Attack of the Bumblebee

Nose pressed eagerly against the glass, I watched enchanted as the shiny white paint was brushed onto the deck railing.

I tugged at the glass door, and stepped out in my bare feet.

"Can I help, dad, please?"

"No, honey, not this time, you'd only be in the way. I don't want you to come out here now."

Disappointed, I returned inside. Once there, I looked back out and saw that my brother was out there. It didn't seem fair.

To understand that, you have to realize that my brother and I are only a year apart. Also, that I had always considered myself completely equal with him. And yet, occasionally, evidence that he could be allowed privileges that I was not would shock my small world.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and the deck was a regular pathway to the green expanse of grass beyond. It wasn't the reason, but it was a reason to be tempted to disobedience. From the context, I knew Dad had only forbidden the deck, and yet, how could he?

"Surely,' I thought, "Dad had only meant that I couldn't stand on the part he was working on. It would be perfectly fine just to watch him from the other part of the deck. He hadn't said I couldn't watch! If I got tired, I could cross the deck and play in the grass."

I returned to the glass door and looked out again. The activity outside was fascinating and irresistible.

Opening the door again, silently, cautiously, I stepped out again. I knew fully that I was being disobedient, but couldn't I just watch? I hadn't taken ten steps when I cried out in pain. A bee had stung me on the heel.

Dad turned around and saw me. He told me to go inside to Mom for the bee sting, and then said quietly, "I told you to stay off the deck."

I knew without his words that the bee sting was a direct consequence of my disobedience.

Wisps of Memory

Five children came rushing tumultuously out the front door and down the brick steps. Each held in their hands the much coveted special summer treat; an ice cream cone.

"Race you to the Story Rock." Paul yelled and took off. John was on his heels, and four year old Peter toddled gamely behind. Such a boy.

Always up for a challenge, Katie and I followed also, but more slowly. I knew what would happen to the precious Ice Cream if one went too quickly.

Naturally, we reached the rock last. John and Paul had already clambered up, careless of small scrapes. Katie and I were next, searching carefully for good handholds. Then, we reached down and hauled Peter up the tall face.

Eventually, we had all settled down cross-legged on the cool, but sun-warmed surface of the huge, flat-topped rock. After a few licks, most of the boys chomped down on the ice cream, but John and the girls licked slowly, savoringly.

The silence was short-lived. I could not contain myself.

"Come on, Katie! Tell us a story! Pleeeease?"

"YEAH!!!!!" Enthusiasm galor from the male contingent.

Stalling for time, since she never told one before she had finished her ice cream, Katie answered slowly. We waited in anticipation for the loved, expected, predictable response.

"All right, what do you want in it?"

That was the game. Each of us were allowed to think of one thing that would be included in the story. Some were quicker than others to think of something. Others thought of something and then changed their minds. Everything originated from the wildest corners of our imaginations, and yet, each was characteristic.

Paul's choice was always militaristic.

"I want a huge tank, bigger than anything else in the entire story!"

John's was always mechanical; a logical and cool new invention, but also ranging alongside with a typical boys response.

"I want a clock that blows up the huge tank when it strikes 4:30."

My choice had two extremes depending on mood. It might be wildly impossible and magical, or it might be something a little more realistic and simple.

"A butterfly that saves the world."

Peter could always be expected to follow Paul's lead.

"I want a tank that's bigger than Paul's!" It was put forward that that would be impossible, so he changed it.

"Fine then, how about a big tree that the tank crashes into?"

From these objects, Katie would tell a story that would leave us sitting up on our knees and leaning forward, drinking in the tale eagerly. Sometimes, if she wasn't in the mood to tell a story, she would stall and be provokingly literal. But usually, she give in on our protesting demands to "tell a REAL story, Katie!"

"Once upon a time," she might begin, "there was a huge tank of water, so big that it acted as a roof over the world."

("KATIE! I said a TANK!"
"Of course you did, you didn't say what kind."
"I want to change it!"
"Sorry, you made you choice. Who's telling the story?"
Paul sat back a little disgruntled, but soon became interested again.)

