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One Mans’ Treasure

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© jb katke

 Momma said, “One mans’ trash is another mans’ treasure.”

Together Dave and I sorted out his wood supply. Generally, when he has a new addition he just adds it to any pile. Not anymore. We laid it all out on the garage floor to determine what is Red Oak from White Oak; separating it from the Walnut and Maple…you get the idea.

It will be helpful when he is looking for a specific wood for his latest project; knowing just where to find it. That is after making an Inventory List. Wasted time?

Not at all. It’s every bit as important as cataloging your quilt fabric. I suppose you don’t do that either. But you have your own treasured things. Perhaps useless to some, likely your kids, who want nothing to do with what took you a lifetime to accumulate. But you know what has potential use. How many times have you gone to get any given object, that you know you have somewhere, only can’t put your hands on it? At least not when you need it. Speaking for self, often I have gone on a hunt only to find what I was looking for last month, but not finding what I need today.

Maybe I need a running list of what is where too. Most likely I would misplace my list. Is there any hope for us? Being creative takes so much space…and time if we have to hunt it down. If I look too long, the feeling passes. This is why we organize folks!

It brings to mind what my father experienced on his (decidedly) last trip. We were still living in our home state of Michigan and Dad, with his wife were staying in a hotel. Their choice not ours, but that’s another story.

Apparently, they brought along some valuables. Not all hotels offer a safe in the room, so they scouted around, trying to find a secure spot. It seems there were several secure spots. Dad would put his valuables one place, then decide, no this other spot is better. Only to find yet another good hiding place. The problem is, he was having trouble remembering where the last safe place was. The light dawned. They shouldn’t be traveling anymore. It was too easy to forget important things.

I get it and so does Jesus.  No one wants to lose what they consider valuable. That is how Jesus feels about his creation. I’m talkin’ people, you and I. He had a specific purpose for each of us and knows our potential. That is, what we can do with his help.  That is where hope can be found.

The Last Kiss

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pexels-elina-fairytale

We never know when the last kiss will happen.

Daves text read: “Had an accident this morning. Everyone is fine. Have to go for a drug test now. Not sure what happens the rest of the day. Made a left at a 4-way-stop and a girl broadside me.”

Our day had started like every other workday, lumbering out of bed, still full of sleep. Breakfast made and a kiss as Dave went out the door. Only I was a mess the rest of the morning, waiting for a phone call.

His job requires driving a company car. Protocol dictates his next step. Accidents happen. That’s why they are called accidents, it’s unintentional, otherwise they would be referred to as normals.

Have you been there? To know how I felt?

This is why I rise at o-dark-thirty. To see him. To get what may at any given day be my last kiss. My mind took me places none of us care to be.

His student passengers were unharmed. To his credit he remained calm and collected. A later report from one of his colleagues confirmed his level-headedness kept the students from panic.

Have you experienced that last kiss? Need I mention the emotion of sending your beloved police officer or fire-fighter off to another workday?

Never underestimate a goodbye kiss. There is more meaning packed into it than the passionate ones.

It says I love you… I will miss you while you are gone…Thank you for your work ethic…You make our lives more comfortable…I appreciate you…Be safe…I look forward to your return tonight.

God willing, and he did, my loved one returned home from just another day of work that included an accident. Jesus is always with you too.

A Necessary Day

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© jb katke

The views expressed are mine, but I am not the only one.

I have become the person I would try to avoid in my younger years. I used to dread talking with people that were forever bringing up God. Is this you?

Today, Good Friday, is one of necessity. It’s a mixed bag of people that would agree or disagree with me. All of us have our reasons.

When I was a child the airwaves of Good Friday were filled with television shows coming from churches. No more; today is just another ordinary day. Only it isn’t.

I won’t go into the details of Jesus’ death. I have briefly mentioned them in my previous blog, The How of Jesus.

The world, in its’ early days was perfect. One guy, Adam, jacked it up, making us all suffer. Jesus knows.

His plan was to be in friendship with his creation. If feelings are not mutual and you’ve experienced rejection from others; you have a feel for what I am saying. Jesus knows.

A real concern these days is loneliness. Jesus knows.

Being out in public has become dangerous with the fear of being beaten. Jesus knows.

Children mocking their peers can grow into mocking adults when you are misunderstood. Jesus knows.

As Jesus hung on that cross, he felt all of the above. But knew it was necessary. The Good Book says the only way we can have that friendship with Jesus is for him to die a martyrs’ death. He did it willingly.

