What If

What if it's wrong (translation: against God's law) to clap hands, raise arms, sing with instruments, have a kitchen in the church building or let a woman teach classes or lead a prayer? What if it's wrong to support orphan's homes or the Herald of Truth? What if it's wrong to use more than one cup for the communion, or to sing during communion, or to practice open communion, or to use wine at the communion table, or to let women serve communion....?

I have heard all of these "what ifs" in my lifetime, and frankly, I am tired of what ifs. As you can see, many of them deal with worship which is probably the least detailed command in the Bible. As folks in my fellowship have tried to fill in the blanks so that our worship is perfect according to God's will, we have trumped common sense with all our "what ifs" and have almost succeeded in sucking worship dry of its heart and joy.

I can't see those early Christians in Acts saying "What if... Instead they "devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to everyone as he had need. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people." Acts 2:42-47.

If Only

If only I had more money, I would give more to "Made in the Streets", the Wayne Reed Center or the Jellico Mission or the water well project....

During the summer (which seemed to stretch endlessly at first) a friend and I would sit on the front porch and draw elaborate houses for which we yearned. At that time, my house did not have indoor plumbing--it was wreck of a house my folk had moved in from the country. My dad was a carpenter and had the skills to remake it. We dreamed "if only"....

At other times when I have seen beautiful old plantation homes full of antiques, I have wished to have been born into a family with such an inheritance and have enjoyed the "what ifs" of such a circumstance.

But the truth is, we were an ordinary family of the '50's struggling to get by in an old house with cheap furnishings and home-made clothes. However, we always had a bed, clothes and food to eat, and the opportunity for an education--unlike the street children of Kenya.

As I see the photos of the homeless Kenyan kids, I wish I could do more--If only I had been born to wealth...However, as I read the story of the widow's mite in Luke 21:1-4, I give with joy what I can give and dispense with the "if onlys".

"If only...."

"If only" and its companion in crime "what if" are the two most useless phrases in the English language. They are surrounded by and imprisoned by fear and inaction.

They suck the life out of history-making decisions. They delay lives and founder in depression. These cowardly phrases bring the demise of dreams and churches, of theories and ideas, of marriages and economics.

Jesus and Paul , as far as we know, were never men to say "If only I had...." Yes, Paul regretted his early life of perscuting Christ and His followers, but he did not use these regrets as a basis for folding up his tent and sitting out the rest of his life. Jesus strode into risky situations with authority and fervor. True, unpopularity with the religious leaders brought about his death. But none of the gospels record his saying, "What if I apologize...." In the garden he did ask for the removal of "the cup" that faced him, but he gave his heart to God's will even there.

Often as I have gathered with Christians and church leaders, I hear, "what ifs" and "if onlys": "If only the economy were better.... " "What if (a wealthy donor) leaves when we do this?" By the way, I have never heard this at Otter Creek! I have heard some Christians say, "If only I were wealthy, I would be able to give more." "What if I do this or that.... I may lose my salvation."

More later....from a person who does not believe in what ifs and if onlys.

This and That

It has been a busy weekend--here are some of the things I want to remember:

Maddie graduated from kindergarten on Friday--how did those five years pass so fast? Now instead of being our baby, she is almost seven years old and her legs are growing long, her mind is expanding, her beauty is growing. I love watching Maddie think--one can almost see the wheels turning in her head as she analyzes and begins to pose a question. Maddie is our thinker and organizer...she likes to have everything laid out and secure. Talented in music, art and mature in her childish judgements, I look forward to seeing her develop and grow even more.

On Saturday, I went with the Later Day Saints to Smyrna and Murfreesboro to tour the Sam Davis house and to see the Stones River Battlefield. Davis was quite a hero and his home has been restored in Smyrna very nicely. Our guide was intelligent and fun (there have been times on a tour when I knew more than the guide). The battlefield was very well-done as well. Instead of a boat-load of information from one guide, actors performed small vignettes of what occured the day before and the day of the battle. The book store there is one of the best Civil War bookstores I have seen so far. Unlike others, they stock children's books about the Civil War as well as adult histories. Books like April Morning....

I also managed to work in a viewing of the new Indiana Jones movie--loved it!!! Harrison Ford ages well. Of course the special effects are spectular and that iconic John Williams melody !!!

Why do Bad Things Happen to Good People?

This is a classic question which might have been asked about Job or the Christian martyrs. Today I am asking that about the terrible accident with Stephen Curtis Chapman's children. One of his teen-age children ran over his youngest (age 5) and killed her last night. She was one of the three children he and his wife had adopted in China. So sad... I have not gotten a satisfactory answer to the question--guess that will just have to wait.

My favorite story about just such a happening: A famous minister stood grieving over the casket of his only son and child. He wife asks, "Where is God now?" He answers, "He is standing here crying with us." I am sure that is so true considering all the promises of God's faithfulness.

Strong believers are not immune to grieving: Joseph wept at least seven times, David, 7 times, Paul 4 times. Jeremish compared his weeping to a fountain and a river of tears--Jer. 9:1; Lam. 3:48. The Psalmist wept until he drenched his couch and made his "bed swim." Psalm 6:6 Even Jesus wept over a doomed city, a friend's death and his painful sacrifice. Luke 19:41, John 11:33-35, Hebrews 5:7. However, the last mention of tears in the Bible is the promise that God shall wipe all of them away from the eyes of his redeemed. Rev. 21:4.

Landmarks

I am not sure what the derivation of "landmark" is, but I am taking it to mean important happenings in life. We have two for Maddie this week.

Yesterday, we attended Maddie's first piano recital. I say "first" because I hope there will be many more. She was very poised and played well. She seemed so Big!
It was good to hear her teacher say that Maddie has a musical gift, because I have long thought that. (I hope her teacher doesn't say that to everyone). I have a wonderful picture of Maddie enjoying the piano when she was only two years old. She has had the ability to pick out tunes by ear for a long time(which I think is a gift too). It was a shock when her parents heard the piano one morning and Maddie was playing a hymn they had sung the day before. At this point, Maddie doesn't complain about practice and seems to enjoy learning theory--it's a lot like math. Theory is something I never learned, and math is not one of my best subjects. It is a thrill to see your children or grandchildren excell in things that either you did not, or that you never had the opportunity to do.

