We Need God in America Again

To turn on the news and hear of the Virginia Tech shootings was very disturbing. Sadly, what was equally disturbing to me was that I actually could say, "Not again." NOT. AGAIN. That it has happened and continues to happen both saddens and sickens me.

If you've read my profile, you already know I make no apology for the fact that I am a follower of Jesus Christ. And it is from that position that I boldy say it is my own personal belief that removing God from the foundations of this country is the reason that evil such as this has taken root.

I was reminded of an old song from the early 90's by Christian artist Carmen. The message is powerful, even if you do not agree with every statement he makes in the song (though I would encourage you to consider that God does not change and we cannot change Him to be the "god" we feel comfortable with; He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.)

Also, Sue posted some insightful comments over at Praise and Coffee. How great is our God indeed. Always a blessing to read your blog, Sue.

James 1:17
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

Them's good eatin'.

I'm pretty sure I served horse meat for dinner this evening. I mean, maybe there was some mix up with the nearest glue factory. I'm just thinking...
Seriously, I opened a package of "ground beef" and began to fry it when I noticed that it smelled like the county fair. Not rancid, no. Not a spoiled smell (I would have tossed that.) No, this was USDA "fair grade" barn smellin' meat I detected.

There was just no way I could serve it like that. So I did what any budget conscious practical mother would do. I topped it with french fries, spaghetti sauce and cheese and baked the "barn smell" out of it, then served it up with a smile. My kids had two helpings (go figure). Here and I thought our former neighbor kid breaking and entering to steal moose meat out of an old lady's basement was bad (Hmmmm! That kid might have hit me cockeyed to get his hands on my "fair grade" fixins.) No stomach cramps or trots to report (pun intended). Stay tuned.

A fish tale that begs to be told.

It may surprise you that, like Flylady, I know how to fly fish. It's a family tradition that goes back several generations. My Dad and my Pap used to go together when my Dad was a young boy. And as far as I know, they never missed a year. By "year", I mean the annual OPENING DAY. It's a big hula-balloo in Pennsylvania where my parents grew up. Opening day of Pennsylvania's trout season is like opening day of major league baseball. And I'm only half joking there.

Sadly, my Pap (my Dad's dad) died of a heart attack when he was only 64 years old. But the tradition lived on. It had to. All of my siblings joined Dad on the creek at one time or another, myself included. Our fishing day began at 3am, where we started our ascent into the mountains. By 5:00am, we found ourselves ordering eggs, bacon, toast and various drinks at The Lone Star , a mom-n-pop joint up in the mountains that is not routinely open at such absurd hours, except for opening day (I told you it's a big "to do.")

By 7am, we found ourselves "securing a spot" on the creek. Now the creek stretched for miles in both directions, but everyone knew to gather at 2 or 3 particular deep water holes because "anyone who was anyone" actually drove up a day early to find out where exactly the creek had been stocked. Yes, they watched the stocking in real time. Bottom line? The holes got stocked. And if you know anything about fly fishing, then you know 15 folks in hip boots and various other fishing garb don't necessarily fare well together in a creek hole built for 3 or 4. As I said, "secure a spot."

As we stood on the creek (in our spots...some of us freezing) the requisite joking and ribbing of others began.
"What time does your watch say, Tom?"
"Oh, 'bout 8 o'clock, Norm."
"And what time does the game warden's watch say, Tom?"
"Says it's about time for you to cast your line in so we can eliminate one more fisherman."
Yes, time was poked fun at the most, as you could not "legally" cast your line until 8am on the mark. And when 8am came? All chaos ensued. Some rods jammed. Other lines ended up in the trees. Some met with success right away (my Dad always being among them, awesome fisherman that he is). And Norm? Well, let's just say his line was usually cast over 3 or 4 others and you can imagine how well that was received.

Fast foreward to two years ago. My Dad suffered a major heart attack (age 64 as his Dad had), requiring quintuple bypass surgery. Thankfully, he survived. That was the only year I know of where he missed the annual trip for opening season. Until this year. This year was nearly a miss as well. Therein lies the point of my fish tale. Read on.

Usually, one or more of my siblings still make the trip with him. Carl used to go as well, but the last several years have brought job relocations into our life and he has not been able to make it. And sadly, it looked as if no one could go with Dad this year. Sure, Dad could go alone and loves it enough to want to do so. But it wouldn't be the same. And I know we would all feel better too if someone were with him just in case he needed medical help (the creek is pretty isolated). My dear mom was poised and ready to go. The only problem with that plan is that she cannot tolerate long exposure to the cold (they fish for 6 or 7 hours) and the weather prediction calls for rain and snow with a high in the mid 30's. Not a good year for mom to go along.

