School Children - Lyn Kublick

This class attended school in my home town, Orland California, somewhat before my time. Their teacher was my mother's aunt, May Reager.

As a writer of historical fiction I spend a great deal of time dwelling in the past and I find it interesting to compare life then and now. One area of great change is child rearing methods. As we look at this class picture 8 and 9 year old students, we first notice the difference in the their clothing, and that of the teacher's. Hair styles also catch the eye. Compare this picture to youngsters today that often dress like miniature teenagers.

These physical differences are minor compared to the change in the way children are expected to behave. How would today's kids respond the the old adage, "Children should be seen and not heard"? In many homes, and even in public places, the younger generation tends to claim the center of attention.

Raising children to respect adults is also over looked in some modern homes. In fact, in the worst cases, the youngest members of the family seem to be in control. It's not unusual to hear some of these little people bully their parents by making demands rather than polite requests. Their elders feel the need to buy expensive toys, that they can ill afford, so the children can keep up with others in their play group.

One thing that worries me is the constant need, of this generation, to be excited and entertained. How often do we hear children complain of being bored. Many seem to have lost the ability to enjoy their own company . They expect parents, teachers and youth workers to provide exciting diversions for their benefit. When left on their own many turn to electronic devices to fill their time. What is happening to imagination and creativity

Most important, is enough care given to helping children find Jesus? How can they learn to pray, meditate and listen for God's voice in houses where electronic noise is constant. I visited a home lately and heard the mother say that she keeps the radio on 24/7. The television is constantly on as well, and video games, a DSI and a Wii are available.

I pray that God will bless all of our children and help them to have a desire for Him in their often chaotic lives. Without His presence in their lives they will never know the joy of peace.

Hearing The Word Of God - Bruce Atchison

churches really must make more of an effort to accommodate disabled congregants. Though many houses of worship now have wheelchair ramps and some buildings were designed as single-floor structures, blind and deaf Christians are often left out of the activities.

In my case, I can't read the overhead screen or hymn books easily. This puts me in an awkward position when everybody else is singing. The previous church that I attended graciously provided me large print copies of the songs. For the first time in my life, I was able to sing with the rest of the congregation. I gained a deeper appreciation of the lyrics too.

Thirty-five years ago, I attended a cultic house church. In my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, I tell of how that congregation's elders bought something which benefitted me greatly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"The church just bought something wonderful," Sister E enthused one Wednesday evening before the meeting began. "You'll enjoy this - it's The Bible In Drama." She pulled a large white wooden box out from the book shelf next to the communion table and placed it on the card table. She unfastened the metal clasp on the side, revealing two compartments with two rows of red and maroon cassette boxes in each. "We bought this especially for any blind members of the church and for the children to hear. Look at this. There's the New Testament read by a Shakespearian actor and down there are stories of great Christians."

I stared myopically at where she pointed and said, "That's cool! Can I borrow some? I'm borrowing a cassette recorder from the CNIB."

"Sure. I'll ask Mother first though. They are brand new cassettes, you realize. We don't want them ruined before others can have a listen to them."

"You'll want to hear the New Testament first," Sister R explained when I asked to borrow a few tapes after the meeting.

"How come?" I frowned.

"Because you'll get wrong ideas if you listen to the Old Testament first."

"What do you mean? Can't I hear the tapes from the start?"

"Most of the Old Testament doesn't apply to us because it was written to the Jews. They were under the law but we aren't. The New Testament was written for us Christians. "If you don't hear the New Testament first, you'll be confused and learn the wrong things from the Old Testament."

Since she insisted, I grudgingly took the handful of tapes she proffered.

I fell in love with the series as soon as I arrived home and listened to the first cassette. "Wow! It's like I'm there with Jesus and the disciples," I repeated as I sat on my bed. In a matter of a few weeks, I borrowed every Bible In Drama, King James New Testament, and Lives Of Great Christians tape. The Bible stories were thrilling but the biographies of believers, mostly American, who did great things in Jesus' name seemed jingoistic to me.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

How I Was Razed is my third, and most likely final, memoir. I previously published When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School). They are both available from the InScribe web site, along with information regarding my writing.

A Passion - Let it Go, Dig Deeper or Embrace Another - Karen Toews

There's nothing like being passionate about something - an activity or expression that gives you focus, inspiration and fulfillment. A friend of mine discovered her inner artist in her forties, and from the get-go, her talent was obvious and her passion palpable. Through hard work and education, the appreciation, awards and value for her paintings are increasing. She's having the time of her life - immersed and absorbed in something she loves to do.

