tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15577172222550277602024-03-13T09:34:52.156-07:00Ted and Jo StoneUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger369125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-54536289431794997012019-02-08T01:34:00.001-08:002019-02-09T09:09:55.172-08:00Good King; Bad King<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mr. President: I liked your speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might want to hire a cup bearer, just to be on the safe side.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nehemiah, in the Bible had been a cup bearer in Persia for Queen Esther’s husband, King Artie something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took a break from that job to build a wall around Jerusalem...to fortify it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Many</span> people thought he was nuts. You two have that in common. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This man trusted God with his whole heart while satan let fly every trick he had up his sleeve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BUT, the wall went up! ...in record time.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Since you are a speed writer on Twitter you may be a speed reader too, so, between meetings with today’s world leaders, you might get some pointers about how to do your job by reading the bio of long-ago King Hezekiah. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He undertook his assignment with humility...confessing that he had no clue about how to do anything but bear cups. That gave God a <i>huge </i>advantage...but his wife secretly worshipped a fertility goddess...and so their son filled up with alligators the very swamp his daddy had drained. That part of the story isn't so good, but it doesn't cancel out Hezekiah's rewards for obedience. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good King. Bad King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we read the record of the kings in one fell swoop our emotions fly right off the rails. Best to take them in chunks.</b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I am ninety years old and my thoughts are still not always His, nor are my ways His either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. President. Donald: Do not, for a minute “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">lean unto your own understanding</i>”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course, being human, you will.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Out here in wacko California, not all of us have bowed the knee to Baal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May that give you hope for the country.<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Love, </b><br />
<br />
<b>Jo</b></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-11696866030119661452019-02-07T17:05:00.000-08:002019-02-08T01:19:43.876-08:00Good king; Bad king<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mr. President: I
liked your speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might want to hire a cup -bearer, just to
be on the safe side. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nehemiah, in the
Bible had been a cup-bearer in Persia for Queen Esther’s husband, King Artie
something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took a break from that job
to build a wall...far to the north...around Jerusalem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Many</span> people thought he was nuts. You two have
that in common. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This man trusted God
with his whole heart while satan let fly every trick he had up his sleeve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BUT, the
wall went up! ...in record time.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Since you are a speed
writer on Twitter you may be a speed reader too...so, between meetings with today’s
world leaders, you could be encouraged by reading the bio of long-ago
King Hezekiah. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started his assignment with humility...confessing that he had no clue about how to do the job. That gave God a
<i>huge </i>advantage...but his wife secretly worshipped a fertility goddess...and so
their son filled up with alligators the very swamp his daddy had drained. That part of the story isn't so good, but it doesn't cancel out Hezekiah's rewards for obedience. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good King. Bad King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we read the record of the kings in one
fell swoop our emotions fly right off the track. Best to take them in chunks.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I am ninety years old
and my thoughts are still not always His, nor are my ways His either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. President. Donald: Do not, for a minute
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">lean unto your own understanding</i>”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course, being human, you will.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Out here in wacko California,
not all of us have bowed the knee to Baal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>May that give you hope for the country.<o:p></o:p></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Love, </b><br />
<br />
<b>Jo</b></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-25670226510437296992019-02-07T16:53:00.000-08:002019-02-07T16:53:16.677-08:00Good King; Bed King<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mr. President: I
liked your speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might want to hire a cup bearer, just to
be on the safe side. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nehemiah, in the
Bible had been a cup-bearer in Persia for Queen Esther’s husband, King Artie
something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took a break from that job
to build a wall ...a thousand miles to the north...in Jerusalem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most people thought he was nuts. You two have
that in common. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This man trusted God
with his whole heart while satan let fly every trick he had up his sleeve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BUT, the
wall went up! ...in record time.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Since you are a speed
writer on Twitter you may be a speed reader too...so , between meetings with today’s
world leaders, you would do yourself a favor by reading the bio of long-ago
King Hezekiah. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started out
humble...admittedly not knowing his right foot from his left. That gave God a
<i>huge </i>advantage...but his wife secretly worshiped a fertility goddess...and so
their son filled with alligators the very swamp his daddy had drained.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good King. Bad King.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we read the record of the kings in one
fell swoop our emotions fly right off the track. Best to take it in chunks.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I am ninety years old
and my thoughts are still not His, nor are my ways His either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. President. Donald: Do not, for a minute
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">lean unto your own understanding</i>”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course, being human, you will.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Out here in wacko California,
not all of us have bowed the knee to Baal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>May that give you hope for the country.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Your friend, <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Jo Stone<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-57640617866159232952019-02-01T09:30:00.003-08:002019-02-01T16:14:24.867-08:00Love and Truth<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Ted and I
met her when we spoke at an event. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She came to us and asked to come for counseling. In one session we knew this lady deserved the best we could give her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She came into our home and lived with us for several months. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Let’s call
her “Roselle”. She would like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Her favorite color was<i> rose. </i></span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Sexual abuse
is horrible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spiritual abuse is worse. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many times this precious one had gone to the
altar in her church for healing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
ulcers on her legs remained and worsened; body weight increased. She </span>was told she did not
have enough faith to be healed. Lies weigh so much.<br />
<br />
Now she was fifty years old...exhausted from years of satan’s accusations, the loss of four babies that died in her womb, sacrificial ministry, the mothering of nine foster children and adoption of
three. All the while she guarded the
secret of her uncle’s sexual assaults from even her own conscious mind...but her
soul knew; her body knew. Her spirit was wounded to near collapse. If the lies remained hidden from her mind
there would be no healing. Little girl cries came from deep within her...many in the night. I held her,
Ted held me and the Lord held all three of us.<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">The evil one
resisted releasing some of the memories. As the lies were supplanted
by God’s Truth, gradually the fears subsided and the cries ceased. There was
no hurrying the work of the Holy Spirit. In His time Roselle went to her home, then resumed ministry until the Lord took her Home... last week. She had called a month or so ago; we made a
tentative date to play pinochle. “You saved my life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No, we didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> His Love and Truth set her free. </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Did Ted and