Katie repeated her sentence.

"...so big it was like roof on top of the world. And it sat there and weighed the whole earth down, and down, and down, and everybody wondered why they were sinking. And then, one day, a little, tiny butterfly discovered the reason. She had been blown in a storm way up high and had seen the giant tank.

"When the storm was over, she flew back down and searched for a man she had once seen. After many days of looking, she finally found him.

"The man was an very old inventor who often came up with ingenious ideas, but no one ever paid any attention. He had discovered how to speak to four thousand different species, and that was how the butterfly was able to tell him.

"'Ah, small one,' said the old man, 'you have saved us all!'

"The old man set to work to make an itsy-bitsy bomb and a great long string, which he attached to a clock. Then, he called the butterfly and gave her careful instructions. She was to drop the bomb into the tank of water at it's steam hole. He would give her one whole day to get there, and one whole day to get back, and then he would set the clock and the bomb would go off and destroy the tank.

"When the butterfly got back, the man carefully set the alarm to 4:30 p.m.

"He told no one of his experiment, because he wasn't sure if it would work. But, it did. At 4:30, the bomb went off and the tank came crashing down in many little pieces and one giant piece. And the giant piece landed on a huge tree in the middle of the forest, and there it sits today.

"And one more thing, it flooded for forty days and forty nights, and some of the water got stuck in the clouds and that is why it rains sometimes.

"The End"

Various and Sundry

It's been a while since I did a book review...this is not it. At least, not exactly. I was reading an interesting book however. It's called "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. And he made two points that were very thought-provoking.

I'd heard a lot about this book, but when I finally got around to checking it out at the library, I was expecting quite a bit of the touchy-feely stuff. While there may have been a little of that, I was overall very pleasantly surprised. So, here's the two interesting points.

The first one was Chan's intriguing question: "Is what you're doing right now what you want to be doing when Jesus comes back? Is this what you want to be 'caught' doing?" Now, while I can't go so far as to say that all things that are pleasureful are bad because it's not witnessing or something (a point that seemed like it might have been loosely made) it is a very convicting question.

Interesting point number two was the author's observation regarding the American/western obsession with 'personal safety.' While he agreed that it was perfectly all right to ask for God's protection during a journey etc., he wondered if we were missing out. If we were so concerned with our own safety that we were stuck in a rut of never going outside of our comfort zone to witness/suffer persecution for the name of Christ.

That point ties into something I heard a few months ago. A young man of my acquaintance was giving a talk about complacency. Are we so stuck on our safety that we have become complacent with that role? It's time to move out. What's happened that world-changers are so rare? Our age has some great preachers, but where are the people who act on that preaching to the sacrificing of our selves?

I've been going to a nearby town to share the gospel with a group of other people. I am amazed at how lost people are. I have met people who are clueless as to the gospel, I have met people who are scornful, antagonistic, stubborn, and hating. But I have also seen people who are responsive.

Reading in John this morning, I read something about how those who are lost are incapable of hearing the word of God. I've seen this worked out. But guess what? The very fact that they are incapable of hearing us apart from the Holy Spirit's convicting power should embolden us to be unafraid of their automatically negative response.

Hmm, I was going to say a lot more about other things, but, I can't seem to form the words yet, so you'll just have to wait. I merely admonish you to do the right thing, because it is right and to love and follow God alone above all others, but to listen also to your spiritual authorities.

Toodle-oo!

Of Things Dead

I had the opportunity last night to go to the Bellevue Square bus terminal to ask people some questions.

Ephesians 2:1: "For they are dead in their trespasses and sins."

"How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you. Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; But ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; When your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you.Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me: For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the LORD: They would none of my counsel: they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices." Proverbs 1:22-31

Man1: "Yes, I'm going to heaven. I'm a good person. Yes, I've lied, but, I've asked forgiveness, so it's all ok. But, I don't really hold with all that religious stuff."

I approached the next guy by myself. From a distance, you could see they were goofing off. I'm afraid I indulged in the thought, "hey, sometimes goofy people are easier to talk to..." There were two of them standing together.