Yesterday I was speaking with Dad on the phone and he mentioned he might not go. I felt sad, as I knew how much he looks forward to Opening Day. What I didn't know was that God was going to use an online friend, Cyndy, to prompt me to propose a suggestion for what it was worth. Cyndy asked for prayer yesterday because this was the first year her dear father-in-law would not be fishing on "opening day." He passed away and Cyndy's husband was facing this first year on the creek without him, thus the request for prayer. As I read her post, I thought, 'She's in PA.' A check of her profile proved me right. As I committed to praying for her and her husband (fully understanding how important opening day was between her husband and his father), my own Dad came to mind. And so did a plan.

I called Carl into the room and point blank said, "Do you want to fly to Cleveland tomorrow and go fishing with Dad?" He hesitated for but a second and only for my sake. I assured him that I would be fine alone with the kids (I "single parented" for 14 months while he lived and worked out of state due to that job relocation I mentioned). Carl has been off work for a month now due to hernia surgery. We've had plenty of time to enjoy together. And time is so very precious, as Cyndy reminded me. Thankfully, Carl works for an airline and can make travel plans at a moment's notice. A few flights were checked, a bag was packed, and at 9:20am this morning, he was on his way to Cleveland to once again make the annual trip for Opening Day of trout season with my Dad.

As the guys approach the mountains tomorrow, it will still be dark. Visible up on one of the hills is a gigantic lighted cross. It's actually located in the town of Jumonville and the site is a Christian conference and retreat center.
What a beautiful image in the dark of night.


I'm so excited for them to be going and to have some time to spend together. I remember how devastating it was to Carl when I had to call him in Chicago (where he was living and working) to tell him of my Dad's heart attack. Carl and my Dad worked together for 16 years at the same airline. They are father-in-law and son-in-law, yes. But in many ways they have a father-son relationship. And better still, they are great friends. I know they're going to have a good time complete with lots of laughs. I know they were meant to go and I thank Cyndy for her insightful prayer post that prompted me to make it happen. And I know (oh, don't I know )I'll hear a story or two about the one that got way.

Ecclesiastes 3:1
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven;

UPDATE: Okay, so they got a flat tire in PA. That's not the kind of memory making I'm talkin' about here. But hey, nothing says "male bonding" like grease and tools, right? Carl reports that it wasn't a completely manly experience, what with his hands smelling like baby bottom and all (they only had baby wipes in the car to clean up with afterwards. ROFLOL!)

Easter roadtrip recap (and a good laugh too).

I promise you're going to laugh. But first I'll get down to recapping our visit to Ohio for Easter. We left last Thursday on our 6 hour jaunt to the North Coast. Our families live west of Cleveland. No, Cleveland is not the mistake on the lake. We prefer to think of it as the Jewel on the Nile. Sort of. Actually, there are many fun things to do there in the summer; Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; great restaurants like Pier W; nightlife in The Flats, and even islands like Put-In-Bay (I spent a few summer weekends there with one of my highschool friends and we used to take our kids there for the day when we still lived in Ohio).

Where in thee blazes was I? Oh yeah, Easter visit. We had a wonderful time. We visited Brandon's social worker on Friday, then drove to Kimberly's house. Kimberly is my Reece's biological sister who was adopted by another family, the "L's". Reece and Kimberly are the splitting image of one another. I mean, I realize siblings often look alike. But in my family and in Carl's family, there isn't this "amazing" resemblance. Reece and Kimberly look amazingly alike. Between our two families, we had seven children, ages 7, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3 and 3 months. Phew! They had a great time playing together while the adults caught up on lives lived in two different states. We used to live thirty minutes from the L's, but now live more than 6 hours away. Sadly, this means Reece and Kimberly see each other much less so this time was really important for them. On a cool coincidental note though, we moved into a town that is of the same name as Kimberly's hometown in OH. What were the chances?

Saturday we took the kids to see Meet the Robinsons. It was a bit over their heads with a "Back To The Future" feel to it. It begins with a birthmother knocking on the door of an orphanage on a rainy night, then leaving her baby boy on the doorstep. I had to wonder what might have been going through my 7yo daughter's mind as she watched that scene (it made me quite sad, actually.) It was a scene of abandonment as I experienced it. Our children's birthmothers did not abandon them. There were also references to "real mom" (Um, I had something to say about real moms recently.) Okay, so I wasn't thrilled with the overall message sent about adoption in the film. And if I were Siskell and Ebert, it would get one phalange up (for the record, you have three phalanges on each finger).