I have the “gift of healing”? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had His gift of love, laced with
His powerful Word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing else is
needed.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Love, Jo</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Afterthoughts: </span><br />
Tinnitus report: The crickets still cricket and the truck still revs its motor...but not quite as loud. Now, who is going to come and play pinochle with me? J</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-11803713865084488812019-01-25T15:48:00.001-08:002019-01-26T15:48:45.181-08:00Dress Rehearsal<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Paul did </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">not know how long he would be here
when he wrote Philippians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t
matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To live? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>to die? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> How long did it take him to figure that out? ...most of his lifetime. </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was eleven years old when the second World War broke out. ...on two fronts. One of my brothers fought for our country in the Air Force in the South Pacific. He was gone for three years. We hovered at our mail box, hoping to hear from him. ...tuning into radio for any news from that theater. </span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> The other brother and his wife moved to our farm to help my dad. </span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> My grandmother was dying, leg
amputated from diabetes. Young German soldiers from a nearby
prison camp worked for us at harvest time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Few American homes were unaffected, drastically, by the hell of war. </span></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was little time or energy for my parents to think about my future after high school. There were no scholarships available. I so much wanted to go to college. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My boyfriend, Ted left for the Navy; the Shepherd/Collie puppy he had </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">given me was killed in the road. I walked that </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">country road in despair. My farmer dad who worked so hard for every penny paid two hundred dollars for a year in business college. That degree opened a door for a job on a college campus. In that college town I was invited to a little church where the "real-deal Christians" loved me to Christ. A very young Billy Graham came to speak on a Sunday morning. In a few months I would meet him again in Chicago at Moody Bible Institute's Flounder's Week where he would be the featured speaker. (You knew I would drop his name. ...once more. ...couldn't help myself.) He invited me to his Christian school in Minneapolis. Finally I was a student in college. Ted mustered out of the Navy, came to Christ and came to college, on to Dallas Seminary and into ministry. Many of you who read this blog are part of the rest of the story. There would b<i>e</i> no story worth telling without you.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>sixty years we served the Lord together. </b><b>My darling has been in Heaven for nine years. I didn't think I could make it for nine DAYS without him, but the Lord, my family, my mission board and a host of supporters have come right along beside me to help me to the end. When will that come? I have no idea. My body is shutting down but the "eyes of my understanding" seem to be opening wider. Again, I "walk a country road". ...not in Kansas, but in Bear Valley Springs, California. ...with my cats. I am not in "despair" as once I was, at seventeen. Now I am ninety years old. Mine has been a rich, fulfilling life. Apparently, it is not over. ... not quite. I continue to feed a few sheep at a time. Precious </b></span><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">ones like you are scattered around the world, feeding more sheep. Rarely a day goes by that I do not hear from some of you. Keep telling me how He is using the Word of God through you. I will pray for you. Never, ever compare your ministry to others. He is using you in a unique way with just the people He chooses to send to you. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>This last chapter of my life is much quieter, but it is very precious. When it is time for a NEW BEGINNING, He will come to fetch me and usher me into the "crowd of witnesses" that is already there. Will I see Ted and my son immediately? I don't know. It doesn't matter. Many things do not "matter" as once they did. You know, don't you that this life is but a</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> dress rehearsal? The BEST is yet to come!</i></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Count your blessings;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>name them, one by one.<o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>And it will surprise you what the
Lord has done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-89912889525368423882019-01-17T21:54:00.000-08:002019-01-18T09:20:58.574-08:00STOP!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 27.6px;">Since we moved to this mountain a small chorus of crickets has chirped in my ears. Tinnitus is not uncommon for high level dwellers. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few days ago these phantom critters brought their relatives. A diesel truck delivered them.<br />
<br />
When something unusual shows up I call Cathy and Rick, my next door neighbors to see what they think. They came. They listened/ In the tenderest tone of voice such as is reserved for very small children and elderly neighbors, they said to me: "Jo, there are no crickets and there is no diesel truck." </div>
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<span style="line-height: 27.6px;">Yesterday C and R. insisted on going with me to my doctor. Dr. Hall cleaned out my ears. ...or tried to. One of them is refusing to give up whatever is stored in there, so I am oiling it for a few days. Meanwhile, the band plays on and the truck keeps right on running. </span><br />
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I'm on a roll, so I might as well tell you about my eyes:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have little whirling circles in them. ...like ballerinas in tutus. There is no cure. <br />
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Because it is becoming frustrating to read I listen now to books on audio. C.S. Lewis' "Screwtape Letters" seems to be what I need to counter the current aggravations. </div>
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<span style="line-height: 27.6px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 27.6px;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="line-height: 27.6px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 27.6px;">We are fearfully and wonderfully made.</span></i><span style="line-height: 27.6px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 27.6px;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 27.6px;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-23090179680187542942019-01-17T21:18:00.002-08:002019-01-17T21:43:30.605-08:00Stop it!<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Since we
moved to this mountain a small phantom chorus of crickets has chirped in my ears. They have thoughtfully kept the volume low. I have been able to tune them out. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few days ago suddenly
the United States Army Cricket Marching Band showed up, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>along with a diesel truck , with motor running. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a startling moment.</div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">When
something unusual shows up I call Cathy and Rick Nextdoor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(That’s their last name:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Nextdoor”.) They hurried over. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>walked around and through my house, then in
the tenderest possible tone of voice such as is reserved for very small babies
and elderly neighbors, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>they said:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jo, there is no truck and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there are no crickets.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Yesterday,
the three of us went to see my doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Her
name is Dr. Susan Hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She comes to my Summer Singalongs;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>therefore I
like her.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Her </span>P.A. went to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>...pushing a pointy light into first one ear, then the other. Whatever was in one ear
dislodged. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not so, the other. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, the band plays on and the truck
keeps right on running with a steady, low-pitched hum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am guessing that some of you suffer from Tinnitus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One person told me about the “ear candle”
treatment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am not a big fan of pain,
so will <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>stick with my doctor’s efforts to
get rid of whatever is chirping and roaring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
I'm on a roll, so I might as well tell you about
my eyes:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have little black
and red whirling circles in them that go ‘round
