Author: Quilter

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

Dog Days

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© jb katke

Ready or not,,,

The dog days of summer have arrived.  Heat—you can have it!

My husband Dave, among many others have said they prefer it over the cold.  I get it—I don’t like cold either.  My ideal temperatures are in the range of 70° to 75.°  That narrows down here one may live.

Realtors say, “Location, location, location.”

Our son Jamie says, “Be snow birds!”  Yeah, like we want two homes to maintain. No.

The best we can do is what this squirrel is doing—endure. We do, by taking turns. Dave is miserable in the winter, I, in the summer. This I will say, the current season we are in is minus Fred. I don’t want to write this too loud, in case he decides to return.

Fred is a cow bird that for the past three years has held us hostage in our home. I suspect he has met his demise, or he would be back this year too. Because he did not we have been able to open windows in the spring and let fresh air inside. It was wonderful! We look forward to the fall when the temperatures drop and we can again open up to let the breeze in.

It is important to keep in mind is that each day is a gift. Someone, somewhere Is enjoying a wonderful day, despite what the temperature may be. Every morning is a fresh opportunity to accomplish something or make life a little easier for someone else. Bringing a smile to another face is encouraging—that my life, and yours, can be meaningful to another.

Long ago, I interacted often with a bank teller, whom shall remain nameless because I cannot recall. Her facial features were on the harsh side, making her look angry much of the time. But when she smiled—oh my. What a transformation, it was beautiful sight to behold!  

Maybe all of us could use a little transformation, be it attitude or whatever. Life is too short to remain miserable. Allow Jesus to make your day a little easier—he is a master at transformation.

DNA MIA

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© jb katke

Today is the day to celebrate Dads. As I did on Mother’s Day, I wish to remind you to honor your children alongside you. Without them, you would not be a dad.

 Let me start off with a word picture. Imagine men walking around without a head. I’m not speaking of the apocalypse, just a mental picture that may seem unsettling.

There are an alarming number of homes without a father figure present. Many young people are questioning their gender identity because they lack the input a father has to offer. They need to see role play lived out. Not to say fathers and mothers are incapable of working what the opposite sex generally does. But by doing so—children get a full scope of all their opportunities.

Kids need a hero to look up to, a man that has interests and is willing to share them with his littles. A dad that is willing to enter his children’s  world and learn what interests they have. They need a strong male that can be depended upon always—and at the same time sensitive enough to attend an occasional tea party hosted by his daughter.

That is a tall order. I will be the first to admit fatherhood is a tough job. In his spare time there are home repairs and yardwork to be done, not to mention his career. He may offer a helping hand to his wife, because the demands of running a home never end for either of you.

Times of rest and relaxation are few and far between. Can I hear an Amen?

Men, you need to understand how important you are to our upcoming generation. Fathers’ are the head of a home—do not consider abandoning a home with no head. It creates a lop-sided, unsettled environment.

In case you need it written out—mothers need a husband to join them in shouldering the joys and frustration of training the next generation. It takes teamwork—sometimes grandparents join the fray. I’ve heard it said, ‘It takes a tribe to raise a child.’

Be the influencer Jesus made you to be. He is right there with you, arming you with his wisdom to pass on. Your presence, words and actions all matter.

I salute all that you father’s do and wish you a Happy Father’s Day!

A Story Gripper

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© jb katke

Have you ever read something, where the story line grips you and will not let go? This one keeps rewinding—playing over and again in my mind. It is worth sharing and may mean something to you too.

It is one that brings my friend Sally to mind—her life was a contrast to what I read. But more about her in a minute.

The story has two main characters, both men considered to be do-gooders. Cornell, a Roman soldier with high enough authority that he had men under his service. He was a praying man, sensitive to the needs of others—he routinely was a help and encouragement. But never imagined how the future was going to play out.

Having never met this Jesus, Cornell had a thirst to learn more about him. He heard the legendary stories—but wanted more. He had this dream-like vision that he should send his men to get Pete. Bring him back here and listen to what he says.

Pete was a follower of Jesus.  Knowing him well enough to go around telling others the message he had for mankind. Pete too, had a dream-like vision. To do something that would have been taboo in the current society. Pete’s vision included a message from Jesus. Essentially saying, “Do it.”

