Author: Quilter

I find life lessons and sometimes the humor and/or hope in everyday events.

Who Would Do This?

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© jb katke

Who do you know that would make three rounds of shopping through the grocery store? I did.

At the time, we were living north of Chicago and the meat cutters union decided to close the counter at 6pm. The solution was easy enough, do your shopping during the day. That wouldn’t work for us. We were a one car family for several years. My husband would have to rush home to collect me and our baby in order to get what we needed.

The first round I picked up meat, the second round consisted of baby food and essentials, the third time round was for the enjoyable miscellaneous items it would be nice to munch on. This was a time before cell phones that had a calculator. To stay within budget, I had a small clicker type device that kept track of my expenses

Do you know anyone who dislikes parties to put on a bash for the neighborhood children. I and my neighbors did. In the eighties there were many news articles of candy that had either a needle or a razor injected into it. For the safety’s sake, we eliminated that concern opting to throw a party, thus doing away with a trip to ER.

For the children to feel like they were not missing out going door to door, you can imagine how much goodies we had to provide for them. The upside of the situation; we were free to make baked goods and popcorn balls, knowing all would be safe for them.

Do you know anyone who swore up, down, and cross ways they would never live in a house that required you to pass it in order to arrive home? I did, only to make a liar of myself. Many homes are backed up to a main street. I must pass my home to get to the street that enters the neighborhood, then make an immediate turn onto my street where home sits. You will never convince me Jesus doesn’t have a sense of humor. Speaking of homes…

Among the few that have the privilege of having a new home built in accordance with many of the buyers specs; who on earth would pray that it wouldn’t be ideal? Right again, I did.

We all have our reasons, here are mine. As I read through the Good Book, I came to realize there is another life other than this one we know today. A life with no end. When I leave this world, I am hanging my hat on living with Jesus and his dad. It has everything we hoped for on planet earth, but never came to be.

To seal the deal for my forever home, I have decided to agree with Jesus and give honor and respect to his dad, the Creator of life itself. To do that, I have willingly made other things, the stuff that is a big deal here, of little importance. Nothing here can compare with the life we have available later.

God never disappoints. My home here is less than perfect. When I come across some little detail that I know is a job poorly done, I smile at my answered prayer.

Finally, who on earth would purchase a greeting card for themselves? You are noticing a pattern. I did. While I never set out to do so, as I perused cards for a couple upcoming birthdays; I come across this one. Is it perfect for me or what? It is perfect for a lot of writers I know.

Here is the deal. I have never desired to write, not a blog, nor the book I am in the process of. Whether we realize it or not, everyone has a message to get out. Yes, I know everyone seems to be writing a book these days. Others planned it, I did not. My message to you is, God is alive, working 24/7 and would love very much to be more involved in your life. Will you let him?

I can tell you he will take you places you have never been and what a ride it will be!

Don’t Forget

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Can you remember what took place twenty years ago?

We have wrapped up a week of remembering. The mantra of 9/11 was, “We will never forget.”

Atrocities have happened throughout the centuries. Generations have been impacted and stories documented. A high school teacher once told parents how difficult it is teaching history, “Events happen every day, adding to what has already occurred long ago. It’s too much to teach!”

A sad truth.

As a rule, I have trouble remembering what we had for dinner the night before. I may have gone to great pains in preparation, but our meals are never noteworthy enough to write about. It’s easier to do the opposite of remembering, and forget. As New Yorkers may say, “Fget about it!”

Another sad truth are the good things that happen and for whatever reason, the stories don’t get passed along. This is not a new or unique situation. Take a peek into the book of Exodus in the Good Book. It is a story like none other.

Jesus’ dad promised Abraham that a great nation would be founded through him; it was Israel. Only they were oppressed by another nation into slavery.  But God impressed upon a man, Moses, to lead the Israelites out to a promised land.  It took forty years!

Spoiler alert: Jesus’ dad made lots of promises that stand even today. In addition, he uses ordinary man to get his plan done.

You can’t make this stuff up; read it for yourself! Tragedy, disappointment, and miracles all took place in this one true story. Here is my point in mentioning it, people witnessed all these things happening around them.

They were warned, don’t forget what you experienced. Tell your children what you saw and how Jesus’ dad worked miracles into those difficult days. The kids are not going to realize the importance if you don’t let them know. It’s part of their history; they were too young to understand at the time.

I can’t help but think it is more important now than ever. There was a time when families all lived in the same community. Not so anymore.