Me: Have you ever thought about what happens when you die?

Man1: You dead, man.

Man 2: I already done been asked that. I don't believe in that stuff. I went to college and took an OT class. I even got a Bible verse right here on my arm. It says King James eyes of blue and hair of bronze. I got it right here. You say the Bible's God's word? What'd he do, take a pen out and write it hiself? Oh, no, it was written by a bunch of human beans. Humans don't have the authority to utter God's word.

~~~~~

Woman1: No, I don't plan to die. I have no plans to die anytime soon. 

~~~~~

Man 1: I don't care.

~~~~~

Man1: I hate God and all that He stands for. He has hurt me too much. Yes, I know that He loves me, but I hate him. The only times I've lied are when it was necessary to save myself or someone else from harm, so it was ok.

~~~~~

After a while, I tagged along behind one of the other men who were there asking questions and listened to his expertise.

~~~~~

Man1: I don't care. Sure, I've told lies, committed adultery, blasphemed, stolen things, but, if there is a Judgment day, I'll be innocent, because all those things were for a good cause.

~~~~~

The saddest one was the one who pointed to Christian hypocrisy as his reason for not believing. He also insisted that political activists equal religious people, that he was upset because all the churches rose up together to squash the recent gay rights bill, and that he would return the next week to say more things that wouldn't be liked. He also admitted that he would be guilty if he stood before the throne, but that with age comes wisdom and then you won't be a sinner anymore.

~~~~~

As my dad says: "It's not a lost and dying world, it's a lost and dead world."

"Therefore said he unto them, The harvest truly is great, but the labourers are few: pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest." Luke 10:2

The Wedding Pictures

These pictures aren't really in order...Enjoy!

The lovely people who hosted us. There's a brother too, but I couldn't find a picture of them all together.

Throwing the bouquet. Sarah has a strong arm, the bouquet went over all those heads and landed in the back!

The gorgeous reception decor

The Father/Daughter dance. It was very sweet.

The Bride's Family. Don't they all look nice!?

The car. I love the decal!

More Beautiful decorations!

Me.

Going through the honor gaurd

The Bride's Cake. It almost fell over when they put the pressure of the knife on. Paul is holding it up.

Paul and the best man. Friend's for years and years.

The Ceremony

I love this picture of the rings. 

The sand...after it was mixed.

First Kiss!!

Paul and the Grandparents

Carrying her out. Isn't it pretty!?

Best man and maids of honor. L to R: Jensen Kelly, Craig Alford, Hannah Livingston

"First Look." When Paul saw Sarah in her dress for the first time.

They're about to be married!

Janessa and Jared

Here they come!

Wedding Party: Me, Cameron Partsch, Katie, John, Hannah L., Craig A.,  Elizabeth L. Sarah, Paul, Jensen, Jared, Janessa, Noah L. Rachael

Katie and John

Groom, Groomsmen, and Ushers...(minus one)

Sisters

Them...and us.

Sand Ceremony. Pretty!

Me and Cameron Partsch

The groom's cake

The security guards

I love this picture

This is such a good one of Peter. And a close up of the security ear-piece!

Bride's parents, bride and groom, groom's parents

Wedding party plus ushers minus one

There we are! Grooms family

Cake smearing. They obviously were enjoying themselves

Brides cake and cupcakes

Groom and parents

She's coming up behind him!

The Charge!

Bridal party

Don't they look nice?

Rachael and Noah L.

Time for a spanking!

So pretty!

The bride and groom

Bride, groom, and bridal party

My Perspective; Chapter 7: In Which I Conclude with the Big Bang...Bash I mean

I spent Wednesday night with my Grandparents and it stormed away all night long. In the morning we awakened to find that not only had the motor home leaked quite a bit more, but that each RV had its own private lake underneath. About mid-morning, my big brother called and wanted us to come over to the bride’s house to, (ostensibly) help load the U-Haul with the bride’s things. I think he really just wanted my grandparents to meet her! On our way, we encountered more flooding, nearly halfway –up the hubcaps in one part. But, once we reached the highway, things dried up a bit.

When we had almost reached the house, we came across a railroad track. There was no signage to indicate that it was an abnormal crossing, so we crossed at, well, what turned out to be an un-safe speed. My head hit the ceiling and the wheels left the ground as we bounced across!