and round. ...like ballerinas in tutus. This pesky distraction also has a name: Macular Degeneration. </div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Those parts of me are all I want to talk about today. ...maybe
ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Send only tried and successful
suggestions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">We are fearfully and wonderfully
made.</span></i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-4502121145684180682019-01-11T16:04:00.002-08:002019-01-11T16:06:16.093-08:00Now, Lord? You actually had to be there to believe it. No one who lived during The Jesus Movement of the 60's and 70's saw it coming. We were swept up in it. We remind one another that it can happen again. This would be a good time for it, don't you think? <br />
<br />
Love, Jo<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-89928939224679789102019-01-04T08:34:00.001-08:002019-01-06T06:41:43.611-08:00THE GOALOver Christmas I spent five days with members of my family who live to the north of me. Our son Jeff and his dear wife Carla are in full- time ministry as counselors and professors in universities. One of their daughters is in law school; the other will soon be a third-generation Dr.Stone. As she watched her grandfather’s life ebb away from a cancerous brain tumor she made up her mind to become a brain surgeon.<br />
<br />
We all need purpose. What’s mine? As my 90-year-old body tells me daily that it is 90 years old I must adjust my thinking regarding what is “purposeful”. Some days, just getting out of bed and getting dressed feels like an accomplishment.<br />
<br />
My love language is "words of encouragement." I love to give them and I love to receive them. Deeds are good, but without words, something is missing. "Silly?” you say. Probably. Over sixty years of marriage my husband sent me many birthday and anniversary cards with carefully chosen printed words he simply could not articulate. I kept them all. As he lay in his hospital bed for eleven months I read those cherished words back to him. He would smile and sometimes squeeze my hand.<br />
<i><br /></i>
Pulling the New Covenant card on Our Father will not cut it. The First Commandment has always been and always will be His requirement. You know what it is. Like Rachael, Jacob’s favorite wife, we can try to hide our idols by sitting on them, but God knows who, what and where they are. He wants us to finish our race unencumbered by idols that needs be pitched into the ditch by the side of the road.<br />
<br />
Some fellow pilgrims carry a weight of guilt from being told they do not have enough faith. This question comes to mind: "How much faith was required of Lazarus as he lay dead for four days in a grave outside the little town of Bethany?" I think the question better asked is: "How GREAT is my God?" <br />
<br />
Love, Jo<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-60363384212477017482018-12-21T05:31:00.001-08:002018-12-22T10:17:22.021-08:00Cherry Picking<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I walked out of my garage onto my driveway. The morning sun was shining on three big
bucks and their girlfriends. We stared
at each other. Were they plotting to “do me in”
like the reindeer that ran over Grandma? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I pulled up a chair, took a first sip of fresh-made coffee and settled in to watch the wild life show. After more staring, the Big 'Un made a decision, rose to his full stature and bounded up the hillside that leads to the upper level of my property. There stands the thousand-year-old Mighty Oak. "The Five" followed their leader, leaping effortlessly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Many years ago Ted and I sat in the swing under The Mighty Oak and prayed that many people in the beautiful Valley below us would come to Christ. God is still answering that prayer. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Under the branches of The Oak both of our sons were
married to their beloveds. For a third of a century many folk have gathered for fellowship while enjoying the splendor of Bear Valley a thousand feet below. Grandchildren have climbed The Oak and pushed each other in a swing that still hangs from a high branch. They stood on "Pride Rock", imagining themselves to be Mufusa, the Lion King. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> In
centuries past, probably Kawaiisu Indian families lived in the summer beneath The Oak. Here, they may have ground acorns for food. Pestles and grinding rocks are still being found in Bear Valley. They roasted their
wild game over an open fire; slept, conceived
and raised their children on this mountain. The Mighty
Oak saw it all. ...forcing its roots down and down so The Tree would not topple when assaulted by blizzards, high winds and earthquakes. This Oak and others on my property drink from deep running springs that never run dry. I do not water these majestic trees lest the roots creep back up to the surface, causing the trees to weaken and fall. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> If, at this Christmastime we are feeling some sadness, why wouldn't we? We humans cherry pick our memories, telling ourselves</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"> that all of our Christmases were white, and all the family gathered in perfect harmony. The truth is that m</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">ost holidays were
jammed with too many activities...too many command performances. ...too much
travel. ...too many generations to please, and we drew a sigh of relief when they were over. ...so why don't we just be content with where we are in life and enjoy who and what we've got left?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">What verse trumps the fray? I would love to hear yours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Here's mine: Jesus said:
“<i>Because I live, you also will live." </i> John 14:19<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love, Jo</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-38508678938501114852018-12-14T01:58:00.000-08:002018-12-14T04:02:33.919-08:00Healthy AgingRecently. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt guilty for feeding my aging cats cheap food; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so from Amazon <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ordered gourmet <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Healthy Aging”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">. </span>Puss'nBoots read the label, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>spit it out and tried to cover it up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel the same about the words “Healthy Aging”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why should I spring for “healthy” after all these years?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only things I have exercised throughout my life are my mouth, my mind and my fingers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, at 90, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nothing else wants to move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Down the road, around a curve and up a terrifying driveway lives Jackie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jackie is 95. This five foot high woman is determined to get me to exercise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She guilt-trips me by tooting her car horn in front of my house on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings at precisely 9:45.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In her little red car we wheel down and around the mountain curves to the gymnasium on the valley floor. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We sign in, grab a chair and join thirty or so other aging people who would rather be home in bed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know that if we don’t do this our kids might check us into Shady Pines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Margaret leads “Sit and Fit”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s good at it<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like her. ...and I like the music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve played most of it for years but haven’t moved to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of our husbands had two left feet so this is as close as we'll ever get to ballroom dancing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Margaret pushes the button on her tape player and a lovely tune lures us into gently waving our arms. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a trick to make us think this half hour is going to be less strenuous than a stroll around Cub Lake. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>M. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pushes the button again and some singer belts out<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re up and movin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>...then a Mariachi band pulls us into a mambo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our slow-beating hearts speed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sinatra comes on with “New York, New York”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ol’ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blue Eyes hits the final high note, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we’re juiced up and have quit thinking about what we're going to have for lunch. ...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>then “YMCA” gets us strutting around the gym like we’re in a United States military marching band.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, some of the marchers weigh in just under three hundred pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Glancing at them makes me feel, well, ... skinny. </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Margaret doesn’t want us to die of a heart attack on her watch, so she begins to quiet us down with Bing who croons an Hawaiian Christmas song that deludes us into imagining we’re wearing a hula skirt, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>swaying on the beach at Waikiki.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>East Asian instruments draw us into quick back and forth head movements like a Geisha. Palms together, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we sit in a lotus position. Margaret is decompressing us.<br />
