Category: Seasonal

The Best Gift Ever

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“For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” Esther 4:15 NIV

I have a story within a story here, hang with me; every bit of it is true. The above verse is recorded during a very bad time. It hails from a long-ago society that may be hard to imagine today. There was a king, Ahasuerus, big on ego and short on temper. One could say he had a temper tantrum when his wife, who was incredibly beautiful didn’t cooperate when he ordered her to bare herself to his guests. As was common in the day, he just disposed of her. Not killing; worse, making her his concubine. No one in the outside world would have access to her for the rest of life.

But this left the king without a wife. He decides to put on a beauty contest, the winner gets to be the new queen. Enter Esther. She was a young orphan girl living with her cousin.

At the same time as this drama is unfolding, the kings right hand man, has anger issues of his own. He gets ticked at one guy and decides to have his entire Jewish race wiped out.  

Only God could orchestrate this scene. Esther wins the contest, becoming the new queen. Unbeknownst to the king, she is a Jew. Because you are reading this today, you can figure out how things turned out. If you want the gory details, haul out the Good Book and read Esther for yourself. It’s one of my favorites.

The reason I go to this story length is because you might be feeling like your living in a bad time. There is no reason for me to elaborate on the conditions, you know. We find ourselves in a place we never imagined being. Still. Holidays demands give enough stress and funds can go only so far. Christmas may look different for many this year. This is why I pass these words to you.

Currently I am reading a book from one of my favorite authors, Debbie MacComber. One Simple Act, Discovering the Power of Generosity. MacComber elaborates on all the ways we can gift someone without spending an arm and a leg. One of her suggestions is plain and simple. Words. Ones that encourage, build-up and offer hope. Like Esther, you may be in such a time as this for a reason.

Your words may be spoken or written. Not everyone is good at expressing themselves but I favor the written. The receiver will hang onto your note and read it many times over. It may be outside your comfort zone, but dabble with what you might wish to hear. Chances are others would like to hear the same thing.

The beautiful thing about words there is no need to shop around for the best price. The added plus is you don’t need to wrap them. Well, maybe wrap them in truth and love. It won’t hurt. Honest! Feelings and actions acknowledged are a gift.

Words have power, Jesus’ dad proved it.  According the Good Book, he spoke and nature, all of life really came to be. Creating mankind, he breathed in Adam and he came to life. The rest is history. There is more to that, but today lets focus on the birth of a perfect man, arriving on planet earth as a newborn. He experienced what the world had to offer and made a way for us to know a perfect life too. If we want it, I should add.

The WOW factor comes when we realize we don’t deserve the good things in our life, he granted them before we got our act together.

Post T-day Memories

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 © jb katke

We have wrapped up another Thanksgiving Day for the memory book. Like every year, this one was different. Silly me, I thought the energy of the day was in all the prep work of the house and food. Not so, it’s keeping up with the little people in the family.

I learned my great-grandchildren are a bigger treasure than I realized. They bring life to the party and a new way to play games. Six-year-old Josie and I sat down to play a Bingo game. We were each playing by differing rules; she explained, “GG I think you are playing the right way, but that is not the way I play the game.” Such tact and insight from one so young.

Matthew found Nana cleaning up in the kitchen. But he wanted to play with her. “I’ll tell you what, you help me in the kitchen, then we will play, ok?” He agreed and was quite the little helper, never minding his clothes getting sopping wet in the process of rinsing dishes.

Aunt Naomi disappeared. Little Teddy found her for us. Not quite talking yet he stood outside the bedroom door pointing into the room. “Yes Teddy, that is my bedroom where I go nigh-night.” Placing his little finger up to his lips, motioning me to shush. There she was stretched out on the bed taking a catnap. Proving to me he was sensitive enough to be quiet when someone is trying to sleep. 

My youngest granddaughter, Emily, had agreed to a shopping trip with me. I learned she is in to antiques and all things old. A girl after my own heart! Initially we were after a bookcase, but that got taken care of by a friend. She’s becoming a reader, oh happy day! But it seems some home décor was also needed.

To the antique flea market we went, with boyfriend in tow. I thought maybe to keep her from spending too much, but no. He’s into old stuff too…my heart is full. What fun it is to (finally) have a young member of the family desiring heirloom things. She probably could have gone shopping in my home and saved some money. The two of them made this old lady very happy.

