No Supper Tonight!

 With empty tummies, we climbed the chipped, linoleum steps. At the top of the stairs, Mom gave our backsides a slight shove and stated, “Get into bed; there will be no supper tonight.”

 

I spotted the picture of my brother and me as we
passed the bookshelf in the hallway,
and I wondered how things had gone so wrong.

 

 

In our bedroom, I ventured to the window; the sun was shining behind our big red barn. I stretched to catch a glimpse of the damaged fences....and crawled into bed with my clothes on. I was sweaty and my hands were dirty. My jammies were downstairs in the bathroom....hanging on my special hook. I had never gone to bed in my clothes before. Should I take my socks off?

Brother stared at me from his bed.  It was summer, but his covers were pulled up to his chin. We had nothing to say to each other.  I tried closing my eyes.

Slowly, the room darkened as the sun did its evening thing, and there was a knock on the door. Dad came in with a tray: saltine crackers and two glasses of milk. We had never had milk in bed before. He helped us with our prayers, said nothing about the day’s events, patted us on the head, and left the room. I felt a little better.


 

What had we done?

Big brother, at five, decided to show me, his younger sister by thirteen months, how to drive the farm tractor. He pulled me up and showed me where to stand as he sat on the iron seat, stretched to shove in the clutch, and worked the throttle with his fingers.  Dad’s Oliver rumbled and came to life.

  As he released the clutch, the tractor catapulted across the farmyard. Chickens squawked, and the family dogs started barking.  My tiny fingers clutched the wheel well and the back of the tractor seat as we bounced along.  We hit a rut or two, and the monster took a different direction and headed straight for our massive barn.

Fences were flattened, and the barnyard cows kicked up their heels and fled to the corn fields as we blasted into the side of the barn and jolted to a stop—the tractor silenced.

My mother ran from the house screaming --apron strings flying. Dad scrambled from the tool shed.

In a frenzy, Mother scurried us to the house making unintelligible sounds.  I’m not sure what the hurry was. Although speechless, we both could walk and apparently were uninjured.

Interestingly enough, the most vivid memory was going to bed with no supper. It hadn’t happened before. It never happened again.

 

Mom took this picture weeks later.

Notice who is in the driver's seat!

 



Perceptions

 

 

          My empty tummy, my parent's unusual behavior, and feeling alone were my child-like perceptions.

          Looking back, my parents' perceptions were extremely different: fear of losing one or more children in a horrible accident.

          We view the world and situations differently as we age. Our perceptions change. Some of us mellow; some of us become more anxious. Does wisdom come with age?

          I'm relieved that as a child my memories were of an empty tummy and not the fear of death at age three.

          Life passes so quickly. I was reminded of this in church last Sunday. One of the pastor's sons had returned from over-seas. I remembered him as  fresh-faced little boy when they arrived as a family a couple of decades ago. Now, he is tall, whiskered, and visits with the other members of our church--adult to adult. Yesterday's couples with high-school aged children are now the revered members who stay seated throughout the service--the getting up and down being too difficult for their aging bodies.
          Someone said, "The only thing we can be sure of is change."
          Change is inevitable.
          But there is something that does not change and that is God's unconditional and unfailing love for each of us.
           Although we are directed by God to have a child-like faith, our perceptions of ourselves and our faith need to mature as we are the living image of God in His kingdom. We have responsibilities because of who we are.  Through study of his Word, loving your neighbor, God will reveal His love to us more each day.

This is a blessing.

 

 

May your perceptions

of the almighty God

and his love for you

bring you joy and peace.

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 






These Feet Were Made For Walking

My feet do not resemble my new grand daughter's at all. Her's are soft, pliable and pink. Mine are covered with blue rivulets, bumps and hollows, and are no longer pliable.

I can imagine the condition of Jesus' disciples' feet when he washed them: dusty, dirty, a hangnail or two, and thick, thick callouses. They surely took much abuse in the rudimentary sandals they wore over the rocks and dusty paths they traveled as they fulfilled their life's work: to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

When Jesus cared for their feet, there were no vibrating chairs, nail clippers, nail buffers, scrubbing brushes, or cuticle oils. He did it because he loved them, because it was an example of serving others....and perhaps it was a way of saying how precious these persons were to him.

My feet will never again be as soft and beautiful and pliable as our precious grand daughter's. But, she, too will soon stand and walk and run and play and live out her life. Her feet will reveal signs of her life as she grows up and discovers her world.

I'm thinking of Jesus' disciples and the choices they made to follow their Savior.
I'm thinking of Jesus' humility, love, and willingness to serve when he washed the feet of others.
I'm thinking of the walking I have yet to do before this life of mine on earth comes to a close.
I'm thinking of a new baby girl and everything that lies ahead of her.

Life Questions.....

DO NOT BE DECEIVED was published in May, 2016. What follows is a few discussion questions from the book. Whether you have read the novel or not, one could ask the very same questions of your own life....

 

1. Is it possible to bury something shameful so deep that it does not become reality until some other experience causes it to surface?

 2. Who are the people in your life who have played minor, and yet very significant, roles? How...

3. There is a character in this story who is "obscure." ... she seems to disappear when everyone else's role is complete by the end of the novel. Think of someone in your life who became "obscure." Would you like to locate them? ... What difference might it make?

 3. On the book cover, there is a small evergreen on the house roof. It is symbolic of something in the story. What object from your childhood might be symbolic of a memory that you want to carry forward?