On Friday we go to Kindergarten graduation for Maddie. Wow! Time passes too fast.

Otter Ladies' Fellowship Brunch

We were treated today to a lovely, well-planned brunch featuring tables decorated by some of the more creative women in our midst:

There were two tables devoted to a day at the beach; a patriotic red, white and blue table; one set with grandmother's china and looking very tea-partyish. Two of the more creative ones were these: one devoted to Paris (beautifully done by Amy Westerman--is there anything that woman cannot do?). It had a beautiful model of the Eiffel Tower in the center--Ruby red plates and glasses, and other momentoes about Paris. (Amy is from Paris, TN!). The other table done by Melissa Portell and her sister Melani was modeled after our Ms. Cheap column in the Tennessean. Left-over paper plates were used (You know--those special occasions when you buy paper plates and there are always two left over) , left-over holiday and birthday napkins sat by the plates; clipped coupons were all over the table, place mats were the colored grocery store ads from the newspaper. So imaginative.

The elders dressed in white shirts and black pants with towels over their arms served as waiters and part of the entertainment. Wonderful chicken salad, fruit salad and tea breads were eaten--and we all enjoyed ourselves so much! Thanks to all who planned, served and shared their gifts!

RIF

Fortunate is the child who has parents who care enough about literacy to provide him/her with books, a book shelf, and a good reading lamp. We all know, however, that not all parents do that. Many can't afford it; many don't care.

Just heard that the federal government is cutting the funding for the Reading is Fundamental (RIF) program--we can afford weapons to kill people, but we cannot afford books to educate children. RIF gives 4.5 million children 16 million books a year to take home and keep. The federal govt. pays 75% of the cost, and the program depends on local entities like PTO's, Lions' Clubs, etc. to pick up the rest of the tab.

It is a joy to stand in a room and watch children pick out a book to take home and to tell them that they can keep the book forever. For some, it will be the only book they own. Although the books are paperback and won't last very long with use, they are nevertheless treasured.

Write your congressman, senator and ask that funding for RIF be continued .

The Pain of the World

For the past few days, we have been watching the pain of the world again because of natural disasters. Tears, faces contorted in pain, mothers crying for their children, children searching for their mothers, classmates pulling other classmates from under debris, the ruthless military junta refusing their own people food and help--and the world, including the U. S.. rushes to help--Thank God.

Perhaps if the television cameras showed the faces of the Afghan and Iraqui children more often in those scenes of bombings, or the faces of mothers crying and fathers weeping, this terrible war we have would be over sooner--O, God
hear our cries, see our tears, give us hope and your peace.

Amen

From Generation to Generation

In writing about the legacy I have from mothers and grandmothers yesterday, I failed to give God the credit for what He did down through the years in my family. Nor did I intend to intimate that my faith is exactly like theirs. The fellowship I am a part of has changed in many ways since Lucy Lantrip took that step into the Stone-Campbell movement. I realize that my roots have carried me far beyond themselves and have grown me into a tree my ancestors would not recognize: a spiritual tree anchored with my ancestors' protective, nourishing roots, but a tree supported by longer roots in new ground.

This passing the knowledge of God and the love of Christ from generation to generation was dictated by God over and over in the Bible. As I teach my seminar on Spiritual Autobiography, I hand out a three-page rendering of eighteen scriptures (and I am sure there are more) on the topic. The theme of the scriptures is REMEMBER and TELL. For example: Joel l:3 "Tell it to y our children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation." Simply taking them to Sunday School will not do it--we must talk to them as Deut. 6: 6-9 says: "These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up."

I cannot guarantee that their beliefs will always duplicate yours--change and growth happen. However, if the process does not begin with you, where will it begin? And there is certainly truth to the adage that children can teach us more than we teach them sometimes. I was talking with my grandchildren last week about the role of cheerleaders for a team, and said that they help us to have spirit for our team. Ella, who is our resident theologian, said, "But Nonnie, the spirit comes from God." I was thirty years old before I even heard a statement or a sermon like that.

Resolve to "...perpetuate (God's) memory through all generations...." Psalm 45:17.

The Legacy

In the mid-1800's, Lucy Lantrip left her Baptist roots and became a member of the new emerging church--The Church of Christ formed by a declaration that unity of all Christians is possible and the source of unity is to follow the Bible and only the Bible in life and religion.

Lucy later converted her daughter Mary and son-in-law Will Herndon and thus began a movement in my family which still continues in my life in 2008. Although the church is no longer "emerging" and has along the way kind of lost its emphasis on unity, it is still the basis for my religious upbringing through my grandmother Lizzie Belle Herndon Tucker and my mother Hazel Pauline Tucker Brandon.

As I sat in church this morning, I was thanking Lucy and others like her to whom following God was more important than family, traditions, and roots. I was thankful that my grandmother never forsook her membership during the long days after her father disinherited her for marrying "a neer-do-well." And that my mother continued to follow God even though her husband did not share her enthusiasm for the church (because he considered himself a once-saved-always-saved Primitive Baptist). And I am thankful that my husband Sam did the same thing Lucy did--forsook the Baptist church in his senior year in high school to become a member of the church and never looked back.

Mothers have a way of influencing future generations, and I am so thankful. I only pray that I have done the same thing for my son and his children. That will be my most important legacy.

Ministry in the Church

After a conversation with a new acquaintance at Pepperdine, I have been thinking about our view of ministry. In many churches, we are still looking at ministry with the eyes of the 50's:
Missions, Outreach, Education, and maybe, just maybe Social Services like serving the homeless, the poor, etc.

The woman I mentioned and I had a conversation about more focused ministries at home: how about a ministry to widows and single mothers--women who need help coping with cars, small repairs at home, snatching a little time away from the children for themselves, etc. I think James had something say about ministry to widows, but I have seldom seen one--especially when I needed some advice about my car, or my lawn, or someone to climb a tall ladder to put a battery in the fire alarm. I know single mothers would benefit from helping hands as they try to be both father and mother, breadwinner, and handy man.