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Class over, we stack our chairs, help one another to our cars and head home for a snack before shuffling to our bed for what may be a long winter’s nap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Speaking of Christmas, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>...not until after my birthday on the 14<sup>th</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>can’t understand why Jesus would be born so close to my birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For 90 years now all of the razzamatazz about His has all but eclipsed the importance of mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-45226044671960657902018-12-07T07:17:00.001-08:002018-12-09T07:16:30.479-08:00Purpose in Pain<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">I listen to Eric Metaxas on YouTube/Socrates in the City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s brilliant, witty, half Greek and half German. ...delightful combination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SO..what provocative statement has he made lately that gives me pause to ponder? "WE DIE DIFFERENTLY WHEN WE KNOW WE AREN'T GOING TO DIE.". </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">O.K., how am I "dying differently" from people who don't know Christ? Well, for one thing, by now I have learned that my Father always ha<i>s purpose in pain.</i> (Oh, and BTW you're all going to die. ...in His time.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Currently I am being tempted by the devil to get even with someone who has shredded my soul ...including my motives.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"> The tears have flowed and flowed and flowed. It's been an awful month, emotionally. Rational thinking comes and goes. ...comes and goes. We know that thinking and feeling are not the same part of our souls. Like all the pilgrims before us, we trudge over mountains and through valleys of feelings before we arrive at right thinking, ...understanding that God is bringing us to holiness. That path is strewn with pain. It is "The Road Less Traveled". (Scott Peck wrote that book many years ago.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Doesn’t our Lord instruct us to “<i>encourage </i>one another and all the more, as you see The Day approaching?” Some Christians seem to think giving words of affirmation will make a fellow Christian proud. How very odd, when He tells us clearly to do exactly that. Our Lord is not talking "flattery" here, but is talking about words that warm and encourage the heart.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> If words are not your "love languag</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">e" G</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">od will help you form them. It will take quite a few to block out the ones that crush souls. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We are the beloved children of the God of the Universe. Cherished children. Children that He deemed worth every drop of His blood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Now, darlings, think on these things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-51438230897380972112018-11-30T08:00:00.003-08:002018-12-02T01:13:01.813-08:00REMAINING PARTS <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Thanksgiving was good. ...with family. ...in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Penryn. ...near Sacramento.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Seven decades ago when I learned and applied this verse God got a much better return on His investment: </span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">“I beseech you, therefore, brethren , by the mercies of God, that you </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">present your bodies<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> a living sacrifice , holy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>acceptable <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>unto God, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which is your reasonable service”. </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Romans 12:1</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Now, about that body:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In fourteen days it will be ninety years old. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Yikes! ...but </span>I have a few remaining working parts. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Teeth?<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>My dentist says that if I live to be a hundred I won’t need dentures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Mind?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every now and then, it focuses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Hearing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Selective. ...but then, it always was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Speech? ...talk too much. Plan to cut by 50 % before reaching 91. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Eyesight? </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Macular </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Degeneration. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“The wheels on the bus go ‘round and ‘round.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">...not totally unpleasant.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Actually, rather colorful little circles. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Long term memory?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Short term memory?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too short.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Ambulatory?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Slow, leaning on a snazzy gold-colored cane. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Goals?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1. Stay in my home ‘til trumpet sounds or He comes to accompany me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"> Home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2. Better communication with my family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>3. Continuing communication with my friends around the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Less, with idiots. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">That’s pretty much it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-88874029001477970602018-11-19T17:07:00.002-08:002018-11-21T07:09:58.802-08:00Cat Scan<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dear ones:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I mentioned in this last blog that Dee and I would
be seeing the Thorasic doctor today for the report on the latest cat scan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here ‘tis:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The aortic aneurism has not grown since July.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It measures 6.1 cm x 5.9 cm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doctor’s words:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> "</span>That’s big. It may or may not grow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may or may not be what takes your
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it ruptures you will be in terrible
pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call 911 immediately. There is no
instrument, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nor “stent” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that can help with this particular aneurism,
because it is an “ascending aneurism”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(Coming OUT of your heart, and not going in.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surgery is an option, but at your age, not a
good one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no point in having further
cat scans, but that is up to you." (As of now I won't.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know where
I will be and with Whom, for eternity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A</span>s with you, the time of our departure is up to Him. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">It’s kind of
like thinking about the Rapture:</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Plan
as if the Lord were never coming.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Live
as if he were coming today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">These scriptures have been impressed upon me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Psalm 27:13,14:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I know
that I will see the Lord’s goodness in this present life. Trust in the Lord;
have faith, do not despair. Trust in the Lord.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">Lord, may these loved ones experience your grace, mercy and love, especially, this season. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-16782886737784664972018-11-15T07:26:00.000-08:002018-11-17T08:55:20.541-08:00Whack!<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> As Associate pastor to Ray Stedman, right out of seminary,
the five men who elded were business men who commuted by train every morning to
San Francisco.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Ted and Ray boarded with them, they laid out their Bibles to study, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">then</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">prayed for the men in their market places with whom they
would share Christ that day.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Often, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> there were fresh reports of God’s moving upon the hearts of