 4. What does your name mean? ... and how could it be tied into your life story?

 5. The title, DO NOT BE DECEIVED, indicates that someone was deceived. Have you ever been deceived as in "had"? ... And, is it possible that we can deceive ourselves?

6. Cassandra, protagonist of DO NOT BE DECEIVED, never gave up seeking the meaning of her own circumstances and seeking the God she barely knew. If you are still seeking the God you barely know, how is this going? How could it go better?

 ****

 You may email at kathystauffer@hotmail.com for all discussion questions from the book, DO NOT BE DECEIVED.

Please check out my other books on barnes and noble and amazon.com sites:

WE SEE IN A MIRROR DIMLY, THE SECRET IS, ALL THE RIVERS RUN INTO THE SEA, THOU SHALT NOT, DO NOT BE DECEIVED

 

Einstein and Other Geniuses

No matter the area of expertise-- music, science, space--a genius is considered a mastermind of intellect in his or her specialty. Our grandson recently wrote a report on Albert Einstein and recited it by memory to his first grade classroom. Quite an accomplishment --a kid who loves science and math. When I was in first grade, I learned of Dick, Jane, and Spot....hmmm...

...If you check out the picture carefully, you can imagine what his mother went through to get him ready for this event at home that morning, what it must have been like driving him to school and, then, walking into the school.... Someone saved the day, when they said, "Hey Einstein! Good morning!"

Whether it’s Einstein, Prince, Bill Gates, Mother Teresa, Elon Musk, or you, we each have our unique gifts. One may not be a theoretical physicist, received a Nobel Prize, or wowed thousands with his music; however, we each have the capability of being among the most gifted persons on the planet when we are Christians. With the Holy Spirit in you, one has the power to overcome every single obstacle in his or her life. God’s impact on a life is beyond understanding.

...If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. 1 John 4:12

But whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected: hereby know we that we are in him. 1 John 2:5

Genius or not,

one doesn't have to be a mastermind

to understand the impact of love on a life.

Vulnerabilities ...

A concern as a writer is showing my vulnerabilities. However, a friend expressed that it is this that makes us beautiful. After this morning, I’m wondering.

Getting ready for a book signing at Waldorf College, I noted that my nails weren’t the best. And, my hair, after swimming in a chlorinated pool and, then, treating it with a “solution” yesterday looked good yesterday, but today it looks gummy. I applied baby powder to a brush,  and ran it through my hair. (I had read this could take the extra oil out of one’s hair.) Since I had not worn earrings for a while, both of my piercings­­­ in my right year were being stubborn, so I pushed both earrings in my left ear determined to pull one out and place it in the other ear later. Getting out my nail polish kit, I started on the nails. File, nail strengthener polish, a hint of color and, then, a white line for a French manicure. Yes, I could do this.

Needing to take care of errands before leaving for the book signing, I hurried to the car and hooked my hand into the handle none too carefully and smudged a whole hand full of nails. Ugh. Before going into the grocery store, I looked at my reflection in the rear-view mirror. Was that a powder line along my scalp? Whoops, two earrings in the right ear!

Sometimes, it seems that no matter how hard I try to get it right, look right, say it right—it turns out a mess, a mistake, or worse. The above is really minor, but I have said things in an attempt to make things better, and, instead, my words made it worse. I have done things with good and worthy intentions, and it turned out all wrong.

Thank goodness God is compassionate. I also believe he has a sense of humor. I removed the polish from both hands, washed my hair, and switched an earring to its right lobe. Some things we can fix; some things we can not.

Not only is our God compassionate, He is forgiving. Thank God.

Somethin's Fishy, Eating Crow, and Throwing Stones

I acquired the habit of sniffing from my mother. She smelled tomatoes to determine their ripeness, a laundry item to see if it really needed to be washed, a mattress pad, the “fruit room” in our basement….

After being in Minneapolis for a week's stay, I entered our garage and pushed the door open to our house. “Oh my goodness,” was my reaction. These perhaps weren’t my exact words... My husband had been home by himself for a week, so, you can imagine what I was thinking. I hinted to him that there was a weird smell in the house. He shrugged if off; his nose does not work like mine.

My sniffer went to work. I picked up his three pairs of shoes in the entry way and inhaled. Passable. The garbage needed to be emptied but did not stink. I found not a clue. A day passed and the smell worsened. Again, I went on a mission from room to room and determined the odor was most obvious in our utility room. His laundry?  No... The smell was worse than that. It had to be a dead mouse.  Where was that tiny dead beast? I poked around in corners and shelves and finally found the culprit.

Fish! On a shelf beside the freezer was a package of once-frozen fish, now thawed, and rotting. I had placed it there with the idea of tossing it…. Probably a week or two before when cleaning out the freezer. It was MY fault….

It seems that when I am ready to point a finger or find someone to blame, it occasionally comes back to me…  There’s a verse in scripture about throwing stones in John 7:8* and another verse about seeing the sawdust in your brother's eye and paying no attention to the "plank" in your own eye in Matthew 7:3*.

I learned as a mother early on that it did very little to lay blame or point fingers. Whether dealing with hurt feelings, banged-up knees, a squabble between siblings, it was best to go forward and determine how to make it better. Laying blame prevented progress. Finding ways to make my husband responsible for my rotting fish smell didn't make for a happy homecoming.

Next time, I'll do better.

John 7:8--When they kept questioning him he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her."

Mathew 7:3--Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?