How about a ministry of encouragement?--This has been one of my soapboxes for a long time--we just do not encourage each other enough. What does a pat on the back, an encouraging card, a phone call cost? The card may cost 43 cents, but the others nothing. Why, why do we not
take time out of our IMPORTANT lives to do these small things? I don't know. Highland in Abilene has a ministry in which women come to the building every few days and spend a couple of hours calling the shut-ins and those who find themselves unable to participate in the community of the saints for one reason or another. I know that time has brightened many a face.
But I also know, I have not heard of a similar ministry anywhere. Back in the days of visitation, our small group at Minter Lane in Abilene would often take a Sunday night to write personal notes to visitors, enclosing our personal phone numbers for any needs. At Highland and at Otter, we do have encouragement cards in the pews, but I seldom if ever see any in the plate as it is passed. In my three years at Otter, I have been the grateful recipient of four cards. And we often just allow people to slip through the cracks, losing spirit and failing to attend services, without so much as a phone call or card. Shame on us! How often do you stop the teacher who just taught your Sunday or Wednesday class and tell them how much you got out of it and appreciate the 3-4 hours they spend in preparation? Or the teachers of your children---certainly unsung heroes! We know how to complain; but we need lessons in encouragement. Oh well, I could go on and on.

Hello, California

I've been back for a few days from the Pepperdine Lectures and I've been mulling over the experiences there.

First off, God the Creator, let the cup run over when he created California--Malibu in particular. With the ocean, the overwhelming flowers, the clear blue sky and perfect spring days, I was awash in thankfulness for the beauty I was seeing. The bouganvillas--Wow! The rolling ocean--Wow! And the sparkling day to walk around in were so overtaking, I could hardly digest it all.

Pepperdine's beautiful campus was also breathtaking--My arthritic body could have done with less stairs, but because it is built on a rolling hill, they are necessary.
California is another state of mind--how do the students concentrate when the ocean beckons them to lie on the beach or surf? Lauren Gingles and I decided that when we win the lottery ( of course, we would have to play to win) we will buy a beach house in Malibu and share it with all our friends. The beach houses along the Pacific Coast Highway fascinated me in the way that all one sees while driving is their back doors--some are decorated; some are not. I know that all are very expensive--then there are those palatial mansions studding the hills around Malibu--no words to describe them and the view they must have out their living room windows.

I saw more people from Abilene there than I had seen in my last two visits to Abilene--It was good to see a lot of people from Highland: The Porches, Gina Lewis,Mike Cope and others. Some from ACU: Bill and Sherry Rankin, Randy Harris,
The Halsteads, etc. It was also fun to see Darryl Tippens--I had not seen him since I left ACU 8 years ago. He is grayer and excited about being the grandfather of a Chinese child his son and wife are getting soon. Jack and Jeanine Reese were followng their granddaughter around too. They were received a high honor there--well-deserved. It was also good to meet those who read this blog and to thank them for using their time in that way.

Zoe and Mike packed in the audience as they did their presentation--Good to get a dose of Brandon's worship leading and Sheryl's singing again (Still miss that terribly)and Jeff Walling did a bang-up job one evening at a late-night session. Wonder why late-night sessions at Pepperdine do not seem as late as they do at ACU?
We even went for pie after one session.

And through it all to get to spend lots of time with Brandon and Sheryl and the children was worth all the climbing I did. It was a good time, and I really did not want to come home.

Bits and Hints

More words of wisdom I have gathered the past 20 years:

A room without books is like a body without a soul. Cicero
_____
Poets are the ultimate philosophers. They surprise us with new observations, touch us with their empathy, startle us with their metaphors and delight us with their vision. Jan Lieberman
_____
It's hard for the modern generation to understand Thoreau, who lived beside a pond, but didn't own water skis or a snorkel. Bill Vaughan
_____
There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. W. Somerset Maugham
_____
(In writing my books) I try to leave out the parts that people skip. Elmore Leonard
_____
Those of us who have gone down a rabbit hole, who have climbed the mast of a plunging schooner with a pirate hot on our tails, who have gone back in time on the back of a cat, those of us who have done these things know how narrow and bleak our lives would have been if untouched by these mind-stretching adventures. For beyond the mere skills of learning to read lies a land of vision and enchantment. The child who is never pointed in that direction will grow to adulthood literate in the "letters" sense of the word, but with a sadly undernourished spirit. Knornei Chukovsky Reading Guidance in a Media Age
_____
In reviewing a book he had just read, Ambrose Bierce said, "The covers are too far apart."
_____
There is an old Yiddish custom--when young children completed a page of study, their teacher dropped a dot of honey on the bottom of the page. The children were encouraged to dip their fingers in the honey and taste the sweetness. Learning should always be sweet. ( I gave my students little pieces of Bit O' Honey candy when I could find them)
_____
From Reader's Digest: A friend introduced me to his daughter, a smartly dressed woman with the manner of a professional person. I learned she was a Roman Catholic nun on vacation from her position as an educational administrator. We agreed that her life-style as a nun was vastly different from what it would have been in earlier days.
"Sister," I said, half in jest, "who knows what changes are yet to come. Why, some future pope may decide to allow nuns to marry!"
"Perhaps," came the reply. "Perhaps she will."
_____
There is power in a dream of excellence.
_____
Education is learning what you didn't even know you didn't know. Ralph Waldo Emerson
_____

Getting tired of these? I am only half-way through the first of six books.

Word Treasures

Commonplace wisdom:

Dr. Seuss took 220 words, rhymed them and turned out Cat in the Hat, a little volume of absurdity that worked like a karate chop on the weary little world of Dick, Jane and Spot.
Ellen Goodman
_____
Good writing is supposed to evoke a sensation in the reader--not the fact that it is raining, but the feel of being rained upon. E. L. Doctorow
_____
A writer lives in awe of words
for they can be cruel or kind,
and they can change their meanings
right in front of you.
They pick up flavors and odors
like butter in the refrigerator.
John Steinbeck
_____
Making a decision to write was a lot like a decision to jump into a frozen lake. I knew I was going in....If I survived at all, it would be a triumph. If I swam, it would be a miracle.
Maya Angelou
_____
Joyce Maynard compares nurturing children to launching toy boats--we lower them gently, run along the bank aways...even get them unstuck a time or two...Then they'll be off toward some unknown destination, while we stand on the shore, waving and cheering, watching them go.
_____
A sixth-grade boy came to the desk, returning a book he really liked The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He asked, "Do you have any more books about deformed bell-ringers?"
_____
Ships in harbor are safe. But that's not what ships are for. John Shedd
_____
The best way out is always through. Helen Keller
_____
I still find that each day is too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see. John Burroughs
_____
Some people, no matter how old they get, never lose their beauty. They simply move it from their faces into their hearts. Max Bauxbaum
_____
Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh Gift from the Sea
_____
If you don't believe in ghosts, you have never been to a family reunion. Ashleigh Brillant
_____

