A Basket Case

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© jb katke

Some may call me a basket case; that’s okay, I’ve been called worse.

Out of the bunch, I think only two have been purchased. The rest were either given to me or I inherited. It makes no difference; I love them all.

In a previous life I made one. I learned enough that I won’t be doing that again. It takes work, space and skill. Another rightfully belongs to my daughter, Naomi. She made it at a long-ago summer camp. To date, she has not been bitten by the basket bug to make any more.

They may have been useful in their day. Apparently the day is over.

Baskets are not all I inherited. My hutch residing in the dining room is chock full of dishes and tea cups that I never asked for. On Facebook I have noted that a china hutch is no longer desirable. That day is over too.

Every once in a while someone will repost that notice that I have quit reading. There was more to the list of undesirables that I house as well.  What does a person do that has all these reminders of family members that moved to their eternal home?

Some things I use today fondly recalling my Grandma Andrews standing at her kitchen table busy at work with her enamel mixing bowl. Or drying dishes with my mothers antiquated dish towels that are not nearly as useful as the new ones available today. Thinking of these two women and their ‘tools’ of the trade bring me joy.

It has been said, ‘You can’t take it with you.’ How I wish some of the stuff could have gone with them!

All that being said, I learned my granddaughter, Willow, loves antiques. It thrills the very cockles of my heart that I might be able to dump some of my junk on her! I mean give it to her if she has interest.

A few years ago, we went antiquing together with her Boo when I learned of her love for vintage. Going through the store, I thought, “Good grief girl, you could shop at my house free of charge!”

I since then have given it more thought; she may be more into the Mid-century modern. At some point I’m going to have to inform her that’s not antique. It may be old and trending, but it was ugly then and ugly now.

Oops! An opinion just slipped out. I will have to administer grace to all Mid-century lovers, just as you will have to extend grace that my home looks like that of an old woman.

There is nothing wrong with making your home a place of joy as long as we keep in mind this place is not our eternal home.

I’m betting if we can dump the junk in preparation for that final move; family will be most grateful.

Jamaica 2003

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Twenty years ago, my husband Dave, and I, went on a short-term mission trip to Jamaica. Sometimes we used vacation time to be a meaningful experience.

While many go to the tropical countries for rest and relaxation, living there is not easy. We had ourselves a cultural experience. The trip was to help make life better for a family. Not all the nationals have a place to call home; those having land may not have a dwelling. Their property is generally not as big as an American front yard. The land is chock full of beautiful plants, but also hard, full of hills and rocks.

In the midst of our trip, a weekend break was provided to recoup from the arduous construction. Our missionary sponsor took us to the Poor House. Not the kind of poor house Americans often find themselves in.

Our fellow workers joined us in  boarding a school bus, traveling more winding curves than I care to count. The single lane roads leading us were mountainous; sporting only an occasional lane wide enough for an oncoming vehicle to pass. The curves that had no rails to protect from falling over. It was a spiritual experience as we prayed no harm would come to us.

The Poor House is a nursing home of sorts, housing individuals that families were not equipped to care for. A large variety of health concerns lived in their walls. Arriving at our remote destination we were met by a huge young man wandering the yard, lacking a full mind. He was wearing the only garment that could be found to cover him, a pink dress.

Encouraged to meet the residents, two of them sit foremost in my mind. A nameless gentleman wheelchair bound. Afflicted with leprosy—having lost this toes he could no longer walk. He was a learned man living with his lot in life. The Good Book tells us such people were outcasts, feared that the affliction was contagious.

Another resident we learned was Miss Pearl. Bedridden due to a gun accident by her husband. Bed sores are sure to come if they had not already begun. She too, lived her lot in life; praising Jesus in the process.

I had much to glean from these people up in the mountains of a country not mine. That saying from back in the 70’s comes to mind. ‘Bloom where you are planted.’

Bookworm Days

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© jb katke
© jb katke

Books? Why yes, I have tonnage of them. Stacks everywhere. Thank you for asking.

I even wrote one. Thinking one and done. Those who know me well, know I never imagined myself a writer, much less an author. But here I am, embarking on book two.

Why do I do this to myself; or you? As I entered this world of writing, I learned quite a few things. A writer needs to write something that piques the interest of readers, making them want to read your words. But not everyone is a reader.

What do you enjoy reading? While I do want to know, it’s only fair to tell you what this second book of mine holds. Encouragement. At least that is what I’m aiming for. We all can use a dose of that once in a while, right?

Among the many things that have enlightened my mind recently is having something worth sharing. I’m hoping ‘hope’ is it. Okay, that’s two things I wish to share, encouragement and hope.