Sunday was so awesome. We were thrilled to be able to worship on Resurrection Sunday at our former church. It's a large non-denominational church with a contemporary worship style. I really do enjoy our new church home, but we had to readjust to a very conservative worship style (hymns only), where we used to enjoy songs by Darlene Zschech and Hillsong, Casting Crowns, Don Moen, and more. Now, I have enjoyed learning hymns I've never known before, but I do miss "singing a new song unto the Lord" as well. How nice it was to hear our former pastor preach and to meet up with old friends like Veronica, whom I worked with for many years at USAirways.

And then there was Sunday dinner at my parents' house. We had 3 tables and 19 people present. Ham, colored eggs, au gratin potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, kielbasas, pretzel jello salad, horseradish sauce and more. We talked too much, ate too much and spent waaaay too few hours together before we had to bring the day to an end and head back to respective homes. How difficult and rare it is to bring so much family together anymore. I thanked God for blessing us all with health and time off to be together on Resurrection Sunday of all days. My glass truly is half full.

Monday found us making our way home again, slowly,...ever so s-l-o-w-l-y. We had to stop for gas,.....twice. For potty breaks,...I lost count. For feeding the baby,.....twice. For dinner. Just how does a family leave point A at 2 o'clock for a six hour drive and arrive home at 11:15pm? It's all a numbers game, folks. Pack six H's in a minivan and ease on down the road. Presto! A six hour drive becomes a nine hour drive. We're just crafty that way.

Okay, now that you've been home and back with me, I know you're thinking, "Not so funny, Toni." Hey, this aint no Comedy Central. No, but I did promise a laugh and a laugh I shall provide (unless of course you've already heard this elsewhere, in which case here's your Consolation Giggle).

As for the rest of you, turn up your speakers and get ready to laugh. Hard! Here it is, as heard on CHUM FM.

Watch the lamb

Ray Boltz delivers the message of Easter so profoundly. I reaaaally wanted to share it with you before we leave town. It will take about 10 seconds to begin playing after you hit the play button. I hope it speaks to your heart as Resurrection Sunday approaches.
Blessings,
~Toni~

Easter Blessings to you as we head out of town.

Well, tomorrow we are heading out of town for Easter. Man-o-day, I have a b'zillion things to do before then (packing is a good place to start for example). Carl will take the kids to church tonight while I work on things that need done before we go (though I need a bumper sticker that reads I'd rather be blogging.)

Thought I'd leave you with a glimpse of our past week before checking out until returning Monday night. This is a journal entry I made on Monday after driving nearly 3 hours to one of our very favorite family restaurants in the world; Joe Hubers.
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What a lovely, lovely, LOVELY day. We made our seasonal jaunt down to Joe Huber's. The Eastern Redbud was in bloom everywhere along the forest edges. They are a beautiful (pink) sight to see.


We also discovered a little creek with a waterfall just down the road from Hubers. It was so completely untouched by the outside world. I bet only the Hubers know it's there. The photo does not do it justice at all.


We would like to rent a cabin and stay for a few nights, maybe taking in one of the Christian dinner concerts often held at the restaurant. The Hubers truly are blessed to call Starlight, Indiana their home. I mean, even the name suggests God created a most beautiful spot to behold; Starlight! Ahhh.
(author's note: they likely own most of the land in Starlight, which sits high in the hills near the Indiana/Kentucky state line; it's pure countryside, quiet and largely untouched by the outside world other than the glimpse provided by the Huber family through their restaurant). I would live there in a heartbeat if circumstances allowed. I feel so at peace while there.


There was a ditsy Cardinal that kept flying at the window again and again while we waited for our food. The waitress said he's been doing it for over two weeks and Mr. Huber said he sees his reflection during mating season and thinks he found a "friend." LOL!

The kids had their usual complete blast playing after a delicious meal of "made from scratch" fried chiken, baked ham, dumpling noodles, broccoli salad, glasses of cold iced tea and more. They fed the ducks and carp and made a dog friend too. Starlight Indiana has got to be one of the prettiest places on God's earth. We LOVE it there.



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Blog friends, if you're ever near Louisville, KY., do consider the short drive up to Joe Hubers in Indiana. There are all kinds of activities for children; fishing pole rentals, apple launchers, grain slides, silo climbing, petting zoo, hay rides and more. You won't regret it.
http://www.joehubers.com/redbarn.html

Have a blessed Easter.
He is risen. He is risen indeed!

THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD GO I???

Okay folks, let's all pause and take in a visible reminder that God extends enough grace for the moment (even ones such as this).