Additional wisdom

Here are some more wise tidbits from my commonplace book:

Children sing the song which they hear from their mother and father. Old African proverb
_____
Deliver us from evil by the blessing
which Christ brings
and teach us to be
merry with clear hearts. (I love this line!)
Robert L. Stevenson
_____
Jim to Huck Finn in Big River:
Life is considerable trouble and considerable joy.
_____
Some people have rain; others have monsoons.
_____
It's a good thing to have the props pulled out from under us once in a while. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet and what is sand. Madeleine L'Engle
_____
Don't doubt in the darkness what God has shown you in the light.
_____
Cliff Notes are like reading the recipe and not tasting the dish.
_____
Unfortunately you won't find God's gift to women in a singles' bar. George Martin
_____
Jesus died to take away your sins, not your mind. George Martin
_____
There is only one problem with religions that have all the answers--they don't allow questions.
George Martin, Episcopal priest in Minnesota
_____
"He missed happiness by seconds" Graham Greene The Power and the Glory
_____
Neglected kids of church workers: apostolic orphans Harold Hazelip
_____
Education's purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one. Malcolm Forbes
_____
At a dinner honoring American Nobel Prize winners, their first official recognition by the government (President Kennedy) announced, "This is the most extraordinary collection of talent.... that has ever gathered together at the White House with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone." Theodore Sorensen in Kennedy
_____
I love all these!!!

Commonplace ideas

Here's more from my commonplace book:

From Max Lucado, Feb. 24, 1987:

The most valuable thing a Christian has is the edge of amazement he stands on. The church in the New Testament was overwhelmed with Jesus.
_____

Who would have believed that God would enter the world through the womb of a teen-age Jewish girl?
_____

Before he died Jack Benny arranged that his wife Mary would get a single red rose a day for the rest of her life.
_____

A boy saw a plaque on the wall of the church. He asked what it was. He was told it was a list of all who died in the service. He asked, "Which one, the first or the second?"
_____

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. Red Smith
_____

Get your facts first and then you can distort them as much as you please. Mark Twain
_____

Nothing makes a person more productive than the last minute.
_____

Seeds planted early take deep root. Elizabeth Yates
_____

(Books) Their pleasures linger like the smell of strawberries or the sound of a home run. Susan OHanion

Commonplace Books

Commonplace books emerged in the 15th century when cheap paper became readily available. They were essentially journals in which were placed quotations, recipes, formulas, prayers, proverbs, etc. In the 18th century, they were used for copying poems or snippets of poetry the gatherer wished to remember. Some say that the commonplace books were guides to the culture of the day. One definition read, "a book in which are entered literary excerpts, striking passages and personal comments." They were kept by such people as John Milton, George Eliot, Mark Twain and Thomas Jefferson.

Some compare the blogs of today with the commonplace books.

I didn't know what it was, but I have been keeping a commonplace book for the last 21 years. Over the next few blogs, I will list some for posterity's sake--and because I like to read over them every now and then.

Feb. 20, 1987:

A man without humor is like a wagon without springs--he is jolted disagreeably by every pebble in the road.
Henry Ward Beecher
_______

A writer must be word-hungry.
____________

Laughter is the hand of God on the shoulder of a very troubled world.
_____________

An artist must be idea-hungry, that is, in a state of mind receptive to ideas. Horn Book, Don Wood, Sept.-Oct. 1986
_______

(Children's authors) may deal in wonder; but reality is ever present. Robert Hale
_________

Writing "under the gun" is not writing. Eileen Tway, Time for Writing in The Elementary School.
_____

Maia Wojciechowska once told of being asked what she was doing when she was a child at school and responding,
"Thinking." "Well, stop it!" the teacher directed. The event provoked her father into taking her out of school. (As he knew) time to think is essential to the education of children.
_____

A journal is one's gift to oneself. Patricia Lee Gauch

Grandparenting

Some of my favorite words today are:

"Watch me, Nonnie!
Whether I'm kicking a soccer ball or
climbing up the back of a chair--

"Watch me, Nonnie!"
Whether I am playing my new two-handed piano piece or
jumping up and down
in the middle of the bed--

"Watch me, Nonnie!"
Whether I am trying a somersault or
viewing a Barney DVD for the 100th time--

"Watch me, Nonnie!"
Whether I am creating a new Polly Pocket scene or
Pretending to be Spiderman shooting webs from my wrists,

"Watch me, Nonnie!"

These are the sweetest words in my world today. Thank you, God.

Children's Poetry

Children's poetry has changed a lot since this one from A Child's Garden of Verses:

A child should always say what's true

And speak when he is spoken to

And behave mannerly at table;

At least as far as he is able.

Through the years, anthologists have struggled with providing poetry appealing to children--some good verse and some bad verse. The question is "Just what kind of poetry is appealing to children?

Shel Silverstein set the pace for those who thought all poetry had to be funny, risque or gross. Then, of course, there were those I Can Read books by Dr.Seuss like One Fish, Two Fish, etc. Jack Prelutsky has become a favorite. One of his is "Willie Ate a Worm Today." My favorite of his I use at Halloween: "The Ghoul". In recent years, poets have felt that children must surely be drawn in by bathroom humor, and so has come the coarsening of children's poetry.

Jane Yolen, Naomi Nye and others have tried to veer the genre away from these off-course rhymes. Yolen has a new book for pre-school and younger children Here's a Little Rhyme. A good Nye book is
The Same Sky: a Collection of Poems from Around the World.

Spring

There is only one word to describe spring in Tennessee: LUSH!!!!! It seems that every day something new has come out to dazzle the eyes and the nose--at first it was daffodils, hyacinth and Bradford trees, then yellow forsythia and red tulips; now the dogwoods are blooming--with showy white and pink blossoms. Wow!!!!