Pete did—the end result was a miracle in the making. Cornell’s whole family made a personal decision, right then and there.

What I did not share with you was the full message Cornell got. Jesus told him he saw how Cornell lived his life, praying for others and selflessly giving to those in need. In certain circles, one could say his life was a blessing.

But about Sally. She knows Jesus too. Like Cornell, she has a sensitive heart. Only Sally does not live exactly like Cornell. She has a comfortable life—and prays, but not so much for others. Wondering why she doesn’t get the answers she would like. Discontent might be a good way to describe her life.

You can read the story yourself—it’s an eye-opener. Check out the Good Book, Acts chapter ten. There is good stuff to dig out of it—ya never know how it could play out in your own life..

Considerations

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© jb katke

Have you ever thought of your home as breeding ground? Or maybe a training center?

I never have before, but am giving it serious consideration now. Over something so mundane these thoughts come to me. My husband, Dave, was cleaning out our window wells. They are the below ground level ‘pits’ for the lack of a better word where the basement egress windows are.

Pulling weeds, disposing of the debris that the wind blows in, he comes upon two little unexpected finds. Babies—a frog and a turtle. We did not get a picture of the frog—it wouldn’t stay in one place long enough to snap one. Bless their little hearts. Any living thing that is small is cute and adorable. Suddenly he is on a rescue mission.

These critters would never survive if he had not pulled them out. No food, no water. It’s a mystery how they got down there, but can assure you it was by accident. Little did we know these little things were hatching there.

It got me thinking of people homes. Where children grow, develop and learn. It’s true you know—home is a breeding ground and training center too. It is the place where language is learned, social graces of what is acceptable behavior and what is not. Home is the launching pad for living a respectable, independent life as a responsible adult.

Wow mom and dad, what an awesome responsibility you have!

Pat yourselves on the back if you are proud of your offspring. It takes time, work, and a truckload of patience. Here is a message of hope for you parents that are still on the ground floor with little people under your feet. If your child seems to make excessive boo-boos, take heart. Our best lessons are learned through error. That goes for adults too—cut yourself some slack along with your child.

My own children are now grown and beyond my teaching them. Some of them are college graduates and could probably teach me a thing of two.  Giving it more thought, they do. One of the biggest lessons a parent learns is to respect the no longer child they birthed.

Dave and I are incredibly proud of ours—despite our shortcomings, knowing with Jesus’s help—we did good!

June Finding

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© jb katke

Are you ready for summer? June will soon be upon us. The month conjures upcoming events to mind. Graduations, weddings, vacations, picnics—you can fill in whatever I left out.

The picture you see is a couple vintage Bride’s magazines, circa 1969/1970. I was planning my own wedding—sentiment is the only reason I have them today. Boy, am I glad now!

Coming across them in my never-ending goal of downsizing, I am so thankful to have them. Perusing through the pages, to my surprise, these two drawings presented themselves to me. One depicts my wedding gown before Mom altered it. I recall the day of purchase like it was yesterday.

The other is a picture of my dearly beloved husband-to-be. Have I seen these pictures before? I don’t recall. Did I put them in the magazine for safe keeping? Maybe. Or did Mom insert them in there for me to find at some later date? That I can address. A treasure found fifty-three years later.

OMG. What if I had disposed of the mags without giving a look see? It was fun to reminisce what was trending back in the day. I consider these finds a gift. My mother was a self-taught artist and I am very proud of her. She could have made a name for herself. Instead, she took my father’s name.

Mom grew up in a different era. Women were, for the most part, expected to marry and have children, end of story. We know there were exceptions. Today’s women have more opportunities to offer the world. Yet some of us do as I did, and follow in known footsteps.

Even so, Jesus can present new horizons to contemplate. Never would I have dreamed of being a blogger and author. Feel free to read One Day Wonders, Ordinary Days Becoming Extraordinary and find out what Jesus did in my own life and those near and dear to me.  

Can you see yourself doing the unimaginable? If so, what would it be? Do share.

In Memory

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© jb katke

Memorial Day is fast approaching—bringing any sort of memories to the surface. Growing up in my parents home, we always loaded up the car with flowers and a modest picnic fare, traveling north to Sowles Cemetery. 

