KEY RB#1" FOCUS ON THE LIGHT

Thanks for joining me as we begin a new series in the Land of Abundant Living!  The road we travel together this fall will take a few new twists and turns as we venture deeper into the center of this amazing land.
Oh, thank you for pointing out the first road sign! "WARNING . . . ROAD BLOCKS AHEAD."  I see some smaller writing underneath that is difficult to make out at this distance.  I need to get closer and slow down to read it.   Hold on . . . we'll pull over to this grassy area and stop for a moment.  If I lean out my window and squint I can just barely make it out.
"Patience and stamina are required to continue, but you will be well rewarded!"
What should we do, fellow travelers?  Do you think so?  Are we in agreement then?
Great!  I'm for going on, also!  After all, we are in this Land to find adventures and purpose, right?
OK, let's move on.  Sit back and relax.  I'll tell you when we near a trouble spot.  So far, it's a pleasant day and the view is enticing.  Peaceful hills rise in rounds like a series of cakes frosted with green grass and dotted with purple and yellow candy flowers.  I am reveling in the fresh, gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.
Oh oh, another sign.  This one is easy to read:  "FOCUS ON THE LIGHT."  We can hardly miss a sign that large, but what could it mean?  The only visible light source is the sun and it is behind us.  If I focus on that, we'll have to drive backwards!
Hmm . . . a memory is pricking at the edges of my brain.  Bits and pieces are slipping through the narrow entrance and expanding as they enter, like a flat sponge that expands when soaked in water.
Yes!  My memory is getting clear now.  Let's pull over here and I'lll share it with you.

One gorgeous afternoon last week, my husband took me out for a boat ride on a small, but pretty lake a few miles from our home.  The trip was a wonderful balance of peaceful, serene contentment as we floated smoothly on crystal clear waters near the shore and exciting, invigorating thrills as we sped up and raced through the middle, bouncing over cresting waves.  Enchanting diamond sprinkles popped up in nano-seconds here and there and burst like the bubbles I blow with my grandsons as the sunshine flicked them across the surface.  I was awed and absorbed by the beauty of God's world.
When we finished the ride, my husband towed the boat out of the lake with his trusty, green truck.  As I stood waiting for him in the parkway, I happened to glance across the highway and noticed a cemetery on the other side.  How strange!  We have lived in our country home for six years and this was the first time I noticed the cemetery.  How could I be so unobservant?
I suppose at some point, maybe the first time I took that road, I saw the cemetery on one side and the beautiful lake on the other and, possibly unconsciously, made the decision that viewing the cemetery was not worth my time.  From then on, my eyes were riveted to the waters whenever I took this route and gradually I forgot the cemetery even existed.

Wow!  What a lesson as we begin our new journey in the Land of Abundant Living!  We have choices every day as to where we will place our focus.   Will I turn my spiritual, emotional, and intellectual eyesight to the Light of God's Word and His holy presence in my circumstances just as I turned my physical eyes towards the light sprinkles dancing on the lake?  Or will I harbor dismal "death-producing" worries and fears about possible calamities to come as represented by the quiet cemetery?


"Every single day, things happen to us that we consider good and bad.  What do you suppose God wants us to focus our thoughts on?  See Philippians 4:8:  "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things."
Why do you think God wants us to think about these things?
God wants His children to live with joy, in the midst of problems and to be happy!  He loves us and He knows that He can handle our problems if we yield them to Him.  He wants us to trust Him and go on our day rejoicing!"  (Taken from The View From Eternity by Linda Ruth Stai)

I have to admit, my thoughts and general well-being are lifted when I turn my eyes towards the sparkling waters instead of gazing on the assortment of tombstones across the highway.  So can I expect my thoughts and sense of well-being to be lifted to a higher spiritual level when I turn my eyes on Jesus, the Light of Life, instead of letting Satan, the dark deceiver of death, control my thoughts?
Yes!  All right, let's travel on together and see what adventures await us . . . full speed ahead! 