Here's a little poem about the progress of spring:

Showers and shine bring,
Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth;
To put their foliage out, the woods are slack,
And one by one the singing birds come back.

William Cullen Bryant

Elusive Poem

Several times over the past few months the following poem (or part of a poem) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning has crossed my path. I have written and spoken about seeing joy in the mundane in several classes recently--but I have never been able to trace where this bit comes from. I do appreciate the sentiment of the lines. If anyone knows from whence they come, please answer.

Glory in the Commonplace
Enough of Science and of Art;
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees
takes off his shoes;
the rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Hymnody and Poetry

My fellowship has a strange custom when singing some old hymns--skipping verses--usually the third. That is strange to me when one considers that the verse is poetry. When reading "Crossing the Bar", would you skip the third verse????? I have never really found out why that happens in our worship; does anyone know?

Another thing we do in our fellowship is change verses we do not like or understand. Many years ago, it was references to the Holy Spirit. Sometimes the verse was "too emotional", sometimes the verse contained "archaic or words that would be unknown to most people." Again, these were written by poets who said what they wanted to say in praise to God!!!

A recent example I have run across is "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing". In the last part of the first verse I grew up singing "Teach me ever to adore thee..." instead of "Teach me some melodious sonnet..." One is definitely more poetic than the other. Does that mean that the revisers did not think worshipers would know what a sonnet was????It is a mystery to me. I do so enjoy this beautiful old hymn in its original form. And by the way, the second verse mentions "my Ebenezer" (go figure).

In the preface to his A Collection of Hymns for the Use of the People Called Methodists, John Wesley wrote: "In these hymns there is no doggerel, no botches, nothing put in to patch up the rhymes, no feeble expletives. Here is nothing turgid or bombast, on the one hand, or low and creeping on the other. Here are no cant expressions: no words without meaning...We (he and his brother Charles) talk common sense, both in prose and verse, and use no word in a fixed and determinative sense. Here are, allow me to say, both the purity, the strength, and the elegance of the English language: and, at the same time, the utmost simplicity and plainness, suited to every capacity."

Of course, as soon as the words become public domain, anyone is free to change these old hymns.
I wish they did not seem so compelled to do that. Thomas Dudley-Smith ( a lyricist) writes, "In its own way, a hymn needs to be a work of art. A good hymn should exist in its own right as a product of craftsmanship and the artist's ear and eye."

Contemporary hymn writers are carrying on the old traditions of the Wesleys and others. I love singing both the old and the new.

Dreamers

Where would the world be without dreamers? Those who look to the future with imagination and hope....

One of my favorite poets is Langston Hughes. His childhood years were unstable because his father, a lawyer, left the family and moved to Mexico because of racism in the U. S. Raised by his grandmother, he was taught a sense of racial pride as she told him stories about his African ancestors. He was elected class poet in grammar school since he "had a sense of rhythm."
(More racism!) He later lived with his father in Mexico trying to persuade him to support Langston at Columbia in his desire to be a writer. His father said he would pay for an engineering degree, so Hughes went to Columbia studying engineering. He dropped out because of the racial prejudice at the university, but later got a degree at Lincoln University. After dropping out of Columbia, Hughes moved to Harlem where he came of age as a poet in the Harlem Renaissance.

His book The Dream Keeper and Other Poems was published for children in 1994 with wonderful pen and ink drawings by Brian Pinkney. Here are some "dreamer" selections:

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

The Dream Keeper

Bring me all of your dreams,

You dreamers,

Bring me all of your

Heart melodies

That I may wrap them

In a blue cloud-cloth

Away from the too-rough fingers

of the world.

His poem "Dream Variation" contains the much used phrase, "black like me."

Between Easter and Pentecost

In our Vesper's celebration each Wednesday at Otter Creek, we follow the church calendar. The calendar now stands between Easter and Pentecost.

I have a new book of the prayers of Walter Brueggemann. His prayers often qualify as poetry in their form and language. Here is one for the season:

Candidates for Newness

We live the long stretch between

Easter and Pentecost, scarcely noticing.

We hear mention of the odd claim of ascension.

We easily recite the creed,

"He ascended into heaven."

We bow before such quaint language and move on,

immune to ascent,

indifferent to enthronement

unresponsive to new governance.

It is reported that behind the ascending son was

the majestic Father riding the clouds

But we do not look up much;

we stay close to the ground to business and

to busyness

to management and control.

Our world of well-being has a very low

ceiling, but we do not mind the closeness

or notice the restrictiveness.

It will take at least a Pentecost wind to

break open our vision enough to imagine new governance.

We will regularly say the creed

and from time to time--in crises that

drive us to hope and to wish--

wait for a new descent of the spirit among us.

Until then, we stay jaded,

but for all that,

no less candidates for newness.

Walter Brueggemann Prayers for Privileged People

(sorry, Blogger is not allowing me today to put the prayer in poetric arrangement as written) Why???

Greet the Morning--Poetry

I am a morning person. My husband was not--I guess opposites do attract.

I like mornings because they always herald a new beginning.The Bible (particularly Psalms) is full of admonitions to praise God in the morning, and I try to do that. At my age, I praise him for one more day....

One of my favorite poems about morning and the day which follows:

Morning is
a new sheet of paper
for you write on.

Whatever you want to say
all day
until night
folds it up
and throws it away.

The bright words, and the dark words
are gone
until dawn
and a new day
to write on.

Eve Merriam It Doesn't Always Have to Rhyme

Poetry Units

Remember those horrible poetry units in school (designed to make the student hate poetry) in which you had to collect poems maybe on a certain theme and illustrate them? When Brandon did his, we cut up several copies of Ideals Magazines to illustrate.

Generally the teacher also asked the student to write a poem--maybe a haiku. Haiku is probably one of the hardest forms of poetry to write. It is a Japanese verse form consisting of only seventeen syllables in three lines of five, seven and five syllables each. It should convey a single image or feeling. I like this take-off on it:

The only problem
with Haiku is that you just
get started and then

Roger McGough

But here is a good example

In the amber dusk
Each island dreams its own night.
The sea swarms with gold.

Isn't that lovely...