Families. Sometimes we think we think there is no living with them. In reality we cannot live without them. They are capable of bringing both tears of pain and joy, but the love is worth it all. Its been said we can choose our friends but something as important as kin are up to the Lord. He knows the personalities needed for us to expand and grow.

Most importantly, to hand the ones we treasure over to Jesus when we are helpless to make sense of awkward situations. Only he can do that; I can vouch to you it will all be good. Not just for you, but will bring added respect to Jesus. Then you too, can become the voice of experience spreading the good news to others that need hope. The Christmas season a prime time to do that.

Genuine Thanksgiving

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Thanksgiving

A particular Thanksgiving comes to mind annually. The year was 1981,

I had just come home from the hospital, having given birth to our third child.

Being so close to the holiday made commitments to anyone’s invite to join them for dinner sketchy. I’ve yet to meet a little one that takes note of a holiday or their parents schedule before making an appearance.

Our friend Carrie thought of that. Of course she would, being the mother of four.

Our church made a point of delivering meals to new families. And Carrie delivered. On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving she brought us a meal with all the fixings. Even down to festive napkins.

I was incredulous at the time and effort she invested for our family. Not everyone would be open to preparing a meal like that to give away. Carrie wanted to make sure we didn’t spend a holiday in want. Mental pictures formed of her returning home and serving hotdogs to her own family.

Each year that memory comes back to life, humbling me every time. Except I can’t recall what we actually did for Thanksgiving that year. Whatever it was couldn’t top what Carrie had done for us. That sticks.

That is a picture of sacrificial love. Unexpected, but appreciated annually. My wish for you is a happy Thanksgiving, one that may be filled with kindness, love, and a memory for all things good.

Gratitude Attitude

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The upcoming holiday season has all the makings of being different, just like last year was. Changes are part of life. The part of life I don’t like. It runs along the line of kids not coming home for Thanksgiving. Or the death of a loved one leaving an empty chair at the table will always bring a heart wrenching ache.

Many Thanksgivings ago, a group of our friends joined in making a basket for a less fortunate family. One of the women had the idea of using a laundry basket; a homemaker never has too many of those. We had a good time meeting up at the local grocer to select foods to place in it.  There was ample room for the turkey and all the trimmings.

Imagine our surprise when delivering this; to learn the family had no oven! We had the good fortune that one of our kids worked at an appliance store, making it possible for us to throw in a few dollars and provide that as well. I think the Indians had a saying something along the line of you can’t know what someone is going through until you walk a mile in their moccasins.

As you comb your mind, desperately seeking ways to make things festive, remember two this. Things could always be worse, and don’t forget to be grateful. Retail stores barely acknowledge Thanksgiving. Your thoughts will bring all sorts of memories to mind that could easily be overlooked. The near miss of an accident, the ability to pay your bills, or maybe being thankful you have an oven. An attitude of gratitude doesn’t focus on the have nots, just the haves.

This year decreased availability of items as prices go up in everything imaginable is a recipe for a stressful season. I urge you to take stock of what you do have. Have you seen the pictures of Christmas trees made of books? Lots of us have excess books, put them to work!

Let your creative juices flow. If you’re lacking in that, check out Pinterest, it seems to be teeming with projects. Tap into the people you know that love to work with their hands. Or, try shopping in the local mom and pop markets; they may cater services that Walmart doesn’t. For some time now I have heard we should check them out, too many have succumbed to the pandemic crisis. They struggle to make ends meet too and will thank you for the support.

Praise to the good Lord above that we still have options.

Unaturalistic

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If you are a lover of all things nature, the following is not for you. You may be excused to carry on with your day.

Dave and I have a friend that can look at a spider and see the beauty of it. Mom always said, “A thing of beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I see nothing beautiful to behold in a spider. My eye sees a creepy, crawly, too-many legged thing that does not belong in my home. Nor in my yard.

Our exterminator and I were chatting outside as he finished up working. Spotting a spider crawling on the house. “Since you are here, could you shoot some spray on that spider?” That being his business, he obliged me. “Oh, he’s irritated now.” With indignation I replied, “I don’t want him irritated; I want him dead!”