business people in the market places of San Francisco, California. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">After three years, we moved to Bakersfield, 'way south, to pastor a small church that had been pioneered by a precious, humble lady. There were a handful of adults and lots of children. We inherited a mortgage and an elder board. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">To say we experienced a climate and every other kind of change does not quite tell you what I am remembering. I was pregnant with our third child, sick as a dog for months and it was HOT! Eventually our beautiful little Deanna was born. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> A few weeks later, at 6 A.M. in the morning our doorbell rang. There stood the wife of the chairman of our elder board. ... sobbing. I gathered her in my arms as she blurted out her story. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“He's been leaving the
house early. This morning I followed him.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He stopped at Goldie's house! They're having an AFFAIR!" (Wouldn't you know her name would be "Goldie"?) E. moved into our Baby Dee's bedroom and there she lived while we prayed and found for her the perfect assignment for the rest of her life. She joined the office staff of Overseas Crusades Mission in Palo Alto, California where her international family became her joy. Did she ever recover from her broken heart? That's a really tough one to get over. Is her husband in Heaven? Is Goldie? I don't know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">There would be several more elder disappointments. Boy howdy, WOULD there? ...BUT, people were coming to our little church as new believers shared the Gospel in their neighborhoods, on their jobs and in their schools. The Jesus Movement was on its way. Ted trained some of the men for eldership. Fruitvale Community Church on Rosedale Highway became the Happenin' Place. Within a few years we sent out thirty or so new Christians into foreign missions. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> We remained in that pastorate for fifteen years, then for financial reasons moved to a pastorate in Houston, Texas. The "Saga of Elder Boards" will continue in future blogs. We had much to learn about the Sovereignty of God. At nearly 90 years old, I am still learning. Writing this blog is helping me connect some dots.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I will tell you this: The pastorate is hard enough, without having to do your job, hindered by p</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">ower-hungry, bull-headed, adulterous, stingy, self-serving men. They can break your heart and make you want to bail out of ministry all together. ...but we didn't. I still haven't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Suggestion: Read my dear friend Mike Loehrer's "Egoless Elders" and be encouraged and blessed. Westbow Press</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">When my Ted would fall into bed, exhausted from an elder board meeting, I asked no questions. I was flummoxed that he could go right to sleep. Finally, he told me how he did it. "I image the face of the most frustrating elder on a golf ball, then WHACK it into KINGDOM COME!'' Some of you who read this blog had no idea that mild-mannered, gentle Ted Stone would do such a thing. When you get to Heaven, please don't tell him I told you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">...and what about the once-little church in Bakersfield, California? It covers a city block and from it a half-dozen other churches have emerged. River Lakes Community Church continues to support people who train others to take the Gospel into the market places of the world. Our dear long-in-Heaven Ray Stedman told this to Ted and me: "As I travel the world, encouraging young pastors I tell them about Ted and Jo Stone who went to a church where I thought nothing would happen, and IT DID!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now, darlings, go and make disciples.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Stay out of the chicken coop and fly with the
eagles. On Monday my daughter Dee will take me to learn of the results of last week's cat scan. I will let you know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-77277081428257481132018-11-08T08:35:00.002-08:002018-11-11T17:51:47.970-08:00Waiting<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Old age is
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our bodies become weaker by the
day. We are tired. …so very tired of the battle with the world, the flesh and
the devil. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>during our life on this earth we have failed
to fully believe and embrace the fact that the Blood of Christ has cleansed us
from all guilt, shame and blame, and there is one sliver of dependency for our
worth upon the way others treat us, that’s the “sliver” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>satan will wiggle through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I came from a critical family. Words of encouragement were never said. I am not speaking of :"flattery". Result: When I came to Christ the first scripture I memorized was Proverbs 16:7: <i>When a man's ways please the Lord He makes even his enemies to be at peace with Him. </i> You won't be surprised to read that my struggle all my life has been about people pleasing. Being the wife of a pastor was especially hard for me. One of the great joys of my life is encouraging all of you who labor in God's vineyards in this nation and around the globe. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t know
what the motives are in someone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wouldn’t bet the rent on whether I even know my own all the time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take refuge in I Corinthians 5:1-5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I read it through streaming tears. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God says He is saving those tears in
bottles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we are with Him, I believe
we will cry them privately, with just Him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Won’t that be GLORIOUS? Over and over, in
scripture we are reassured of how wonderful “glory” will be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We used to sing a hymn about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“ Oh, that will be glory for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glory for me. Glory for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When by His grace I shall look on His face.
That will be glory;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>be glory for me.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is nothing to compare that “glory” with
on this earth; therefore God doesn’t even try. He simply tells us again and
again, that despite the agonies we endure here,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>in Heaven there will be absolutely NONE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ol’ black Ethel Waters used to say:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“God don’ waste no agony.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
dear saint has been in Heaven for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now she knows for sure that what she said is true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Friday,
November 9th I have a cat scan. If the darned aortic aneurism had burst I would
be dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it is leaking, something
besides surgery may be available. If
we have never mastered “waiting" before, we will have to get better at it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I have become confused by having so many doctors and tests. My own doctor of many years retired and it has been frustrating to find a new one that will explain what is going on. Lots of you who read this blog are aged. You will understand everything I am writing. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I am still here to pray and listen if you want to call me. Email me first and I will give you my phone number. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Much love for you, my fellow Pilgrims. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Jo</span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-28462207922884147692018-11-01T07:06:00.001-07:002018-11-04T06:34:39.205-08:00NakedMany of my generation would just as soon skip holiday gatherings. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">We feel three ways about still being here. We don't know where we "fit" anymore. ...or<i> if </i>we "fit". ...or if we even <i>want </i>to "fit".</span><br />
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...and so it seems that I will be here for another holiday time. Maybe I will see some of my beloved grandchildren. Did I know how much my grandma loved <i>me? </i> Of <i>course </i>not. I realized many years later that it was probably her prayers that brought me to Christ. ...five years after she left for Heaven.<br />
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What do we <i>really</i> know about what God is doing at the time He is doing it? The young think they know so much. Paul was cured of that. To the Corinthians he said: "<i>For I determined not to know anything among you save Jesus Christ and Him crucified." </i></div>
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I pretty much listen to pastor /teachers who have been
in Heaven for awhile. …the ones who lived on the cusp of the “new morality”
before it struck full force. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I picture some current pastors in a rowboat, paddling furiously as they see a tsunami poised and ready to roll at the crest of the hill. From
somewhere, I hear a worship team, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>singing and beating the drums louder and louder, trying to drown out the gasps of the Christians who are looking toward the horizon. Somewhere a TV blares with a preacher yelling: "The Rapture is coming! Send money! Buy my book! I am the only one who has a fresh word from Gawd! Oh, and send money!"<br />
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While the rant gets louder, I withdraw into my