The Patriotic Power of Poetry

Two asides before we get to poetry:

Michael Johns gone!!!No, No, No, No. Should have been at least three others before him, and I think he probably should have won it all. Boo, Boo, Boo!!!!!

As a colon cancer survivor, I am celebrating a perfect colonoscopy this week--so relieved # 1 to have it over for another 5 years, and # 2 for there to be NO polyps. Also celebrating a perfect mammogram (this may be too much information)--I have been know to have cysts, aspirations, needle biopsies, etc. THANK YOU, GOD.

Poetry has long stimulated patriotic feelings--ever since the songs of Moses and Miriam in Exodus 14.

One can just think of the first line of a poem and visualize a moment in history or a certain flag (since the U. S. A. is where I live, those will have to be my references): Do you know them all?

"O, beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain....."

"Give me your tired, your poor...."

"O, say can you see by the dawn's early light...."

"When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed...."

Here once the embattled farmers stood and fired the shots heard round the world...."

"In Flanders Fields where poppies blow between the crosses row on row...."

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord...."

Everybody ready to stand and pledge?

The Emotion of Poetry

Robert Frost has famously said, "A poem begins with a lump in the throat."

Those of us in Music City know this is the kind of poetry that drives country music. Poetry is not the vapid, dry lines of a Hallmark card--but language and rhyme which make the heart overflow.

Frost had many reasons for lumps in his throat--his personal life was full of tragedy, and he often suffered deep depression. He dropped out of Dartmouth to marry. His first son died of cholera at age three; a daughter died three days after birth . The next couple of years, his favorite sister died in a mental hospital and another daughter contracted tuberculosis from which she also died.His wife died of heart failure several years later. Another son became increasingly distraught and threatened suicide. Frost went to vsit him and talked him out of it, but as Frost returned home, his son shot himself. Yet another daughter had to be committed to a mental hospital.

Frost was later quoted, "In three words, I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."

WHEN

Daddy

left us,

he left his

bedroom slippers

beneath the sink

on the bathroom floor.

When

Mama put them

in the giveaway bag

for the poor,

I knew

this time

Daddy

had gone

out the door

for good.

Lee Bennett Hopkins from Been to Yesterday, Poems of a Life

The language of poetry

Paul Valery wrote, "Poetry is an art of language: certain combinations of words can produce an emotion that others do not produce....In short, it is a language within a language."

Those who love words and language generally love poetry. Christopher Fry has said, "Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement." In addition, Paul Engle wrote in The New York Times that "poetry is ordinary language raised to the nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words."

And my favorite definition with perfectly joined words: "Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits." Carl Sandburg Makes you want to smell and eat, doesn't it? Brings to mind this little ditty:

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

Mark Strand

The Poetry of Prayer

Here is another prayer poem from a saint (also from Soul Weavings):



The fullness of joy

is to behold God in everything.

God is the ground, the substance,

the teaching, the teacher,

the purpose,

and the reward for which every soul labors.



Julian of Norwich

The Poetry of Prayer

The prayer we call "The Lord's Prayer" in Matthew 6:9 has many poetic qualities and in most versions of the Bible is indented in poetic form.

This one is from a book called Soul Weavings: a Gathering of Women's Prayers:

It seems to me Lord
that we search much too desperately for answers,
when a good question holds as much grace as an answer.
Jesus,
You are the great Questioner.
Keep our questions alive,
that we may always be seekers rather than settlers.
Guard us well from the sin of settling in
with our answers hugged to our breasts.
Make of us a wondering, far-sighted, questioning, restless people
And give us the feet of pilgrims on this journey unfinished.

Macrina Wiederkehr

Emily Dickinson

In celebration of Poetry Month, let's try a little Emily:

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant--
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind--

Do you suppose that it why God and John "circuited" heaven with metaphors, similies and precious stones?
Hmmm...

(Poetry is) "what ideas feel like." Karl Shapiro

Poetry Month

April is Poetry Month, so I will be doing things with that for a while.

Poetry has never appealed to the majority of the population--not even in the 19th century. Christians do have a special link to poetry, however little they know or suspect it. Those who revere the Psalms are reading poetry every time they open them. Those who sing hymns each Sunday are singing poetry.

It is unfortunate that some readers were turned off poetry forever in school as they memorized, parsed, copied and did "poetry notebooks". Poetry feeds my soul--try it for a while with me this month.

Edgar Allen Poe called poetry "the rhymthic creation of beauty. "I think one of the best stanzas of a modern praise song I have heard is from Mercy Me's
The Love of God:

Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade--
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky.

Why Beauty?

In thinking about the beauty of this season, one has to wonder why beauty? Why did not God just make a nondescript tree with brown bark and lackluster leaves? Why the Bradford Pear with its gorgeous white blossoms? Why not just a plain vanilla night sky? Why the dazzling sunsets we see in Texas (and in some places here in Nashville)? Why the five senses?

In her chapter in the book The Christian Imagination by Leland Ryken, Luci Shaw writes of "Beauty and the Creative Impulse". She says, "When the world was created, it might have seemed to have been enough to have it work. To include beauty seems unnecessary for a mechanistic universe. We have been given a sense of the beautiful which can be regarded as gratuitous. Which it is--a gift of pure grace. And our creation of beautiful things links us with our Creator. God was the first Quilter of prairies, the primal Painter (night skys, ferns, thunderheads, snow on cedars), the archetypal metal Sculptor (mountain ranges, icebergs), the Composer who heard the whales'
strange, sonorous clickings and songs in his head long before there whales to sound them, the Playwright who plotted the sweeping drama of Creation, Incarnation, Redemption, and the Poet whose Word said it all." Wow!

And as for the trees: Genesis 2:9 RSV "And out of the ground, the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food."

Thank you God, our Creator for Bradford pears, and cherry trees, and apricot blossoms, and the peach.

Glory of God right here

The earth is aflame with the glory of God here in Nashville. The pop of the yellow forsythias burns my eyes as I look at them. The purity of the white blossoms on the Bradford pear trees draws my eyes into a cushion of soft, pure rest. What beauty!

Murrary Lane between Franklin Road and Granny White Pike is full of the constasting white and yellow -- a feast of God's creation. See it tomorrow in the sunshine (if it ever comes back).

Why Jane Austen?