This time of year, I would wield a big stick when mowing the grass of our previous home. The house sat on a  larger than normal piece of land for a neighborhood and held all kinds of nesting places. The autumn season brought those really big orb spiders making their presence known. If you should run into one of their webs you would get a crawling sensation, even if the spider was not there. I probably made quite a picture for passers-by, waving a stick around, knocking down webs that cannot be seen from a distance.

Just writing this makes me feel  crawly. I cannot tolerate them. Everyone has something that can’t be tolerated. Grandma wouldn’t tolerate a messy house. My mom couldn’t tolerate the cotton balls that come with over-the-counter medications.

The mystery is why some things are more bothersome than others. Even the most tolerant of people can be intolerant. We come from various walks of life and experience different situations. Its saddening when folks find they can’t handle those who think differently. It happens in places you would least expect. Differing diagnosis between doctors, private schools, right on down to families.

 No one is exempt, not even churches. Does that surprise you? Many look upon a church as a place where perfect people go. Not so. A church houses  a people group who are struggling to make sense of life, that have messed things up badly and need to know that God provides hope. He is capable of turning difficulty into something good.

My father once told me, “If you find a perfect church to attend, you’ll ruin it.” Gee, thanks dad! He also told me that if I find one that teaches from the Bible, you will hear truth. Dad was right to steer me in that direction. Even with our differences, we can find Jesus’ words to cling to, when our actions are questionable.

He warns us against doing what seems right in our own eyes and thankfully sees where our heart lies. Jesus doesn’t want any creepy, crawly attitude to enter our hearts, especially with those that we will be spending an eternity with!

Costuming

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Shhh,,,can you hear a sigh of relief? Halloween is over for another year. For the mothers that made those costumes, they should get a badge of honor. I remember those days. Making them a size or two larger to accommodate a coat was a necessity. Michigan Octobers are cold.

Halloween isn’t the only time costumes are donned. Back in the day of my childhood, we dressed up for church. Flying on an airline, travelers donned their good duds. Later on, work places allowed casual Fridays, veering from the business casual of the week.

Living near an international electronic business, I see employees out and about in ultra-casual attire. They could turn the tables and have a dress for success Friday. Time has changed and I’m not certain if its for the better or worse.

Through the years I have witnessed these changes, not just in our wardrobe, but the behavior of people as well. When dressed nicely, people don an attitude of  civility towards each other. Those who put time and thought into how they present themselves are respected.

Tim is a case in point. He lamented, “My wife makes such a big deal about how I dress for work. But I like wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, they’re comfortable.” Not to argue his point, but when he presented ideas or wishes concerning his position, he wasn’t taken seriously. It sincerely brought him down.

I tried to make him understand, but not sure he bought it. “The thing is Tim, how you present yourself to others is a reflection on both you and your wife. She thinks highly of you and knows you deserve the respect that comes with what you bring to the company.”

Years ago, our son Jamie earned a two-week scholarship to the National School of Music. It was a big deal for us; as we readied him for the school, there were regulations we had to abide by. He was required a certain color of pant, shirt and belt. The purpose was not lost on us.

Students from all walks of life came for the focused classes they provided. By everyone having the same attire, it leveled the playing field. Class and social distinction was eliminated and gave the students the opportunity to form lasting friendships, no matter the background.

Getting back to Halloween, perhaps we should have more input in what our children put on. If they are going to act out that character, it could be to their detriment. I wouldn’t want my little Superman to try flying out a window. No one would want their young one dressed like a devil.to act like one. Better to stick with innocent figures; angels would be good!

Not Sorry

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© jb katke

It’s so easy to look back on things we’ve done and have regrets. Can we take a moment and make a list of what we are not sorry for?

I’m sharing this photo with you, a weekend project. The wheelbarrow carries much more than these pumpkins you see. It was my dad’s, and he used to give me rides in it when I was a child. We have no need of it, but I can’t seem to part with it yet. Having limited storage ranks this as yard décor. I hope.

Currently, we are in an HOA community, they call the shots as to whether we can keep it or do away with it. Providing it is not a problem will entail having to have some form of a pretty in it year-round. I’ve figured out summer, each fall I can do as you see here. Winter I will have to think on.