After an hour of visiting or so, Mr. Livingston went to pick up the remaining members of my family at the airport, my grandparents returned to the RV Park, and I remained with my brothers and the bride’s brothers, and the bride, to help…I mean, watch them load the U-Haul. There were some struggles with a couch, but in the end, it all got done.

That evening, when my entire family had been united and the Livingston’s were all together, there was a lovely little party and then my sister and I went to stay with some of Sarah’s friend’s.

Friday, my family went to prepare for the rehearsal dinner, while the Livingston’s went to prepare for the rehearsal and wedding. I stayed at the Livingston’s with Hannah L. to make cakes and salad for the rehearsal dinner. It was then that I broke the Livingston’s sink. It remained broken for three days (when my mom fixed it). It also proceeded to spray everyone who turned on the faucet… (The sprayer was stuck.)

The rehearsal went fantastically that evening. The funniest thing that happened was one of the groomsmen’s remarks as he practiced guiding the bridesmaid’s down the aisle.

“So…I just walk to the center and they just…get on me?”

The rehearsal dinner went just as well with Pizza, Soda, cake, salad, and the sweetest and funniest toasts ever from the brother of the groom and the sister of the bride. My mom did a fabulous job of decorating, but sadly, I don’t think there are any pictures. (My cake was a hit too…but, ‘let another man praise me…’)

The next morning, my sister and I, (and her friend) went with Sarah and Hannah to the hair salon. The three of us watched the two of them get themselves all beautified (to the music of clicking cameras) and then we went to get lunch at Newk’s. (It was really tasty. They need some of those restaurants up here in the north!)

Then, we headed to the church where we hung out for a while, got into our dresses, and Sarah got some pictures with the groom around then too. Afterwards, the whole wedding party took pictures together for a long time and by the time it was over, it was time for the ceremony.

I was sure I wasn’t going to cry, but I did tear up a bit as Sarah came down the aisle. It was like I realized that this was my brother’s wedding!

Instead of a unity candle, they had a sand ceremony. I couldn’t see it, but it turned out pretty funny. Paul’s sand had gotten wet or something and was clumping. It wouldn’t come out! In the end, it did come out, but not till the last notes of the 5 minute (aprox.) special music had ended.

My dad gave a fabulous charge, even if he didn’t do it like Yosemite Sam (just watch some Bugs Bunny cartoons). And, now they’re married. :D

Mrs. Livingston and her crew did a stupendous job decorating for the reception. It was beautiful. (The food was good too) The bridesmaids came in through the Air Force Honor Guard, and the groomsmen dressed up like security guards. Then, we watched with bated breath as the bride and groom walked under the honor guard’s arch of swords. When they reached the end, one of the honor guards’s spanked the bride (an Air Force tradition…) and everything proceeded with ease and festivity.

The best man and one of the maids of honor did a toast, and then the bride and groom cut the bride’s cake. (There was a groom’s cake too…Southern tradition I think) They smeared the cake and got it all over the place and then the bride and her father danced and then they left. My brother carried Sarah to the car through a cloud of bubbles. It was beautiful and sweet and romantic.

Then, all the out of town guests, plus a few extra, headed over to the Livingston’s to unload cars, load presents into cars, and party.

At the party, which was fabulous (did I mention Southern hospitality yet? Ah, now I have) we heard some of the famous Cajun Thibodeaux and Boudreaux...They were pretty funny.

Then, we all went to our respective places for the night and in the morning, we went to church with the Livingston’s. A couple of the groomsmen also stayed for church. Then, we went home and crashed. I took another nap…:D My sister and I stayed at the Livingston’s that night, and the next morning, Mr. Livingston graciously took us and my parent’s to the New Orleans airport. My brothers were, and are, and did, repeat my trip with my grandparents…only backwards. They got stuck in that awful place, Deming, New Mexico, when the alternator broke, but now they’re safe in Phoenix and due to return home tomorrow. (They said they had fun in Deming…)