No longer do grandparents have the opportunity to invest in the grandchildren, reinforcing what mom and dad strive to teach. There are times, whether baking cookies, or going fishing, whatever; they are teachable moments we can impress our young ones into becoming responsible adults.

This is close to my heart, because the little ones in our family are not close by. It’s not always children either. I recall teaching my brother how to sew on a button after his wife passed away.

People need people. People need Jesus and the miracles his dad can do to help make good things come from bad situations. 

Looking Reality in the Eye

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 © jb katke

Good heavens girl, what is your problem? There are thousands, maybe millions of people, that would give anything to be in your situation.

I had just left my eye doctors office. The report indicated there was very little change in my vision. Prior to my appointment I had geared myself up for getting new lenses. I was ready.

The glasses I wear now are three years old. At the time, I had chosen, to step away from the transition lenses I’ve had in the past and try something different. I opted for a tiny magnet on them that held magnetized  sunglasses when needed. I don’t like different. No surprise there!

When I step in from outside, I must stop to remove the sunglasses and put them in a safe place in my purse. They are fragile. Is there really a safe place in a woman’s purse? Not likely. Likewise, when going outside, I stop to fish my sunglasses out to put them on.

That, my friends is called a first world problem. Wah, wah ,wah. 

In fairness, I should say I am getting new glasses, but they are strictly for working at the computer. I’m eager to get these prescription lenses as it has been a challenge writing. Currently, I find myself wearing my glasses together with regular computer glasses. There is a fine line ‘window’ of where my vision is good and I end of nodding my head up and down as if saying yes. Hope you enjoyed that little mental picture.

Have you ever noticed there are some people you can’t please? Apparently I am one of them. It’s the little things in life that can be big if you are dealing with them on a daily basis. No one enjoys inconvenience.

Even so, I can’t help but wonder if inconvenience could be a flag waving for us to realign our thinking. We live in an age of convenience and comfort. While we take selfies of our pleasurable moments, it can also lead to idle time ill-used.

Maybe if our society took a more hands-on approach, we would feel better about ourselves. In the formative years of our country, people worked together to meet needs. Or so I have read. Folks put their heart and hand to the task to build a life. At the end of the day there was a satisfaction in meeting a challenge.

Another by product was appreciation for a can-do attitude. That is what Solomon found to be true.  He dabbled in a bunch of stuff, experimenting with what brought him the most pleasure. He discovered the most rewarding thing was, believe it or not…WORK! You can read all about his experiences in Ecclesiastes.

There is a pride in accomplishment and nothing feels better than feeling self-satisfaction.

NOTE TO SELF: Be thankful for the abilities I have each day that can so easily be taken for granted. Like vision.

Acknowledging a Need

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© jb katke

Cut out from a magazine, this little sign was found in dad’s garage. It reads:

I want my own place.

A place where

I can’t be reached.

I want to be “Off Duty.”

I want to call a “Time Out.”

I want a mute button for reality.

I want to put the world on hold and tell it:

“I’ll get back to you.”

Why did dad feel the need of his own place, and does that resonate with you as much as it did him, and me?

My father lived a full life. Having a sister with mental issues, he grew up in a dysfunctional home. At the ripe old age of twelve, he was gainfully employed up until his retirement. During WWII dad served in the Navy and was stationed in Hawaii-post the Pearl Harbor attack. How tough could that have been?

He and Mom never had an overabundance of funds, but could identify those in need and addressed it to the best of their ability. They made their home open, sometimes to teens, another to an aging uncle. As my grandparents aged, Mom and Dad stepped up looking after them too. Not too long after his retirement, mom’s health took a turn and passed away.

And the Good Lord addressed their need. Before they were promoted to their eternal home, they did find that place of respite and initiated their own time out. It came in the form of a cinder block cabin smack in the middle of nothing. They reveled in their off-duty status of zero responsibilities.

Whatever era we born in, there are times we need a time out. Just as we begin to return to a normal life, pulling off our masks, we find a comeback and the mask becoming part of our wardrobe.

Have you found a place to just breathe and be? My son and his wife love the Northwoods, a niece loves the beach and sun, a friend yearns for the mountains. I have found a couple places, rolling hills bearing bales of hay that speak of a life of purpose. Another is the ocean, watching waves rise and fall, you don’t know where they come from or where they are going, but life goes on. Sometimes, just listening to leaves rustling in the breeze can be calming.