A friend of mine is currently writing up a storm, but not necessarily for publication yet. She is focused on writing prayers for our nation. I consider that a needed and worthy cause. Another friend writes amazing poems, again not intended for publication. But I’m telling you the world needs to hear her words. They come straight from the heart and impact as no other can.

The thing is we all are impacted by something. Whether it’s an injustice or a fellow shopper letting you go ahead of them in the checkout line. People not being what you thought they were can leave a sour taste in the mouth unless eyes are opened to goodness.

It’s there, but it might require digging around to find it.

For example. I’m not one to journal my thoughts. Those that do, encourage us non-journalers to start. Mine began as an assignment for one month to note daily something I was grateful for. It was an eyeopener.

Sometimes I wrote of things I was glad to have accomplished, other days consisted of words that ran along the line of ‘glad this day is over!’  We all have an occasional day like that. I now realize each sunrise can be a fresh start.

I wish I could rise early enough to watch the sunrise. It can be a beautiful way to start the day, reminding me of who is in charge. It’s not me. Not to mention the early start to getting my to-do’s done!

Keeping in mind that above requisite for a writer to have something worth sharing. I will pass on a tidbit that might be of interest to you. When starting my day, I have asked Jesus to give me the desire and energy to accomplish what he deems important. So far, it’s working!

Seeing The Light

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© jb katke

Ya know how you know something, but put it off? You know some things will have to change. But not now; you’re too busy, its takes too much time, or it will have to be when you are free of distractions. A good excuse is one you can use over and over again.

As if this tidbit of knowledge were a deck of cards, you shuffle it, push it down to your never-ending list of things to do, hoping it will fall to the bottom.

Grandma Andrews called it, “reading the writing on the wall.” It is more than seeing the light, it’s acknowledging the light.

For me it’s this writing thing I have going on. My modus operandi of blogging is to speak truth to you. It could come from any direction; experience, humor, or having witnessed. As long as it is real, it’s good enough to share.

This time it was reading the Good Book. A group of people followed Jesus wherever he went, the guy just drew people. Crowds gathered either by word-of-mouth rumors or actually witnessed what he did. He was a miracle-worker and his words were the likes of worthwhile quotes.

The story goes that the day was growing late and Jesus instructed his closest friends to give these folks something to eat. It was time for them to return home, but lived a far distance. They would never make the trip on an empty stomach.

“And just how are we supposed to do that, out here in the middle of nowhere?” was the question.

From seemingly little, Jesus saved the day. He always does. His friends should have been able to see the handwriting on the wall. Jesus’ daily miracles became ordinaries; they completely missed his point.

We know what ordinary looks like. It’s a constant stream of routine; we can easily cease to acknowledge what is right under our nose. A blindness of the obvious, not seeing the light. Not realizing the time is now to be open to change.

Opportunities come camouflaged in seemingly impossible situations. Like the above story of feeding the masses. FYI, I said story, but it’s a true one.

 You may share my question. How can my life be an encouragement to others? I’m only one person; a nobody to most everyone.  Who is gonna listen? But…to Jesus, I am somebody and so are you.

He too lived a life on earth as only one person. Yet Jesus gave hope, he healed, he befriended, he taught, he lead by example, he died, and he rose to life again, just so that we could maintain a relationship with him forever. Now as well as later.

Hopeless situations become Jesus opportunities. The difference is him. The impossible is his specialty. But he wants us to see it, to experience it; to be part of the delivery. It’s crucial that the world becomes aware of his miracles right now.   

Read it for yourself, it’s in Mark 8:1-10. Don’t take my word, take Jesus’. (He is even referred to as the light of the world.)  See the handwriting on the wall and know that Jesus changes this, whatever your ‘this’ is. And be thankful for it!

Let Freedom Ring!

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© jb katke

Today we celebrate the Fourth of July.  Do you have a fun day planned?

Recently we had some family visiting; which is always a joy. But for the most part I spend my days doing ordinary things. Today may not look much different to the naked eye. Hardly thrill-seeking stuff.

When you have received so much that requires upkeep, I encourage you to feel fortunate. Not everyone has a home with a full pantry, a laundry room and a working vacuum.

Listening to news reports of the unrest worldwide can be a downer. If you feel as though we are losing freedom; that the rules of law seem to change daily. I will share what I recently read. We have the following freedoms:

To express love.

To feel at peace.

To practice patience.

To show kindness.

To live out goodness.

To exercise faithfulness.

To be gentle with others.

To demonstrate self-control.