After his death, he sent the Holy Spirit so that we can experience a peace that the world cannot offer. All this for the opportunity to have a relationship with him and ultimately an eternity together; to live in perfection. It wasn’t a good day for Jesus, but it was a necessary one for you and I.

This Sunday we will be full of thanksgiving because Jesus rose from the dead and is alive and loving us still. Feel free to join in the celebration.

A Lopsided View

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 © jb katke

Although the holidays are officially over, the house can look as lopsided as this picture.

All the décor of the season packed away, making our home look bare. Except one hides in plain view, to delay its slumber until next Christmas. It’s an unintended tradition of mine, to overlook packing away at least one of the objects. I’ll get to it, but don’t hold your breath.

My husband, Dave, and I have been swapping germs for the last four months. I’m not good at illness. Enough already. Feeling good is in the distant past. So long ago that we think back to our childhood. Okay, that is an exaggeration.

Returning to reality is hard to do. Am I the only one that needs a vacation after the holidays? A time out from the demands to go and do that come along Christmas, an escape from the germs that roam freely. Just a chance to breathe easy and be at peace with ones’ self.

Last week I showed you the finished product of an apron for my granddaughter. It felt good to get back in the quilt room. Quilts were what I did before this writing gig kicked in.

It brought me pleasure to create something beautiful that was useful too. Only my quilts generally were not beautiful, and rarely finished. Those that did reach completion were done with great relief, followed with the comment, “I won’t be making that again!”

I could breathe easy in the quilt room peacefully stitching fabric into designs. I used to say that time stops in the quilt room because I could lose myself in the pleasure it brings. Meals and housework took a back seat. Indeed, today time has stopped. The clock batteries ran out and I seldom enter the room anymore to worry about the time and how I shouldn’t be here.

Meals and housework continue to reside in the back seat because I haven’t been up to it. Have I ever been up to it? No. Some day I will get the ladder out and set that picture upright. Refer back to not holding your breath.

Another place to breathe easy is when I sit down to read God’s word. Have you ever read something that just impacts you to the core? If not, the Good Book is a great place to start. I enjoy reading of history, families of the past, and what to expect in the future. Even if you are into Sci-fi or talking animals, it literally has something for everyone. Royalty, family rivalries, you name it.

Each time, I come away with a peace that cannot be explained. The pages reveal that there is a reason and a plan for living. Inside you will read how much you and I are loved; I’m telling you it’s over the top and sets your life straight…no ladder needed.

Grunt Work

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© jb katke

My thoughts take on a dangerous subject. Education, the higher kind. But first my confession.

My husband and I are into reality TV. Our viewing pleasure ranges from home improvement to how things are made, with a smattering of history.

One favorite is How America Works (www.imdb.com/title/tt15460842). The show is hosted by Mike Rowe and features all aspects of things we never think about. The shows have covered firefighters, how aluminum is made on down to sugar, corn mills and a whole lot more.

All of them boast of the work and products that maintain America. Its informative and by shows end, one appreciates what these average American workers do to make our life easier and/or safer.

As I have watched various episodes, I took notice of the employees featured on the worksites. Not all these individuals have a higher education. Some are college educated, but for the most part a mere high school education.

These are blue-collar workers, doing what some refer to as ‘grunt work.’ Grunt work is generally looked down upon, considered an undesirable, thankless and menial job. But as I watch these workers do their thing, they are not ignorant. Instead, they take pride in what they do realizing its importance.

I have found no shortage of self-esteem, not to say they are snobs, but they know what they know. Their vocation provides a necessary commodity to communities all across the nation. They are knowledgeable on their product and well-versed in presenting it before a camera crew.  

Being a person that is comfortable as a wall flower, I’m impressed at the ability of others  to speak before a nationwide audience. One doesn’t need an education to do that. What is needed is confidence of the on-the-job training they were privy to.

Education is a hot topic these days. I don’t wish to get into a debate. There is nothing wrong with having a college degree, some jobs require it. But according to www.insidehighered.com, we may give consideration to these stats. Forty-one percent of college graduates are unemployed in their study line, of that, 33.8 percent are underemployed; meaning the grads are working at jobs that don’t require higher learning.

College is not for everyone, and there is a place for everyone in our society. They too, provide an important asset to how we live. Just as important as doctors and teachers to name a few. You may come home filthy dirty or bone tired, as well as the satisfaction of a job well-done.