The trip was not long, but took up the day. It was an extended weekend designed give honor to those who died defending our country. The family cemetery held deceased relatives, but none to my knowledge served in the military. Those that did serve were buried elsewhere.

Originally, Memorial Day was known as Decoration Day. That description was more in keeping with what Mom and Dad did. Bringing clippers to trim around the graves and planting flowers, Geraniums come to mind. The graves were the final resting place of both my parents grandparents. People I never knew but were real to my folks.

After marriage, Dave and I never followed that tradition. But there are other ways that show honor. In my personal calendar I mark both the birth and death dates of those I love—bringing them to mind at least a couple times a year.

Something I learned about the guards of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is certainly commendable. There are numerous rules and regulations that I will not go into. But will share what took place in 2003. Hurricane Isabelle was making her way to the DC area. In the gearing up preparation for the coming storm, the House and Senate relieved duty of the guards. Only they would not hear of it, “No way,” was their response. In the midst of that storm, the guards endured getting soaked to the skin with pelting rain and high winds. They said, “Being assigned to the Tomb was not just an assignment, it is the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson.”  

That, my friend, is showing respect.

Recently, in reading some of the Good Book, I learned of yet another way of showing honor. Back in the day of course. When an important event or interaction between two people (or nations) took place, stones would be laid as a monument. It was erected as a means of remembrance of what took place. Children that were not present at the time would learn the history and importance of the event.

What about right now—how could one make a personal memorial for others to see? Here is one suggestion. Make a timeline. Draw a long line on paper—start with the day of your birth. Continue on making x’s or a dot wherever something eventful took place. Give the date and event. Note when your parents died and from what, the day President Kennedy was assassinated, when man landed on the moon—as well as personal stuff, wedding, children. You get the idea.

As grandparents, we have witnessed a few things. It will give the grandchildren something to learn from you. Meaningful communication is never a bad thing.

By the way. The above photo is of my husband who served our country, but has not died in so doing. He remains with me still today!

Giving All

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© jb katke

This is a neat story—I wish it were mine. All I can do is pass it on…with a few comments and paraphrases from yours truly.

Peter and John were followers of Jesus, back in the day when he walked this earth. Devoted to their faith, the two men were about to enter into the prayer building. They were stopped short by a crippled guy begging for money.

How many people ask for money today?

Something to note is this man is not labeled a beggar, he was just a cripple in need. He did not look at these men, but feeling their presence and the potential to give what he requested.

Shame can keep one from looking others in the eye.

Peter did the talking—with his attention focused on the cripple, “Look at us. I don’t have money to give, but what I have, I give freely to you. Because of who Jesus is, get yourself up and walk.”

Peter extended his arm, grabbing hold of the man’s right hand, helping him to stand. Elated the no-longer-cripple joined them inside, walking and skipping. It seems details are included that are not necessary. Or are they?

Why was this narrative included? The Good Book, among so many other details, tells us Jesus’ dad was a man of action and has a ‘Mighty right hand.’ It can be found in Psalms 118:16. That makes one wonder, is this cripple going to do mighty things now too, because of his healing?

Why do I even bother to tell you all this? Because daily we are inundated by people with outstretched arms, asking for our money. Our hard-earned money that is difficult to come by these days.  A few dollars does not go very far anymore.

Do you have something to offer to those in need? There is more to give than just money. Some donate unused clothes. I know a guy that befriended a principal of a local elementary school, learning of ways the community can be a supportive assistance. He also listens as children strive to become better readers. We can be creative in our giving.

One of the most beneficial ways help is sharing the love of Jesus. The impact made is eternal. If you are a modern-day follower of Jesus, freely share what a difference he can make in life.

The benefit can be twofold, the hearer getting acquainted with a loving Jesus and the teller becoming more bold in faith and sharing. Both are necessary.

Twisted Mom’s Day

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© jb katke

Every year—the same thing. Let’s turn things around.

Mother’s Day comes and we all gather around mom and sing the praises. Can we just for a moment celebrate those who made her a mother? The children.

Not everyone has children, but we all at one time or another were a kid. This is your time to shine, pat yourself on the back for a job well done…or maybe you gave it your best shot.