I cannot take the credit for this list, it can be found in our Good Book; in Galatians 5:22,23. Taking it one step further, the book reads that these freedoms are just that, free. There is no law against any of them. Imagine!

The problem is not everyone is lovely, at peace, kind, good, or gentle. It’s a challenge to be patient with those who don’t trust you and have zero self-control. Welcome to Jesus’ world. Yet the above is exactly what he is doing with me, and possibly you too.

No where will you find that life on planet earth is easy. The world we live in only makes us hungry for a better life. No problem there, right?

To attempt even one of these freedoms is a challenge worth taking. We may never know what someone else is going through. I think it was an Indian that said walking a mile in his moccasins can change our perspective.

I’m thinking it would be hard to not reciprocate the kindness or goodness lavished on me. Someone once said smiling is contagious, we automatically smile back when even a stranger lays one on us. And hugs don’t cost a cent, yet can warm even the hardest heart.

But it doesn’t stop here. The Good Book says in trying to follow these freedoms, we will be blessed ourselves. Who among us couldn’t use a little heavenly perk?

Have a Happy, safe and maybe a challenging fourth of July!

A Funny

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Dave: Did you notice that right after you got gas for the car the garage smelled like a gas station?

Me: Yes I did, and it makes me want to leave the car outside for a while so the odor will fade.

Dave: There is no need for that, it doesn’t do any harm.

Me: Maybe not, but it makes me hesitant to light up a cigarette in there.

Dave: That shouldn’t be a problem because of the ‘No smoking’ sign I have up.

The funny thing; neither of us smoke.

Do you and your significant other ever have meaningless conversations? Or maybe a humorous thing happened in your day that was out of your control?

Just as this picture I’m sharing with you today. We don’t have an airplane or a hangar to put one in if we did. Our sign serves no other purpose than it brings fond memories of when Dave was in the military, working on aircraft.

That is what humorous moments do; they provide fond memories of light-heartedness. We all need those from time to time.

Even Jesus. Would you believe he has a sense of humor? My life is a witness that he does. In my book, One Day Wonders, Ordinary Days Becoming Extraordinary I share several instances.

One of my favorites is a past declaration that I would never live in an inconvenient to-get to home. Like the one I now reside in. Returning home, I must pass home to get to the street to turn in. That street takes me to the street where my house sits, hence, another turn. It’s a trivial first world issue.

Another down side is the fact we are a cookie cutter neighborhood. Never a good idea if you have young children trying to find their way home when they all look alike. Not that we have that issue, we are a community of senior citizens. My point is, it’s not good for us either; we carry some age behind us and can get turned around just trying to take a walk for exercise!

You see, humor is everywhere. All we have to do is look around us. I would love to hear from you on your funny moments. Please make it clean. I probably would not understand anything suggestive and would hate to have to ask Dave for an explanation. He was in the Navy so he knows things that are better left unsaid.

That may sound like a shot at the Navy, but not so, I’ve never been in the Army. See what I mean?

A Time Like This

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© jb katke

As my friend Jon would say, “What a woman!”

Only she wasn’t yet; possibly just a preteen.

Recently we joined family in Branson, Missouri attending the live production of Esther in the Sight and Sound Theater. The town offers more things to do and places to see than I can list; I will focus on Esther.

There are many ways we could identify with her. Hold that thought.

In her youth, Esther was an orphan, taken in by a cousin. She was well cared for, but what jumped out at me was her upbringing prior to being orphaned. At a young age, she was taught to depend upon her Creator.

Only the proverbial rug was pulled out from under her. The rules of the land hit home. It was back in the day of women having no say in their future that she was forced to enter into a beauty contest. I’m trying not to spoil this true story that sounds unbelievable.

Given six months to prepare for the winning, I envision every Mary Kay and Avon lady entering the scene selling their products. Likewise with the jewelers hoping to make a profit at beaty enhancement. Dieticians may have been part of the mix, advising which foods will provide the sexiest figure.

Times were changing fast, no thanks to a foolish king and his advisors. Power, jealousy and hatred reigned in the palace, headquarters for how the people of the nation will live. Murder was an undercurrent in those who served the powers that be.

Maybe this story impacted me because of our recent Fathers’ Day. How the teaching from her parents who were no more played out in her circumstances. One line was all it took to make a difference in my life so I will share it with you. It’s not verbatim but as I remember it.

“Perhaps this is why you are here, for such a time as this.”

Young Esther made a difference, not just in her own life but the life of her people, her nation as a whole. She did all she could do. All she could do was have a conversation with her Creator, and if she died, then so be it.