quiet place and hum an old Danny Kaye ditty::<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <i>
</i></span><i>“Look at the king, look at the king; look at the king, the king, the king. The king is in the altogether, the altogether, the altogether. The king is as naked as the day that he was born. " </i>…and
indeed, all <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>human kings are as naked as
jay birds. … as are we all. …UNLESS we are<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
clothed with the righteousness of Christ. </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Amazing grace. I will never fully understand it until I see Him face to face. </span><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">"For He hath made Him to be </i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him." </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">II Corinthians 5:21. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.....and a repeat from last week's blog: <i>"To whom God would make known what is the riches of the </i>glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." Colossians 1:27. . </span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">...yet another: <i> "For by grace are you saved by faith, and that not of yourselves; It is a gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast."</i> Ephesians 2:8,9.</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></span>Oh, do vote. ...while we still can. <br />
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Love, Jo<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-31934352253258648072018-10-25T16:12:00.001-07:002018-10-26T07:55:36.301-07:00Christ in you<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My Ted pastored three churches, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we were on the staffs of six other ministries and were
part of three sending foreign mission organizations. One of the three church sent out lots of missionaries to foreign fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of those are in their early and
late 60’s, still bearing fruit that remains. Lots and lots of it. Today I am tracking one to
Africa and two to Indonesia. I can visualize<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the milling <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>crowds in the airports as these faithful warriors are deplaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>...exhausted beyond words, fighting their way through customs, heading
for baggage claim, praying that their
belongings made it across the pond. The adjustments from
having been back here in America for a short time are horrific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jet lag takes its toll on the
human soul. Sleep patterns are broken and must be reset. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> T</span>here is no describing the
emotions of leaving loved ones behind, and pressing forward in a foreign
land.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my dear male friends<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>always closes his communications with “Pressing
on…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do they do it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have
</i>to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They simply <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have</i> to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">called saints.</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So are we. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…every one of us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This little blog keeps me connected with all of our former ministries. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remain on the board of Round Top Retreat in
Texas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thousands of people come to that
place of learning and refreshment every year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nick
and Euphanel declare that Ted and I had
much to do with the launching of that reproductive ministry <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we did, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we didn’t<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>know it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, there are some who
go there who will never lead one person to Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> They will go back to their homes and wait for the next retreat. </span>Many more are in the battle for souls in
their market places and communities. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Round
Top they catch their breath and re-enter the fray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Do not for a moment believe that God is through gathering in
the Gentiles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I believe the Rapture
is the next event on His time clock, but I do not “stand looking up”, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>waiting for the trumpet to sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I live in a gorgeous
place. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">No one moves to Bear Valley Springs that does not have a love of nature.
…but “nature” won’t save them.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><i style="font-size: 12pt;">Faith cometh by hearing and hearing by the
Word of God</i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">How can they hear
unless someone </span><i style="font-size: 12pt;">tells </i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I have been, once more, delving into the Book of Romans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, my goodness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Romans 1 is grabbing me again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody has an excuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God has revealed Himself in nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every human has a choice as to whether to
find out Who did it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I know
that I am “chosen”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>have known that since I came to Christ. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no way a farm girl from east Kansas
could hear the Gospel unless God tracked me down. …which He did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know who else He is tracking down
here where I live. He will reveal to me all I need to know. …if I will just listen carefully
to what people are saying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…and not
saying. …and earn the right to be heard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every heart with
Christ is a missionary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every heart
without Christ is a mission field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…so what’s
His plan of evangelism?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re IT!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There is no Plan B. </span>“For it is Christ IN you, the HOPE OF GLORY.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span>Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-9197764333215730702018-10-19T08:18:00.000-07:002018-10-20T08:48:28.756-07:00Clinging<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The fall leaves are clinging to my giant oaks. …not
wanting to turn loose, fall to the ground and be scooped into black sacks and
dumped into the garbage bins Down Below. I too, am clinging to my Mighty Oak. …my
God Who placed a passion for the lost in my soul before the foundation of the
world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Last Saturday my church sent students from a nearby
Christian college <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">t</span>o do some manual work
around my home and property.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked them through the history of this hallowed place. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told them that II Timothy 2:2 has been one of my life verses. One of the fellows immediately spoke up: “That’s mine too.” …and
a new relationship with a young disciple began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He is a 25-year-old Marine vet from a family of non-believers, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has immersed his mind in scripture through the
Navigators, a scripture memory disciplehip mission that was started by a Navy
man on a ship in the South Pacific during World War II. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Ted immersed himself in scripture through
that same powerful discipleship method many years ago. The scriptures grabbed
his heart, he turned from his intended life work, listened to the Spirit of God
and during his entire life, never veered to the left or to the right, but stayed
focused on teaching scripture to those who were reliable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yesterday some “reliable” women of the next two generations met in my living
room to begin a study of Isaiah. Oh, my goodness!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What an adventure this is going to be!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The women He sends are all aware of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>reality. All stay current with daily news;
all flee to scripture for guidance in navigating through these perilous times. All are focused on discipleship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today I will hear from my dearest friends who are
scattered from Africa to Indonesia and assigned points in between. Some are in their 60’s and 70's when many people retire. Not my friends. …and
not me either. I spent one morning this week with a new Christian man in his 60’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thrill never diminishes while watching a
scripture like II Corinthians 5:21 take root.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My granddaughter #2 is almost a brain surgeon. Currently finishing her training in Temple University School of Medicine in Philadelphia , very soon she will be assigned to her place of