Putting TV and education aside, how does your reality of life rate? If it is failing you, there is help and hope to be had. I know this guy, Jesus is his name, empowerment is his game.  Upon request, he will add a dimension to life you may have never experienced before. He more than loves you and has a task custom made you…along with his help I might add. The two of you together will make an amazing team and the self-worth and satisfaction goes sky high.

Remembering Important Things

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 © jb katke

Saturday morning proved my point. Truth does not lie.

My husband, Dave, doesn’t understand my thinking spots. I have been richly blessed with two. My bed, which keeps me from sleeping, and the shower.

The day started when the alarm rang, I could not get the thing turned off. As it fell to the floor I realized the remote control does not work for the alarm. Startled, I leapt out of bed realizing the sewing repair to our sun protector for the car had gone undone. The summer heat has made it essential to keeping the car cool.

Questions ran through my mind. Can I get it done before we leave the house? Should I eat breakfast before or after the repair? Is there time for any of this?

Then I woke up. We aren’t going to church; we are going out for breakfast. With church friends, hence my confusion. Today is Saturday, not Sunday. I don’t need to eat.

Jumping into the shower, shampooing reminded me I had not responded to the message my hairdresser sent me. She arrived at work late Friday, overlooking my appointment. No problem, it wasn’t until this week anyway.

Double checking that fact, it came to my attention I had never entered the appointment in my calendar. If I only had a brain.

I can remember things. Like the day I purchased these shoes. We had traveled to visit our daughter Cindy, and her family. Us girls took a shopping trip where I encountered these cute shoes. On sale for $4. Deliberation set in. Do I need them? They are sooo comfortable.

Incredulous that I would hesitate, Cindy piped up, “If you don’t buy them, I will!” This at a time when she barely had two nickels to rub together. As you can see, I bought them.

What I don’t recall is how long ago that was. But it has been years, and I relive that shopping trip today as I am about to pitch the shoes. They wore out.

It makes me sad but Dave is in awe of my memory. In marriage, it never hurts to be in awe of your spouse. Respect and admiration in each other is a healthy thing.

The Good Lord gave us a mind to use in memory and discerning.

It is important to remember that none of our circumstances are a surprise to God. It is a mystery how the human mind works, but always remember that he is in charge. It builds that aforementioned awe, respect and admiration.

Near Surrender to Fred

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© jb katke

There comes a time when ya gotta give up. We named him Fred.

This spring we have had the annoyance of a cowbird seeing it’s reflection in our window. Fred demands mating with it and will not take no for an answer. He ignores his female counterpart at the feeder.

The screens came down to protect them from damage. Fred now has free access to perching on our window sill with frequent body slams trying to get at its reflection. One would think he would get the hint or knock himself silly.

Covering the window with aluminum foil, we thought the shiny surface would deter it him becoming a nuisance. No such luck. Swapping the aluminum foil with cardboard was considered, but talked ourselves out of it. To be effective, it should be placed outside the window where the spring rains would make a mess of it.

Either way, our vision outdoors was blocked. What really angers me is Fred is keeping the humming birds away. I have worked hard at drawing them, all to no avail now.

Anger is putting it nicely; I want to kill him. Wouldn’t you know, Jesus had something to say about a birds.

Not even a sparrow, worth only half a penny, can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. (Matthew 10:29 NLT)

I bet that applies to cowbirds too, so murder is out of the question. That blasted bird is holding us captive.  On our pleasant days we have been unable to open windows for the lack of screens.

Dave has done a little research and learned a further reason to hate Fred. Cowbirds lays eggs in other bird’s nest. If the home-owning bird returns home to find foreign eggs, it kicks them out. The next time it leaves the nest, that ornery cowbird kicks out the homeowners eggs. Talk about squatters taking over, I have nothing nice to say about him.

In the past, I have wished to learn the various bird calls to know who is ‘singing.’ I have learned the cowbird; he is still lurking about. Any ounce of Christianity I have is quickly evaporating.

Until I continued to read what Jesus has to say about people v birds.

So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to him than a whole flock of sparrows.            (Matthew 10:31)

Clearly Fred knows enough scripture to not fear the evil intent of my heart. As a last resort, we have placed a wood owl wall-hanging Dave made in our window. Fred seems to be keeping his distance now.