There is a place that can easily be overlooked. The words of the Good Book have so much to offer.

I will give you only one for now, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  Matthew 11:28-30 The Message

Life can be so heavy. Acknowledging a need for divine help can go a long way; the Lord has a supernatural way of making the unbearable bearable.

The Price of Beauty

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© jb katke

Beauty don’t come cheap. I was on a mission triggered by my declining blush. Without even consulting me, the company that produced my favorite chose to discontinue my color. The gall!

I aimed to purchase blush, nothing else. As I shopped with a beauty consultant, she pointed out a couple shades that might work well with my skin tone. Then the salesmanship leaked out of her

“Using this toner enhances the color and blends over all.” She put some on my hand for me to see and instructed me to compare it with my other hand.

Oohh, I wish she hadn’t done that. I could see all right; I saw how old my hands were. Those veins sticking out proclaiming my years of toiling on planet earth. That should not have been necessary to point out. Truth hurts!

Then came the sticker shock. I was willing to pay up for a quality product, but had no idea how up, up would be.

That’s when I came up with a battle plan. Each time I need blush, I’m going to a different brand. In so doing, I aim to find an acceptable replacement so that I won’t be stranded again if a color should get discontinued. Never mind that it would take years to use up just one. We’re talking strategy.

As I shared my shopping experience with my husband, Dave, he pointed out a fact that I had completely overlooked. “The make-up counters are the last vestige of personal service we used to experience in retail stores.”

The man is right. No more do we have a salesperson showing us the handkerchiefs or gloves from under glass display cases. Stores of today, we pick what we want off the shelf. Many places are forcing us to ring up and bag our purchases. 

The problem? Not so much the self-service as a lack of personal interaction. People need that, not to mention needing employment.

We all wish to look our best when going out in public, do we not? I became aware of what I forgot as I rushed to leave the house one Sunday morning. Seated next to me sat the beautiful, shapely, always well-dressed, and manicured Jeanette. I forgot to put my face on.

Actually, I have Jeanette to thank for my current lack of make-up standing. She wore it to the hilt, prompting me to wonder about the day when she wasn’t feeling well. What a shock to visit  her and fine her with no false eyelashes, her hair a mess, pale cheeks, and sporting a bathrobe.

From that moment on, I determined to look as presentable as possible with very few enhancements. This should lessen the shock for those visiting and seeing me at my worst.

In light of what is going on in our world today, this is the epitome of trivial. Especially so, when our Creator made us as we are. I venture to say in his eyes, we look good. My assumption comes from when I first cracked open the Good Book.

Right at the start we read of how earth, water, sky came to be. After each accomplishment God said it was good. I take the liberty of thinking likewise for mankind. Not perfect of course; but we are made in his image.

Even so, we bear a  history of making poor choices. It’s that blasted free will that can get in our way. Like deciding blush is absolutely necessary. But then, if we are prone to poor decisions anyway, maybe a little color on our cheeks can’t hurt.

Marital Expiration Date

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© jb katke

Question: Is there an expiration date on wedding rings? The date I got mine is indelibly stamped on mine and my husbands’ heart. But on my rings, nothing but the evidence of heavy wear.

I ask because lately I have been unable to wear mine 24/7. After fifty years of devotion! Thank goodness my husband, Dave, has not questioned my naked finger.

I tend to get occasional itching and the rings irritate my raw skin. The situation brings the memory of my childhood when I had dry, chapped and scratched up hands. Apparently when washing my hands, I wasn’t drying them enough. Me and water never have gotten along well.

Maybe I am in hot water too much. Not the trouble kind of hot water, the hand-washing dishes kind of hot water. I must be working too hard.  Those that know me will laugh. I don’t approach housework with gusto.

I did work hard at obtaining my Mrs. degree though, and equally hard to maintain that status ever after. For two people to join forces having been raised in differing homes is no small challenge. Overlooking the cute traits while dating, that now drive you nuts can require daily patience. The flame that used to burn so bright, now needs a little fanning.

My heart goes out to those who seem unwilling to keep their marriage alive. A relationship that turns dry and scratched up is begging for relief. We are living in a disposable society. From house plants and razors, to cars, and even marriage. If it becomes worn out, replace it with something new. I beg you, don’t let the good thing you have die.

New flash! Relationships don’t operate in the same manner. People thrive in an environment of love and acceptance. Our pets may get more affirmative strokes than our spouse or children. The golden rule applies here, do unto others what you would have done for you. It requires a willing heart and effort.  The things worth having are worth working for.