Oh, and the flight home was very long, but the sunset in Seattle was gorgeous as we flew in and I was absolutely thrilled to discover that I hadn’t missed spring and that our very kind friends where there to pick us up and said very kind friends also brought us dinner…very kindly. (Did I mention that Northern Hospitality exists too?)

And so, we have the end of the story! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Post to follow with Pictures later today or tomorrow. Stay tuned!

My Perspective; Chapter 6: In Which Louisiana Comes After Texas

Louisiana, where the bridges are tall and pointy. Goodness, it was as if they were trying to see how acute they could make the arch! I noticed as we continued that the first bridge there was not the only such tall pointy bridge.

Louisiana, where everything is generally grungy. Perhaps Louisiana doesn’t have litter laws? At least, they’re not very well enforced.

Louisiana, where 98% of the billboards are for casinos and the other 2% are for “adult clubs” Have you ever noticed that casinos and things seem to attract certain unsavory groups of people. The litter etc. was the evidence I think.

Louisiana, where the rest stops are practically a full mile off the exit. I’ve never seen such a long approach! But, I found that amusing rather than annoying.

 At the rest stop, our motor home seemed to attract certain natural unsavory characters. We had a large swarm of bees attack our window shield. Grandpa said it had something to do with the insect kills that all cars make when traveling. Although, how an insect could travel in the weather we had, I have no idea!

We had pulled off, as I said, because we could hardly see a thing. I’ve never seen road conditions that were so bad that all the cars put on their hazard lights. At times, that was all you could see was the flashing lights. If they hadn’t been on…well, let’s just say we didn’t have an accident because of those lights.

When we hit the road again, it seemed as though the sky was lighter towards the east. We thought we were out of the storm, but as we continued through the state towards our next stop, Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, the storm hit us again. We all saw the three-pronged bolt of lightning hit the ditch directly beside the shoulder less highway.  And we all heard the clap of simultaneous very loud thunder. I’ve never been so close before, and while I wasn’t particularly scared, I can see what people are scared of!

Louisiana, where the most of the interstate is on pilings. That was interesting.

Louisiana, where I didn’t see an alligator in the rather pretty bayous. L

Louisiana, where I saw with my own eyes how the trees in the bayous were 3 or 4 feet plus in water. I must admit, I don’t think I really believed it was possible for a full-size tree to grow in  

Louisiana, where the bayous are prettier if you don’t look too closely. All that grassy-looking stuff was either floating grass, and therefore treacherous, or pond scum stuff.

By the way, I forgot to mention. I saw Mexico! :D I could almost have touched it. In New Mexico, we went through a check-point. (Where I saw an army jeep freight truck carrier thing, and a torpedo carrying truck thing), and, going into Mexico would have been as easy as crossing a railroad track!

Anyway…I also forgot to mention that I saw the Gulf. Which reminds me…

The Gulf, where, at least under cloudy skies, it’s rather brown and ugly. Nothing like the beautiful waters of Washington and the Pacific Coast. :D

At Breaux Bridge, we stayed over night at a Wal-Mart. The Wal-Mart was located directly across from a truck stop. The truckers, a steady stream of them, would walk over to shop. They would set my Grandparent’s dogs to barking. Have you ever noticed that truckers seem to have their very own special…well, ‘aura’ was the word I used then, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the right word.

Speaking of my grandparent’s dogs…one of them sets up a wailing howl whenever a police siren goes off. It’s hilarious. The dog howled quite a bit in Louisiana, where we were warned more than once by more than one person about the police who like to pull as many people over as possible. (We didn’t get caught though...:D)

The next day didn’t storm too much and we finished off Louisiana…or “Lousyana” as my brother named it, with yet another tall pointy bridge. We arrived at our campsite, and our destination in Biloxi, Mississippi three days before the big wedding.