed how bizarrely weekly magazines date their magazines? This is really strange considering how it has to do with current events, don't you think? I feel like Andy Rooney all of a sudden)

But, from 4 pm to 11 pm, we knitted and watched three movies (and seeing how the next day was Opening Day, one MUST watch Bull Durham. We couldn't get the Spanish subtitles off. In Spanish, the movie would've been rated PG...very conservative translator).

The next day took us to Ann Arbor. Out of any town I've been in, Ann Arbor reminds me the most of the West Coast, especially towns like Santa Barbara. I really love it. And it doesn't hurt anything that that it now has an IKEA close by. Oh, it was like a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I love IKEA. I got plates. I needed plates. But I coveted so much more.

If you don't know what IKEA is, it is a 3 story home store with inexpensive furniture and housewares that are still pretty cool....a two story playroom where they watch the kids for you, and a restaurant where they serve Swedish meatballs and lingonberry sauce. I really don't know how to describe it otherwise. But it is also a veritable madhouse on weekends (when we lived in California, and my son was little, we would spell out things. He caught on to the spelling of Ikea pretty quickly. So we'd just say we were going to Sweden).

So then off to the library. It turns out there must be something in the air because the poor Yarn Harlot had bad things happening to her from the moment she woke up in Cleveland at 3 in the morning. The hotel forgot to call her a taxi, she came within 30 seconds of missing her plane to Chicago, then when she switched to go to Detroit (who planned this thing???) The plane circled Detroit a few times and went back to Chicago, so she had to wait for another flight. Whining that she missed her flight and her cell phone went dead, the guy she was sitting next to, Brad, offered to drive her to Ann Arbor from Detroit. Thanks Brad...I'm glad you're not a psychopath.

But, she was 2 1/2 hours late, so I got to explore downtown Ann Arbor and that was nice. But she did show up (thanks to Polly who pointed out that I forgot to mention that fact. This blog is apparently catching the frenetic mood I had!). She was good and very funny. She took pictures of us and sock. We didn't literally get to meet her. The meeting room was already full, so we were upstairs where they had a big screen projector, and we had to get the Designated Knitter home to finish laundry and catch the end of the Cardinals/Mets opener.

We also went to Whole Foods, where I got organic oranges that were cheaper than regular oranges in Fort Wayne...and then we raced home. The fog was still over my brain apparently, because I wouldn't be surprised if Designated Knitter refused to ever drive with me again.

Believe it or not, it was fun and relaxing, despite all the hurrying and getting lost! I'm ready for the next trip!!!!

LIFE BEGINS!!!!

"There are only two seasons...Winter and baseball"

---Bill Veeck

PLAY BALL!!!