Motherhood has no previous training. I can say that with certainty because when awareness of the first baby’s arrival, we look at other children and think, “My child will never be like that.” And we mean it with our whole heart. Said with the best of intentions, of course. However, when the baby books entered the house, the baby didn’t read them.

Children do what comes natural to them. First time mothers have a tendency to do likewise. Not to point fingers or anything, but maybe overreact? Or become helicopter parents—forever hovering over said child?

With the birth of our first-born, I was overcome with the responsibility placed in my arms. With every little sniffle I marched him to Sick Bay. That was fine as Dave was in the Navy at the time. His concern was the future:

Dave: “You can’t just run our son to the doctor for every little thing.”

Me: “If our son needs medical care, he’s going to get it.”

Subject closed. Only it wasn’t until I got accustomed to caring for our little one.

Time passes and that is what prompted this photo. Babies grow. Their presence permeates through the entire house. From rattles to homework and shoes, the picture changes while the clutter remains.

All the while we mothers are learning important things. Like unconditional love, patience, and just how strong you have been all along. Children teach us those things. In those early years, mine taught me to discuss my frustration of them to Jesus. After all—he loves them even more than I do.

Can you relate?

Shoulda, Coulda

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©jb katke

I wanted to but didn’t.

The temptation was strong to stay in the parking lot until the driver next to me returned to their car.  This sign was in their driver side window. My inclination was to wait until they came out and then tell them, “You’re not chunky.” But then maybe they were.

Besides, I came to the grocery store to do business, not offer sweet platitudes to somebody. The need to accomplish what I came for took over. However, I will confess, the temptation was equally strong not to approach each overweight shopper, “Is it you that has that clever message in your window?”

That could have lead to a bunch of awkward conversations. “No, why do you ask?”

Better to let it go. Another clever sign I’ve seen on cars recently is the “Please be patient, Student Driver.” Maybe they are legit, but I doubt it—so many have been sighted. A dead giveaway is when the sticker is adhered crooked.

Shortly after moving to Kansas, I saw a street sign bearing the words, “Keep moving, merge later!” Confession, the exclamation point is mine, not on the actual sign. But it did strike me funny.

Another one, during the same move was the Touchless Carwash sign. Never had I ever seen raindrops as enormous as what was experienced. A tremendous amount of flooding at the time—highways closed, as well as the carwash. The rain water reached the height of the sign, probably two feet deep. That was touchless alright.

If you look around, you may see a few humorous signs yourself. Some though, are worth being mindful of. “Deaf child at play,” “Smile, you’re on camera,” or our good old speed limit signs. Those are especially helpful when school lets out. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.

The Darndest Thing

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© jb katke

The darndest thing happened as I sat down at the computer to tell you all about Betsy McCall. She was a doll my mother insisted I have—when I was pretty much done playing with dolls.

I started to tell the story of how she came to be in our family. Today  she is a sorry sight. Sorrier than I realized. When I went to the drawer I knew her to be in, she was gone. At some point in time, I must have put her in a very safe place that I cannot locate now.

The hunt for her continued. Looking high and low to no avail. That is when the darndest thing happened. Remembering some storage boxes we have yet to unpack I found a little souvenir our great grandchildren left for me to play with from Thanksgiving. These little cars. 

If I hadn’t been searching for Betsy, I would never have known the cars were here for me to enjoy. I never did find Betsy’s torso. She is a little worse for wear as my own girls were interested in a doll from mom’s childhood. Bit by bit, she came apart. All I could find is one of her legs.

Poor Betsy, she is lurking around somewhere. No doubt I will find her when I am looking for something else. That is usually the way things go, isn’t it?

The method to Mom’s madness was a secret to me. But the day after our little shopping trip, mom pulled out a sewing pattern to make clothes for Betsy. That is when I learned to sew. It helped fill my otherwise long lonely summer. There were no playmates in my neighborhood.

Such memories. Mom had made me a cardboard ‘house’ complete with furniture. The box bit the dust still in my childhood. The bed she made is intact, but was unable put my hands on the crocheted bed cover. Maybe another blog another day Betsy can enjoy the sunshine in her claim to fame.

Just for kicks, what were some of your childhood memories? Let’s go down memory lane together.