Perhaps I should be content that the good Lord values me above a bird, regardless of my heart. It almost makes me want to surrender my anger to play nice to this creature God created. After all, it is people that God created to be his own image, not some birdbrain.

Seriously?

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Churchill HS marching band

My anger was over the top. It seems I’m not over the confrontation yet.

To give you a little background, a lifetime ago I was a marching band mom. My son, Jamie, played the trumpet though high school and beyond. He enjoyed it and so did his father and I.

Let me hasten to add, it was hard work. Every week of the football season meant a few new songs to learn and new formations to perform at the games. This, on top of all the demands from other classes.

Life has a way of changing everything. By the time our youngest, Naomi, hit high school, we had a job transfer and new schools to acclimate to. Naomi opted to become a member of the flag girls that performed routines alongside the band.

Each week the band played the same song. I couldn’t understand why. If you watched one performance, you’ve seen them all.

In asking the band teacher about this he explained, “The students couldn’t possibly be able to learn a new song in every week.”

This is when I became livid with anger. Standing before me was a picture of what separates good teachers from bad.

“Yes they can! These kids aren’t learning anything doing the same routine week after week. They need the challenge and the opportunity to expand their repertoire. Playing the same musical number repeatedly is a recipe for boredom. Not to mention zero desire to discover if they have a music preference.”

Fortunately the flag girls did their own music numbers offering various costumes with different flag formations. At least they weren’t bored to tears!

Olathe South HS flag corp

My take away was this: The mindset of the band teacher revealed was he was tired of teaching and was merely putting in his time until retirement. Mentally done, he no longer cared to instill a love for music to his pupils.

Everyone has something to offer, instilling what we love into others should never grow old.

Sometimes Jesus gives me opportunities to grow that I may not like. But it’s something he knows I can master with his help, and usually holds a future benefit. He never tires, becomes stagnant, or limited in love. It never ends.

 

 

 

My One Word

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Relinquish
© jb katke

 

Never would I have imagined it so life changing.

My One Word is an alternative to a New Year’s resolution.  It’s a Bible Study, but only sort of. You begin by asking Jesus for a single word that would focus on a lasting change for your life.  Search the Bible for verses that allude to that word and what he wants you learn from it. What makes it so doable is, it’s just one word/one change.

January has begun, but it’s not too late for you to dive in.

The word that surfaced for me was ‘relinquish.’ I had considered other words, ‘submit’ and ‘surrender.’ But they didn’t lead me to where Jesus was having me focus.  Submit was something I already do with my husband.  Surrender, to me, means giving up.  Relinquish, on the other hand, means to willfully release.

That is an ongoing process in my life.

Over time it’s taken on differing forms. My first wrestling match was selling my brass bed.  We were down-sizing.  I was the only one who liked it and my family couldn’t understand why I loved it so much.  At the time I couldn’t put words to it, but I can now. That dumb bed was one of the few things in our home that reflected my decorating taste. Tears flowed.

Sometime later I had cataract surgery. I was convinced I’d end up blind. Relinquishing sight, when you are a quilter and supposedly writing a God-ordained book, this just cannot be. Fear reigned. Needlessly. Isn’t that true of so many of our fears? They never come to be.

Selling my grandmother’s enamel kitchen table was another opportunity to relinquish.  As a child, my memories recalled me sitting on a step stool eating her raisin bread, picking out the raisins, eating the frosting on top and leaving the bread.  Yes, I was chastised. But it did no good.

We sold it to a young family that was thrilled to get it. Their home is all vintage thirties, all they were missing was an enamel table. It continues to be cherished, but not at my house.

I come from a family of savers.  When my dad was moving he divided up his collection of dried up paintbrushes between my husband and brother. Our allotment helped fill the trash bin.

Generations before me collected a vast amount of possibly useful things. Upon going through my aunt’s estate after her death, we came across an envelope.  Written on it was, ‘For poverty living.’ Inside it was a large needle and a six-inch string. One can expect that thinking when you have survived a depression.

Moving their stuff out of my way was forever driving me nuts.  Keep in mind, they had all passed away. This was only perpetuating the pack-rat lifestyle I hated.

This is my history. Mental battles run rampant as I dispose of what my ancestors diligently spent their lifetime saving.  Just in case.  My daughter is helping me let go, I mean relinquish.

But to dispose of something……what if sometime down the road I might need it?

I keep reminding myself none of it will be coming with me to my eternal home. By then, there will be no need!