Yesterday I toured six gardens in our area of Nova Scotia. The blend of God's creation and these gardeners' visionary design and hard work was splashed across these landscapes - a display of handiwork wrought by zealous commitment.

When my husband was in high school, he knew he wanted to be a carpenter-builder. Almost forty years later, his passion for the process and creativity of construction hasn't diminished.

Observing others enjoy such fervor and satisfaction makes me feel: motivated, intimidated, challenged, negative self-worth about my own shortcomings, angry at circumstances that are somehow to blame for my own lack of focus, or (and I hate to admit it), jealous that I'm not experiencing the same drive and results from a passion of my own.

When I was in my forties I too discovered a passion - running. It actually grabbed me, a fitness activity that I shared with my husband. I loved everything about it: the effort, the physical rewards, the pain, the accomplishments, the camaraderie. I believe that God gives us abilities, and I openly thanked Him for allowing me this personal joy - and the opportunities for coaching others. I used the philosophy of running as a parallel for other avenues in my race of life: learning and teaching nutrition, being an example for an active lifestyle, making and achieving goals, using it as a vehicle for raising funds for missions. I felt I was treating this passion with respect, balancing my expectations with the realities of my physical body.

Four years ago an injury began a journey of redirection. Treatments, exercises, therapists, classes, costly appointments - it's been an on-going quest that I regularly lay down and pick up. Endless analyzing and strategizing is tiring - I question if unlimited funds would be the answer. This pleasure/force that helped define and motivate me is now radically limited, a one-of, on a list of fitness activities for my goal to remain strong for years to come. And I still miss what it was.

Countless hours have been spent praying for direction, crying for help, asking for healing. As time lapses, and hope waxes and wanes, I want to know what to do with this passion - do I let it go, dig deeper, or embrace another? Until I know my answer, I will continue to seek Him....

"...Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened..." Luke 11: 9, 10 (NRSV)

The Blessings of "Early Garage Sale" — Lynda Schultz

Late last night I posted the story of this picture on my website. Alex and Alicia were married last week in Caracas. Circumstances didn't permit my presence at the wedding but that wonderful Sunday afternoon when they came to my apartment to look at the furniture I was planning on leaving behind was proof enough to me of the depth of Alex's feelings for Alicia.

I never doubted how Alicia felt—she was obvious! But Alex is the "strong, silent type," and even a little shy, so I was never quite sure about him and thought that perhaps Alicia was just being her dramatic self when she overwhelmed me with adjectives even time she talked about him.

My furniture was well-used. I have always jokingly said that my decorating style is "early garage sale." Neither Alicia nor Alex had a lot of money to spend but they both work and had been saving for this moment for a long time.

Alicia comes from a very dysfunctional family. Her mother always made a huge effort to degrade her daughter in private and in public. In spite of her difficult ealy years Alicia blossomed, particularly after meeting Alex. That Sunday afternoon showed me why.

The "kids" were renovating an annex for their first home and needed just about everything. She was reluctant to get too excited about the washer and dryer, the dining room set, the bed, the crystal, and the Royal Minton china I was leaving behind. Some things were essential; others were not. She and Alex had talked about the washer and as Alicia ran her hand over it, she looked a little longingly at the dryer. Alex saw the look and told me that he'd take that too. Alicia couldn't believe it. The whole afternoon was like that. She'd look at something, half afraid to want it because maybe they didn't need it, and Alex would tell her to add it to the list. By the time the "shopping" trip was over, their house was furnished and Alicia was in tears.

She could not believe that anyone, even Alex, would be so good to her. The scars of her past experience forbade her to trust that someone saw her worth and valued her enough to give her whatever would pleasure her—even if it was second-hand!

As God's children we are often a bit "Alicia" in our relationship with God. We are afraid to ask Him for certain things because we fear the rejection that we have sometimes been handed by others. We can't believe that God values us enough to bring into our lives whatever good thing will give us pleasure. Alex loved satisfying the desires of his wife-to-be. He didn't give Alicia everything she eyed, but he certainly gave her more than she had thought to ask for. And I suspect that as these two become more established in their lives, Alex will be just as delighted to pleasure his wife with a few new things to replace my "early garage sale."

To my great surprise, it isn't only Alicia who is overwhelming cyberspace with adjectives about her new husband from their hotel room on Margarita Island. Alex's FACEBOOK posts are almost as descriptive about how much he loves her as hers are descriptive about him. Isn't love wonderful! Is God wonderful!