I once heard a quip that people never change. They become more of what they were in their younger years. I can testify that Dave and I are not the same people we were in our early years of marriage. With shared experiences comes a better understanding of not only our weaknesses, but our strengths as well. Joining forces makes for a stronger union.

Additionally, I would not recommend leaving the Lord out of the equation. He comes with a track record of making all things right.

Recently I had a conversation with a fellow budding author. Our subject was nothing about marriage, but all about books. We spoke of our love of them and how vital they are in child-raising. Another world would open up each night as we read to our little ones at bedtime. We shared in their excitement of selecting books to add to their home library collection from the Scholastic Book Club. It involved intentionally entering their world of make believe.

That’s it right there! Intentionally entering in a relationship of another world. Just as Jesus allows things in our little life on earth, prompting us to give him time and thought of his world. Daily he pours love into us to share and spread wherever we can. Sometimes he stops us dead in our tracks to notice what he is doing. A relationship takes time to nurture, but carry on. It is worth it.

Memories

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 © jb katke

Stick with me, there is a story here.

Well, maybe more like a memory. Who does not have memories? They can hit you between the eyes when you are least expecting them. It happened to me this morning when we were singing a hymn in church. One I had not heard in a long time.

It took me back to my childhood, when the Methodist congregation would sing, Blessed Assurance, written by Fanny Crosby.

Blessed Assurance, Jesus is mine! Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!

Heir of salvation, purchase of God…

This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long…

All Sunday afternoon, Dad would whistle that hymn. He passed away and now resides in the presence of God. Were you aware that you have been purchased? I will not go into the gory details, and they are gory. Suffice it to say, Jesus, God’s son at one time walked this earth. He lived a perfect life and died on a cross in the most horrific of ways; bleeding to death paying for all the wrong things humans do; for no other reason than for us to have a relationship with him & his dad.

Most of the time, I do not dwell on memories. But when shopping I came across this little toddler toy. A quacking duck. Memories came back of my mom purchasing a toy much like this one for our son, only it was a clucking chicken. It has long since gotten discarded.

I had to purchase this little guy for my soon-to-be forth great-grandchild. It was meant to be!  For no other reason than to honor Mom and her quirky gifts. I have already earned the badge of a grandma with foresight, buying clothes the little ones will grow into years from now. What have I got to lose with this gift? It is unique and one-of-a-king, just like our God.

Despite Appearances

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© jb katke

“Wow, you folks must read a lot of books.”

“No ,we really don’t.”

Have you ever met someone whose words did not match their lifestyle? During our travels, we had the pleasure of catching up with the Skrogans. These friends from the past have the most amazing bookshelf I have ever seen in a private home.

Greeting us at the door, Kyle and Suzanne gave us the warmest welcome ever. Stepping inside It was the next thing luring us in. Seeing the books put me at immediate ease, and felt right at home.

Not obvious to the naked eye, Suzanne explained, “They are all categorized. These here are my manuals for my work, Over here are the ones that Kyle has used in his studies and ministry work. The ones at eye level are where we keep the children’s books when the grandchildren come by. This lower shelf holds paper, anytime we need something to write on, it comes in handy.”

They say they don’t read much? I beg to differ.

The four of us come from a generation to know books as an information highway. Clearly, they were available before things like internet. What we didn’t have at home, the public library made accessible.

Today the internet is certainly more available, but sometimes I question the accuracy. Plus, books can always be referred back to. I have discovered what I see on the internet could get lost in cyberspace, never to be found again. To my knowledge, the internet doesn’t read to children either.

I am a bookaholic. Does it show?

Recently, Dave and I found a reality television show concerning an overabundance of…pretty much everything. Not to say the Skrogans home is like that, it was neat as a pin. Nor am I alluding that we identify with excess either.

But we do have books. Some high school textbooks that are no longer applicable to today. Yearbooks of course. Souvenir books from places we have lived or visited. Then there are those books from family members. The ones that meant something to them only. Some are worth keeping, others not so much.

As we have seen on television, some things carry a heavy emotional value. I have found that to be true with many of my home items. Admittedly, I have even thought so far as to purchase in three’s, so that my kids would have this wonderful whatever I was buying too.

Your can’t imagine my shock and amazement that they are not interested.  The television show aired a daughter explaining to her mom, “Your ties to this are yours, not mine. You knew my uncle, I never met him. I don’t have your memories Mom; I have different ones.”