She prayed the prayer that cannot fail. It’s not common knowledge what that prayer is, so I will tell you. Ask that events would be in accordance with the Creators’ will.

I’m here to tell you that takes guts. How many things occur in our lives that we have no control of? Yet to tell the Creator of the Universe that the results will be okay with us?

It takes more than guts. It takes faith and trust in a loving Creator. That can be hard to fathom if the father you know on earth is anything but loving. The Father in heaven is just that and more. He provides in ways beyond comprehension. Just ask Esther.

Don’t take my word. Read all about it in the Good Book.

Oh! One more thing. When you read it, note that no where in her story is the mention of God. Yet he was with her in the middle of her circumstances. Just like he is involved in your life, even if there is no mention of him.

Because of that, you can make a difference in the world around you.

The Best Plan

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© jb katke

Do you ever feel as though you are wandering aimlessly through life? I’ve been there.

It’s important to me that you know where there is breath, there is always hope.

Should you feel like you have no control of things around you, I must agree. But perspective makes all the difference in the world.

In my book, One Day Wonders, Ordinary Days Becoming Extraordinary each page reveals an event in my life where Jesus intervened unbeknownst to me at the time. It was an eye-opener. Never imagining to write; yes even this blog amazes me, my days have become purposeful.

One after the other, experiences came to mind; stories to share from  supposedly a nobody. Who would care? Maybe you.

I snapped this picture while on an outing with family. Watching it for a few minutes, the boat did seem to be drifting aimlessly. Actually, it was a fisherman, moving from one fishing hole to another. Seeking fish that would take the bait.

The day was mild, the water calm. Nothing remarkable going on here. Life can be like that, just going through the status quo of a normal day.

How can we know what lies ahead? 

Upon purchasing our first home, a (not so) mobile home; never imagining we would be selling it nine months after sealing the deal. The draft can do that to newlyweds. Only to find years later, Dave didn’t have to enlist, his draft number never came up.

An employer from my past; after seeing my multiple residences exclaimed, “Good heavens, I’ve hired a gypsy!” Not really, just a wife that follows her Navy husband to his military installations.

We tried hard to get pregnant; I resigned us to be childless. It was then that we realized we would be a family after all.

After purchasing a home (without wheels) we figured living there five years, fixing it up and move upwards to a nicer place. Our planned garage instead became a second child. Improving the curb appeal was replaced by a third child.

Ya just never know what life will put in your path. See what I mean by the uselessness of plans? I hasten to say, we would not trade any of our children for what we imagined life would be.

Its what Jesus had in mind for us all along. His way is always the better way. More years than I care to tell you, I did not include him in my plans.

I know better now. Jesus gives purpose and hope to carry on, even when times get tough. Do not be deceived, just because he takes up residence in a heart, doesn’t mean everything will be lollipops and roses. But beyond a shadow of a doubt, he makes life bearable and way more interesting. 

Nobodies are among his favorite people; itching for you to take his hope bait and see what miracles he can do in and for you.

Dreaming

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© jb katke

Dreams can be a funny thing; mine are downright bizarre.

My man will attest to that after he heard about the one I had being on a game show. Let’s Make a Deal, if memory serves me right. The contestant had to vie for attention through some outlandish costume. All I can recall is having the opportunity to choose Door #1, Door #2, or Door #3. Having made my choice, I discovered I  won seven tons of cat food.

This was before we were married and I only had one cat. Nevertheless, I earned the reputation for crazy dreams.

The one I had last night might rank up there with the cat food.

My son, Jamie, sent me a birthday card. The was the message:

Gu bib,

Hidt qumye yi qudg ti0 u gu[[t n94ygeut.

9 yg9m; iv ti0 cxc4t eut ume q9dg qc p9xce wpidc4 yi6cygc4.

9 /9dd ti0 ume gi[c ti0 jmiq 9 pixc ti0 di /0wg.

Jamie

Gibberish to you? Me too, that’s what woke me up. On the outside, I was sleeping, my dream laughter woke me.

Mothers can read between the lines.  

Jamies’ alleged message said: Hi Mom, Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I think of you every day and wish we lived closer together. I miss you and hope you know I love you so much. Jamie

I’m confident enough of these words to comprehend this is Jamies’ thought. I know my boy.

The hilarious part is it is no where near my birthday. Nor is it close to his; to prompt me of sending a birthday greeting to him.

What brings these thoughts to a sleeping mind? I’ve read of folks back in the Bible times that could interpret dreams. If one of you readers can, never mind interpreting mine, I may not want to know.

Whether your dreams are of a sleep nature or physical vacation plans for the summer, I hope they bring as many smiles and happiness as mine did.

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.