I am taking a class at Lipscomb in the LLL program about Jane Austen. My goal is to find what the big deal is about her? Why Jane Austen? Why now?

Through the years I have read several of her books, mostly under duress. Not my favorite period of literature. Our book club read Pride and Prejudice for our yearly classic. I have watched it on DVD, seen "Becoming Jane" and "The Jane Austen Book Club", and am now watching all the other films from Austen's books. (My favorite so far is Sense and Sensibility.) And I still ask Why Jane Austen?

Seems to me her books are very formulaic--If you have read one, you know that the theme of women in poverty and an always happy ending will occur.

Perhaps it is because the readers wish to return to a kinder, gentler time when tea was the highlight of the day, the gentry never worked, but rather went on long visits with friends and relatives, and affairs of the heart ruled the day.

I will say, I like her more than the dark hopelessness of modern fiction. I will take P and P over The Road any day.

Getting By

As a high school debater, I debated the role of unionism in our society--my favorite position was Negative." We don't need them in this great country where everyone has a chance to earn a living wage. They are anti-American, etc. "
As I entered the workplace myself, I wished for one to join. And I did--NEA helps teachers get some of what they deserve. The closest I ever came to poverty was in college as I worked 40 plus hours a week while trying to pay tuition and books in an entry-level job. My folks raised three children on less than minimum wage--I do not know how they did it and still provided us with shelter and food. My Dad's highest year of salary was probably about $10,000.

I just finished reading a book that raised my hackles and made me ashamed and angry at our society of greed. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America. The premise of the book is investigative journalism--Barbara Ehrenreich was assigned to find out how a single woman, booted into the labor market by welfare reform was going to make it on $6-$7 an hour. She worked as a waitress, a housecleaner, an aide at a nursing home, and at Wal-Mart in the months she watched.

Her conclusion, of course, was that they cannot make it--It takes at least $14 an hour for a family to eat, and sleep under a roof. That was in 2000, probably more now.

The poor today are not only underpaid, but also relatively invisible in our society. She calls them
"the major philantropists" of our life in America. "They neglect their own children so that children of others can be cared for; they live in substandard housing so that other houses can be clean and shiny; they endure privation so that inflation will be low and stock prices high." Perhaps my ire rose the highest as she described her job at Wal-Mart. Demeaning, spirit sucking, denying basic civil-rights, this corporate giant deserves the Booby Prize for the Nastiest Corporation of the Decade while its owners top the list of richest billionaries in the U. S.

I decided years ago when I discovered that Wal-Mart would not allow their employees to unionize,but paid them a lower than living wage with teethless benefits, that I would not shop at Wal Mart anymore except under extraordinary circumstances. And so, Target has become my store of choice.

The book is eye-opening, often funny, but very convincing that rather being a haven for those fleeing less democratic nations, the U. S. is instead one of unrelenting rapaciousness ready and willing to take advantage of those who serve us. And please no comments on the "folks who need to buy an alarm clock and get a job." Otter Creek served a woman this year who had no alarm clock and no money to buy one. The choice was food for her baby or an alarm clock--what would you do?

Easter Memories

I woke up yesterday morning to The Easter Song, sung by Second Chapter of Acts--one of my favorite Easter recordings by the group which was probably the first Christian CD we ever bought. It brought to mind past Easters:

As a little girl in Hamlin, Texas wearing black patent leather shoes, white socks and a pretty pink silk dress (made by my mother) entering the church where everyone had preened for Easter--but no evidence of Easter was in the building--no flowers, no songs, no sermon.

As an older high school girl buying a pink hat to go with yet another pink dress at Mode O'Day on Pine Street in Abilene. Entering the same church and still finding no evidence of the resurrection. Maybe we did sing "Low in the Grave He Lay."

As a young mother stuffing Easter eggs for Brandon and laying out his new clothes. Going to Minter Lane in Abilene where there were still no flowers, but a cross, songs and a sermon by Landon Saunders on Easter.

Later at Highland in Abilene, wearing new clothes (not pink) and seeing the cross draped in white, hearing Val Durrington sing "He Is Alive" and Mike Cope preach on the resurrection.

At Otter Creek (old building) participating in a choir, rehearsed and led by my son, singing Easter songs and hearing an Easter sermon by Tim Woodroof.

Yesterday, wearing a new periwinkle blue jacket, greeting all those who came in, smelling Easter lilies in the foyer, singing Easter songs, Lee Camp preaching on Turning Points (which the Easter Story definitely is). Enjoying the Rembrandt etchings and photographs of crosses by Jerry Atnip decorating our art gallery in the foyer.

Thank you God that at least my part of our fellowship pays homage to that glorious day when Christ arose and spread his love forever on those who believe.

Sunshine and Shadows

The Amish invented a new quilt pattern many years ago called "Sunshine and Shadows" in which both light and dark colors are used in juxtaposition--beginning with a light square in the middle of the quilt followed by another row of dark-colored squares around it, then followed by another row of light squares, etc. It is a contrast of light and dark with a stunning visual effect when the quilt is finished. Of course, it is a metaphor for life--good and bad, joy and sorrow, etc. It is also a picture of that wonderful passage in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8: ....a time to be born and a time to die....a time to weep and a time to laugh.

I guess I have been in shadows since Brandon announced his resignation at Otter which deepened even further when Sheryl announced the family would not be coming back to Otter to worship, but felt drawn to another church. Selfishly for me that meant:

Brandon will no longer be my worship leader. I will no longer experience his evocative call to prayer and his emotive guidance into the heart of God. I will no longer be able to see the kids dressed in Sunday clothes freshly coming from class with cotton ball sheep and paper-sack mangers. There will be no special celebrations on Easter or Christmas or on the third Sunday of each month when instrumental and vocal musicians got to use their great gifts in bringing us to worship. And for so many other reasons, I have been a blue funk for almost two months, trying to see what God is doing in all this, both with Brandon and Sheryl and with me.

The sunshine is peeping through as I watch Brandon revel in his new job, receive acclamations for
his work and see Sheryl excited to be helping him find new venues for the productions. And to know that they are both meeting new people and letting their lights shine in new corners; and in seeing the darkness of the last year lifted from their faces.