residency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are fervently praying that
she will be back in California. L.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>has daily helped me figure out the
right medication my new doctor has prescribed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>…a need provided. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Our beloved daughter skillfully handles financial matters. She is a phone call away at all times for all other matters relating to this last chapter of my life. </span>Another need: My
94-year old neighbor insists on doing some grocery shopping for me since I don’t
feel safe about driving the mountain roads into town anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I continue to drive in Bear Valley …carefully. My<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>neighbors around the curve have a key
to my house in case I push the little black button and the paramedics come
racing in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Others are teaming up to keep me in my home. Others fetch me for church and Bible study on Tuesday night. Others of you, far and wide support me financially, emotionally and spiritually. Daily. I am so grateful to all of you. </span>My Father is meeting all of
my needs. …just as He promised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bob, the bobcat is sitting on his brisket below my
deck, eyeballing a gopher hole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
felines know he is there; they are nervous; they hover close; they cling. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One is sitting by my computer as I write. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s a beautiful fall day here. I will rejoice in
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in
Jesus, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-9512745465454288082018-10-11T13:41:00.000-07:002018-10-12T06:06:44.946-07:00Sports Dud<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Jo, why do you tell us old stories? I'll tell you why: New stories are driving me crazy. Telling my old stories helps me think on God's faithfulness throughout my long life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was not a square inch of asphalt on
our farm. There was just DIRT. One
hundred sixty acres of it! I married a town boy who played every ball/ court sport known to man. So did his kids. His (and my) oldest one also chose NCAA wrestling and worked his way up to second and third in the nation in his weight class. I spent a half century of my life cooking to build muscles on four athletes while cheering them on to victory from the sidelines. <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I, the mom/grandmother am a sports dud. I don't play games or watch people on TV who do. In gatherings you can find me in a corner, having a conversation about something or Someone I deem worth talking about. If there is a piano and somebody wants me to play it, <i> that's</i> my indoor/outdoor sport. I </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">am cozying up to the idea of throwing </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">some living room singing parties now that fall and winter are setting in. I may not remember what I ate for dinner last night but I can remember and play any tune I ever heard. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> ...from memory. ...by ear. ...with a beat! If you hum a tune, more than likely I can pick it up and, for a few moments, the cares of this present world will fade away. Do you want to come? Bring cookies. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> I continue to minister under Family Life Resources, the non-profit organization that Ted launched in 1983 while still in Houston. I am supported by people to whom we have ministered. ...no churches or organizations. ...just individuals. ...all of whom are taking the Gospel to others. I have a Board of eight people. ...four couples. ...all in the battle for souls. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Here's the scripture from one: Sally is her name: </span><i style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I do not count my life of any value, nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry I received from the Lord Jesus to testify to the Gospel of the grace of God. </i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Acts 20:24.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have no idea why I am thinking about Garrison Keillor's radio show </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">"Prairie Home Companion" that I used to listen to on Saturday night. His sign off words about the people in his fictional town of "Lake Woebegone" went like this: </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> "Well, that's the news from Lake Woebegone where the women are strong, the men are good lookin' and all the children are above average." So there ya' go...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Love, Jo</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-64174101933704083502018-10-04T16:42:00.000-07:002018-10-06T06:54:08.472-07:00Changes<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The morning after we arrived in Bear Valley Springs in
1984 we awoke to a foot of snow. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Our sweet
realtor had arranged for us to stay in a double-wide ‘way on top of the
mountain. …heated by electricity. … which quit. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We couldn’t cook. It was cold. Ted’s Gold Wing
Honda was parked by the front door. … gleaming and beckoning. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We hopped on and went flyin’ down the mountain
for breakfast at a little country café in Keene </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">One more time, I was hanging on for dear life
behind Ted Stone, on a motorcycle, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">as we
raced into a new ministry in a new community. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Most of Bear Valley Springs residents were retired. …not
true anymore. A third of a century later the little church we came to build is
bursting with young families. Kevin, the pastor calls all the kids up to the
platform every Sunday morning for the “Surprise Box”. Yesterday it was Family
Sunday so the kids stayed in Big Church. I like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really
</i>like that. …but not every Sunday. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…because
Kevin is teaching through “Ecclesiastes”. …a very <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">serious </i>Book. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, it is
not possible to read Ecclesiastes and smile at the same time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A long time ago </span>I taught through That Book in a big ol’ church
in the ritzy part of Houston. The women did not have Bibles; I suggested that
they buy one. …which they did. I do not know exactly how, or I would market the formula, but most of the women came to know Jesus, left that church, went down
the road and joined The Baptists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
haven’t taught That Book since.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My son Jeff changed his major from “Engineering” to
“Psychology” when he read That Book. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Since nothing lasts except God, His Word and
people, I guess I had better invest in Those Three.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like his dad, our son has spent his life
pouring the Word of God into people. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am a blessed mamma. …and grandma. Maybe I will tell you more about my family in these blogs. Maybe. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Jo" datetime="2018-10-02T13:12">God never changes. Hang onto that, because EVERYTHING ELSE DOES! </ins></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Jo" datetime="2018-10-02T13:12"><br /></ins></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Jo" datetime="2018-10-02T13:12"><o:p></o:p></ins></span></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-5345585074212601312018-09-27T17:07:00.001-07:002018-09-28T14:58:13.057-07:00Three D''s<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">If you are still reading this blog, may you receive
rewards for your love, patience and forbearance in putting up with an elderly
woman’s stories, thoughts, ideas, concepts and conclusions. …some of which may
not be worth a plugged nickel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…whatever
a “plugged nickel” is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Today I will meet with a few women in the Book of
Genesis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What can a few women do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What women have always done: learn; share, pray,
and<i> give birth.</i> It doesn’t do a whole lot of good to cram in any more Bible
knowledge if there are no new babies to nurture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, does it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Ya’ know, there’s hardly a family that isn’t plagued
with one, two or three of the Big D’s:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>divorce, death or divisions. Prayer meetings can be disheartening if we pray only for the sick Christians and forget about the little lost lambs that have yet to be born. My Ted used to make some people very uncomfortable when he asked them: "How many non-Christian friends do you have now?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">That's about it for today. Last week’s blog
was too long. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have repented. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<i>"...and the life I live in the body I live by faith in the Son of God Who loved me and gave Himself for me".</i></div>