Oh. My. Goodness. My daughter shared those same words with me some time ago. The truth can hurt, but it also is freeing. I now have the ability to let go of an object I’m not taking into eternity with me anyway. Furthermore, I won’t be burdening the kids with stuff.

This letting go stuff is a process. It takes time.

By the same token, I am extremely grateful that God still finds value me and hasn’t disposed of me like an outdated book.

On The Road Again

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 ©jb katke

            Weary body, but oh, the things I have learned on our trip!

            Dave and I are home from our twelve days, 2,600+miles of travel to ‘Parts unknown.’ Leaving home, we determined to head northwest. It’s one thing to know we live in a beautiful country, quite another to experience it.

            Nebraska grows cacti. Who knew? I considered it a strictly hot desert plant, not to be found in a climate where ice and snow are common in winter.

©jb katke

            Buffalo don’t live in the United States, bison do. We found them moving on to a better field to graze in South Dakota. That was an unexpected roadside attraction we had not considered.

            Mount Rushmore. What an experience, I had to pinch myself to make certain I really was there. It took fourteen years to create what we enjoy today. With our audio tour we learned many men from various walks of life were involved.  I am in awe of the time, determination and skill to accomplish that work of art.

            Before heading home, we returned to Colorado to revisit a city that had more to offer than we could take in before. That fact remains. The rest of the country got there first making parking nonexistent. We sat in our hotel room  resting before the twelve-hour drive home.

            We still saw things.  Some folks continue to wear face masks, fearing exposure to last years COVID pandemic. Don’t think I am being critical, too many deaths have occurred to not take it seriously.  We all have our reasons for or against the masks, it just saddens me because Jesus doesn’t want us living in fear.

            There were plenty of marijuana shops available. Along with that were people that have chosen to live high, making this traveler uncertain of safety on the street.  Speaking of street…we witnessed some sleeping on the sidewalk of former businesses.

            Lots of businesses have closed permanently, or short hours of operation due to a lack of employees. Simply put, what we hear on the news is a sad reality.  

            We have not traveled in a long time, not that I’m complaining, some never get that privilege.  When the opportunity comes up though, Carpe Diem it. Seize the moment and go for the joy to be had. Our Creator did it for the pleasure we would get from his work.

            My take-away is to look for joy around us. So much in our world has changed. That is one of the things I appreciate about Jesus and his dad. They are the same, yesterday, today and tomorrow. The Good Book says we will be getting a new world and I can hardly wait, ‘cause it’s gonna be good!

            Just make sure you are going to be part of it. You do realize you are a work of art, compliments of God, don’t you? It didn’t even take fourteen years either.

Parts Unknown

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As a rule, vacations are rest and recreation. Ours became a spontaneous plan. The summer was fast disappearing. Crunch time was a now or never reality. We wanted to get away from it all before Dave’s work schedule resumes.

Usually, we get in the car and go, stopping wherever something of interest catches our fancy. We made a point of going to parts of the country we have not visited before.

The problem is there are too many places we have never been.

Planning was a prerequisite. We are fresh out of danger of COVID and ready to break loose from the restrictions made necessary last year. Along with the rest of the country. Better to have reservations made with assurance of a bed to fall into at night.

This dear man of mine planned the entire trip single-handed, thinking of where and what I would most enjoy. Dave did such a good job. Our final destination was somewhere west, so we dubbed the trip to ‘Parts unknown.’

I prepared for other aspects of the trip. Like leaving the house in a state you are okay with walking into when returning home. Naturally, washing and packing clothes too.

We are cramming too many miles in our allotted time. It’s one of those situations that, ‘Since we have come this far, we may as well go to…’

The Wyoming State Museum was one of our stops. It provides more history of the state than this head can hold. As we travel, I learn too

Question: As you bake, and note a recipe calling for baking soda, have you wondered where it comes from? Strolling through the displays, I came across this tidbit of information that I share with you. Baking soda comes from Trona rock! Who would have thought?

© jb katke www.wyomingstatemuseum.com

So many thoughts drift in and out of my mind as we travel. Dave’s main concern was me. Just like all that Jesus has done, just for me. Both are good men. We are not home yet, but thus far, we have had safe travel.

An unexpected perk too, was finding money in the washing machine at the laundromat. Provisions come, whether we ask for them or not. All we need do is look. Sometimes we find ourselves in parts unknown, but Jesus is there, excited to astound us.