Those shadows in my life are miniscule in comparison to the shadows felt by that small band of Christ-followers in Jerusalem the day after the crucifixion. That Saturday must have been horrible as they saw their whole world come to an end with the death of their Lord. (Had they listened a little better, he did give them hints of the resurrection, but like most of us would have, they went directly into hiding and sorrow).

Fortunately we know and they found out that Saturday is followed by Sunday, shadows followed by sunshine, and death by resurrection. Hallelujah!

Honoring Women

Today's honoree in the Women's History Hall of Fame is one I had never heard of until I came to Nashville and received the little pamphlet Remember the Ladies: Women of Mount Olivet Cemetery.

In reading it, it was eye-opening to realize how much of Nashville's history was made by sweet soft-spoken retiring Southern women.

Kate Eastman Savage Zerfoss was a pioneer in eye surgery techniques. Imitating her doctor father, she bandaged and operated on her dolls as a child. She received her medical degree from Tulane in 1922.

More of interest to me than her skill as a physician was her tenure on the Federal Highway Safety Commission. Kate Zerfoss suggested during her service there that white lines be drawn on the edge of the road to reduce accidents. And what a service to us that was! Especially those of us who need all the help we can get while driving at night.

I ate in her home this year. Her home at 165 Eighth Avenue has been made into a restaurant (a good one). It is the last remaining town house in downtown Nashville.

Women's History Month--Another entry

And some other women of the month are:

Preschool teachers--specifically those at the Otter Creek Kindergarten.

These women have the patience and fortitude to take at 50 little children and teach them to sing the season's songs (Peter Cottontail) with hand and body movements and to recite the Lord's Prayer. Sam was a little Easter Egg and Ella was a bunny and their program today was a blast! (Faye Reider told me today that she could shake her booty with the best). If you knew Faye, you would know how funny that is.

Thank you Otter teachers and all teachers who begin the road of education for our best gifts. Bless you--you are in my Hall of Fame.

Another Entry for Women's History Month

Another woman I celebrate this month is Madeleine L'Engle. She died in September, 2007 after a long life of 88 years. Her 60 books are as varied as her interests. She wrote fantasies as a children's author (Wrinkle in Time), poetry, memoirs (Summer of the Great-grandmother) Christian inspirational books, and science essays. Her thoughts on creativity in Walking on Water have become classic reading for artists of all kinds.

Her other Christian books are often challenging, but always filled with a strong belief in God and his faithfulness. I own 17 of her books and have enjoyed them all, but I guess my favorite is The Rock That Is Higher: Story as Truth which begins with the story of her horrible car wreck in California in 1991. In that story, she reaffirms the fact in her life that God is her creator and is The Rock.

Later, she looks at the God of Scripture as the one who "refused to nuke Ninevah, even though that is what Jonah wanted; who forgave David for a staggering list of wrongdoings; who goes out on a stormy night for one lost black sheep; who throws a party when the prodigal son returns; who loves so much that he sent his only begotten son to live with us, as one of us, --to help us understand our stories--each one unique, infinitely valuable, irreplaceable."

Now that is a God I can follow and a woman I admire.

Women's History Month

It took us a while to realize that women had something to offer in our history. 1978 in Sonoma, CA was the first celebration of Women's History Week. Then Congress expanded it to Women's History Month in 1987 after the women's movement of the 60's caused women everywhere to question their invisibility in history books.

All too often, women are invisible--we only miss them when we miss what they do--no one left to do my laundry, to clean the kitchen, to pick up the clothes at the cleaners, etc. To think that there were once women in history who actually did something worth noting was once almost unthinkable. The only women I remember mentioned in history class ( please realize the memory is not what it used to be) was a Revolutionary War spy and the wives of the Presidents.

I am thinking today of a very brave musician who broke the color barrier in opera. Marian Anderson
grew up poor, but with a heavenly voice. Her community actually took up contributions to help pay for her lessons. But she was African- American in a time when the black musicians were doing only jazz and blues. She decided that if she were going to someday succeed in opera (Note the optimism), she would have to learn many languages, so she went to Europe. She started singing in the great houses over there and became a European sensation. Her agent began to think she could sing anywhere. With Howard College, he tried to book her into Constitution Hall in D. C. which was run by the DAR. Sorry--they had no date available, and anyway, they booked only white singers.

Angered by the refusal, Eleanor Roosevelt resigned from the organization, newspapers took up the cry, and she was eventually set to sing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939. 75,000 people of all colors and faiths came to hear her.

Sixteen years later (perseverence) this woman who now sang in 8 languages opened at the Metropolitan Opera at the age of 57.

There is a beautiful children's book which tells her story. Add it to your collection: When Marian Sang by Pam Munoz Ryan , illustrated by Brian Sel znick .

Women's History Month

This is the month we celebrate the accomplishments of women in our lives. In my class at Lipscomb last week we talked about mentors--and not suprisingly most of them were women--mostly mothers, grandmothers and teachers. Of course, fathers and grandfathers were mentioned too.

It is too true that we do not think to thank those who have brought us up until it is too late--but it may not be too late for you dear readers to thank those who served as your mentors. Do it today with a phone call or letter or card.

March is Women's History Month. It does seem like a good month to discuss those women both in life and in history who have led, inspired and goaded us to be better people.

As I spoke to my class, I told them that one of my mentors was a person I had never met or heard speak: Marian Wright Edelman. She is president of the Children's Defense Fund and the author of several books including the inspirational The Measure of Our Success and Guide My Feet. I also like her book Lanterns, A Memoir of Mentors in which she recounts how her mentors changed her life. She says some of the most important lessons did not come from Harvard PHD's, but from poor women and men educated in the school of life. "Their pens and pencils were sharpened by poverty. Their mother wit was created by the daily struggle to survive. Their inner faith was nourished by their outer losses. Their eyes were riveted on searching for and doing God's will rather than human ways, and their standards were divine rather than human.

She continues, " Their examples made me stand up when I wanted to sit down, try one more time when I wanted to stop, and go out the door when I wanted to stay home and relax. They saw me inside and not just outside and affirmed the strengths I had."

Know anyone like that in your life? As I write this month, I will be celebrating the mentors in my life.

Thanks to Marian Wright Edelman for all she and the Children's Defense Fund does for children and for the very insprirational books she writes.