My husband has his doubts. Especially after we embarked on moving the thing full of dirt in this locale. A few things were in its path, making it difficult. It took muscle, moving the downspout and a guy grumbling, “The things we do to keep a wife happy.”

Not sorry. It’s looking good, for the moment. Now if I can just get the powers that be to see things my way.

When a new baby joined our family, I made it a practice to keep the older siblings home from school when I returned home with our new bundle of joy. My purpose was to give the children a chance to get to know their new sister and how home was going to look a little different. Hopefully too, they wouldn’t feel left out and resentful. Not at all sorry.

The day our youngest put in a request to wear her roller skates to school amongst warnings, “You’re gonna get in trouble!” She didn’t. Permission granted, not sorry.

Here is a big one, giving my granddaughters cake along with their breakfast! When Momma found that out, “Mom! I can’t believe you did that! You never let us kids do that.” Along with grand parenthood comes certain rights, like spoiling them rotten. Not sorry.

Finally got my husband to agree to moving. “This winter we’ll fix up the house and put it on the market in the spring.” I found our new home that same afternoon. Not sorry, we enjoyed that home. 

It took a long time coming, but I have a hutch for all the inherited dishware that belonged to various relatives, I was next in line. No one, including me, has good dishes anymore, making hutches almost extinct. I enjoy mine. Not sorry.

I accidently got into a car accident, totaling my vehicle. A car I never liked anyway. It is now of great importance to my husband that I like our cars. Not sorry.

It took me some time to realize the Lord was serious. I’m now following his direction and writing a book. Not sorry.

Really grateful that our Creator sees potential in all of us, giving us opportunity to step out of comfort zones and see what a difference he can make in life. So incredibly not sorry!

Things That Bring A Smile

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© jb katke

During this COVID season, I have cut back drastically from shopping. Such a pity as I am an excellent shopper. I have a system; beginning to my right, I walk the four outer walls. Then proceed up and down the center aisles, making sure I miss nothing. As I go along, I place items of a potential purchase in my cart. Just before I approach the cashier, I retrace my steps and return my choices back on their respective shelf. I don’t bring much home, but do save a few dollars in the process.

A new home dec store opened in the neighborhood some time back and I could resist no more. The day was reserved on my calendar and I was so anxious I could taste the anticipation. Enough time had passed that I gave myself permission to make a fresh addition to my home. Clearly, I was in a spending mood.

Following the above pattern, I happened along many nice items. They didn’t make it to my cart, though. The place was full bore decked for Halloween. I’m not into spooky, so passed them by. However, I am all over autumn décor. There was much to be had; but a bit glamorous for my taste. Others were a little too scare crow like. Did I mention that I’m picky? I prefer the term selective. Much was priced over what I was willing to spend. Leaving the store, I was disappointed in my inability to satisfy that spending spree I had hoped for.

But wait. Next door is an antique shop. Old and broken in is more my style. Antique stores are not what I remember from my youth. My parents used to frequent them when there was a furniture need; and indeed, the merchandise was vintage. Today, we might find something old, a fair share of refurbished items or new crafts with that aged look. If you are intent on a genuine antique, care must be taken.  

I am glad I entered. Because being a genuine antique is not of importance to me, I find myself  more open-minded to what strikes my fancy. Today my fancy was struck by a vintage toy we once had for our children. It was a pint-size bench that held round pegs for hammering. Immediately, it brought a smile to my face.

Our first home had four bedrooms upstairs in a revamped attic. There was only one heat register; unacceptable for Michigan winters. The home improvements started with a new furnace and heat ducts for the upper level. The job created quite a racket, more that our little son could handle. When the workers began their hammering, so did Jamie on his toy. I thought was his coping mechanism was clever for a three-year-old.  

I’m not quite sure what to call the other purchase I made. Possibly an urn, or maybe a vase? It certainly was not a need but the colors called out to me. Blue and green are a favorite color combo of mine. Showing the purchase to my husband, Dave, I noticed Roseville written on the bottom. I have watched enough of the TV show, Antiques Roadshow, that the name sounded familiar to me. Roseville pottery is of value. There were no other markings to determine if it is the real deal or a knock-off. No matter to me, I like it.

My mother’s words come back to me, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

Another adage, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It makes me so very grateful that Jesus found joy in me before I had joy in him. He might be smiling at us right now.

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. 

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.