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Love, Jo</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-30896589598202279702018-09-20T19:01:00.002-07:002018-09-22T09:16:57.266-07:00Travels<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Nothing was going right. The Mulligan Room head waitress had not been informed that I was coming to entertain singers and diners. H</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">ungry people were arriving. The Women’s Golf Association had left the patio tables and chairs in disarray. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The meat bees had been informed that we were coming. Anticipating this, I was armed with fly swatters and a can of RAID. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">A few arriving people muttered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">None of my fellow musicians could join me. They were scattered all the way to Spain. I flipped the <i>on </i>switch to my microphone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dead. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My keyboard came alive. Hoorray! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sun was glaring straight into my face. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A resourceful woman found a piece of cardboard and tried to block it out. Didn't work. Five Bakersfield friends ambled in from Down Below. Any thought of cancelling the show evaporated. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I invited the growing group to turn to # 4 in my Singalong book. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">O</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">l’ </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Bill Bailey </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">may have left his weeping wife but he’s always good for launching a toe-tapping Singalong. …then “Sweet Georgia Brown” and "Ain't She Sweet?" and a floundering party just might be on its wobbly way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">I’m thinking: These people don’t know each other. This is not my first rodeo. What have I done before to pull together an unconnected crowd? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>O.K., I’ll invite them to tell about their summer travels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> "</span>W., tell us about your trip to Kentucky.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had had a terrible traveling experience which put her in the hospital for a hernia operation. We need to change the mood here, so I called on Lauraine, my writer/friend who always brings smiles to every gathering. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She told us about her upcoming motor home trip to Minot, North Dakota where she and Wayne will rendezvous with Norwegians that gather from around the world. Picture THAT! Hundreds of Scandinavians. Remembering. Connecting. REconnecting. Laughing. Discussing. Probably arguing. Eating. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope they dance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">G. and R. told about the missionaries they will soon visit in Australia. Ahh, thought I. The word "missionary" might trigger a conversation about the Lord. I called on D., a dear Bakersfield friend, and asked her to say a few words. Her “few words” took us right where I hoped they would. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Some fellow, whose name I do not know stood up and said: “O.K., Jo, you’ve got us talking. What’s your story?” I thought they’d never ask. …so I told them the short version of my long story. …which is all about traveling with Christ.</span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We sang some more. The night grew chilly. The local folk filtered out toward their mountain homes; the flat landers lingered to sing some more before traveling back down the mountain.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> D</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">espite the fact that almost everything that could go wrong, did, everybody had a good time on a Fallish night, outside, at the Mulligan Room, in Bear Valley Springs, California.</span><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Tell me the story of Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Write on my heart, every word.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Tell me the story most precious<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Sweetest that ever was heard.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-66142922892097133772018-09-13T18:56:00.000-07:002018-09-13T19:06:02.605-07:00Obsolete <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 4.5pt;">
Before we figure out how to use a new device, it's obsolete. I am just figuring out life. So are a great many in their 80's and 90's. I will tell you about a couple of women who are not "obsolete". Both are in retirement homes. One, in Houston; the other in Fresno. They don't know each other. They will. Before long. But not quite yet.<br />
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The one in Houston is not computer savvy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She can't read my blog, but manages to stay reasonably "with it" anyway. She is Swedish. Despite that, she has a sense of humor. </span>Her penmanship is perfect. Mine looks like
chicken scratches, so I call or type
letters to her. She always responds, reporting first of all on the weather. What I have never told her is that we left Houston<i> because </i>of the weather. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there's R. In Fresno. She's 93. ...or maybe 94. Doesn't matter. She is still a barrel of fun. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> R. and F. </span> were the couple Ted and I chose
to counsel our daughter and her man before their marriage. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>F.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was a new Christian. He didn't know much scripture but he sure knew how to live life with integrity. R. and I have lots of laughs.<br />
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I hang pretty much with people who can laugh at their own humanness. Take my current pastor. He does that. ...chuckles at himself. I like that. On Sunday mornings I sit practically <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">under </span>his nose. …for two reasons:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t hear so well anymore. The other? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People tend to download their agonies on me. …so I wear my pretend horse blinders …the kind my dad put on his four-
horse team to keep them focused on the job. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My “job” is to stay as sane as possible in an
insane world.</div>
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The aortic aneurysm in my chest hasn’t blown up yet. The
hiatal hernia is just hanging out in my rib cage. All of you readers have
something “hanging out”. …so let’s just cut our losses and enjoy what we’ve got
left. <o:p></o:p><br />
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Tonight: another Singalong outside. It will be chilly. Oh, well. </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do all things without
murmurings and disputings, that you may be blameless and harmless in the midst
of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom you shine as lights in the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…holding forth the Word of God.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Philippians 2 something or other. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Love,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jo<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557717222255027760.post-65837590241192751442018-09-07T10:30:00.001-07:002018-09-08T07:53:32.663-07:00Soup Kettle<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At another time and in another place Ted and I were
on the staff of a ministry launched by guys who had just graduated from
seminary. Here’s how the format was set up: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A group of believers build relationships with
people with no belief in a Higher Poweer. All are invited to a discussion<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in homes, offices and schools about “Life and
God”. The discussion is to last only fifty-nine minutes. ...which it did<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
when the conversation was going somewhere, the time was up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…very unsettling to me, but not to my husband. He was far more at peace with "dangling ends" than I. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The leaders of this ministry were of the opinion
that the human soul contains only a MIND.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have wondered how many of their marriages ended up in divorce. …or murder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One more of their conclusions went like this:
All around the globe, people have only twelve most asked-questions about “Life
and God”. I have double that number of questions every morning before
breakfast. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">God’s pilgrim-children, down through the ages have
been allowed to ask God all kinds of questions about Himself and about Life. All
have expressed the gamut of their emotions. Not very often has He struck them
dead. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the Soup Kettle of my mind this morning simmered
a mixture of feelings and thoughts. Then a wisp of a scripture intruded:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Take
every thought captive.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Absurd!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Utterly absurd!”. …then came another bit of scripture: "<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Whatsoever is worthy of praise, THINK on
these things”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Now, that’s the tricky part: Deciding to praise Him in the midst of awful situations, and then actually <i>doing </i>it. I think that must be the meaning of offering to our Lord <i>"the sacrifice of praise."</i> What do you think? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Love, Jo</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com