KEY SB#16: "Go Deep into the Woods . . . "

"Where is the path, Grandma?"Big C turns and lifts his arms upwards in frustration.  "I can't find it with all these trees!"  I tighten my grip on Little c's hand and together we hurry to catch up with him.  My seven-year-old grandson had run ahead in his eagerness to discover the hidden pathway through the woods to the secret place I had promised to show him and his two-year-old brother, Little c.

(*NOTE:  IF YOU WANT TO READ OF OUR PREVIOUS SUMMER ADVENTURES IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING, PLEASE GO TO THE ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT!)

"Hmmm, it was around here somewhere.  My friend, Marian, showed me the path a while ago."  We hunted for a few moments.  

"No sekwet pat," Tears start to form in Little c 's eyes.  "Me no see sekwet."  

My heart melts as I try to encourage him.  "I know it's here somewhere.  Let's keep looking."

"Here it is!"  Big C suddenly exclaims with delight.  "Is this it, Grandma?"

Little c's tears evaporate as quickly as they had appeared and he rushes ahead of his brother.  

"Watch out for fallen branches and eye-pokers!" I shout in warning.

"Eye pokers?" Both boys turn mid-step and stare at me with bewilderment.

"Those are the branches on the trees that stick out at you.  Push them away or walk around them."

"I know that, Grandma," Big C reminds me.  "I'm old."  He adds with caution, "But you watch out, Little c." 

"Okay."  His younger brother nods solemnly as he pushed a branch out of his way. 

We plunge on ahead between the large trees for a few minutes when Big C thinks to ask, "What are we looking for, Grandma?"

Just then, I trip and squeal, toppling forward and hitting my chin on the ground.  Now tears form in my eyes as I roll over on one elbow and rub my tender chin with one hand.  

Little c, who is the closest, rushes to grab my arm and tugs on it in an attempt to help me up.  "Gamma," he admonishes me, "You watch out!  Be care-fo."

Laughter replaces my tears.  'Yes, Little c, I'll try harder to watch where I'm going."

I stand up and brush myself  off.  "We are here, boys!  We're at the secret place!"

The boys gaze around in puzzlement.    

"Me jest see twees," says Little c, "Aw awound."  

"Oh, but look, Little c," exclaims his big brother, pointing towards the sky, "That tree is reeee-aaa-lllly huge!"  

Oooh," Little c cranks his neck upwards trying to catch a glimpse of the tree top.  "Goes up aaw da way to hebben!"

"My friend told me that this tree was written up in the Minneapolis paper a long time ago, because it is one of the oldest and largest cottonwood trees in our state of Minnesota!" I explain.  "I brought my camera with me.  Why don't you two stand by the tree and I'll take your picture?"

"Can I take your picture instead, Grandma?  I like to use the camera!" Big C offers.  

"Me help!" Little c joins in.  

"Very well!  Here, hold it just so and push this little button," I give instructions as I hand the camera to Big C.  You may each take one picture."

"I'll take a picture of you, Grandma and Little c can take one of the top of the tree," Big C suggests. 

"Grandma, you are hugging the tree backwards!"  Big C bursts into giggles.  So does Little c.  They hold their tummies and grimace with joyful laughter.

"Well, I want the picture to show how wide the tree is!" I explain.

"Now pwease move, Gramma," Little c requests politely.  "Me take my picture."

"Whoops! Ouch!"  Little c topples backwards onto the leafy ground in his efforts at photography.  "Me not hurt."  He pops up quickly.  "Big twee.  Berry big twee."  He picks up the camera and hands it to me.  "But me got da picture!" A beaming, proud smile adorns his precious face.  

Minutes later, as the three of us sit on a blanket spread out on the grass by the church, we examine the pictures and talk.  

"Grandma, we wouldn't have ever found the huge tree if we hadn't gone into the woods," Big C pondered.  "I wouldn't have known it was there."

"Yes, just think.  I've been here many times during the past years and didn't know it was there either.  I never looked for hidden paths or went deep into the woods.  " I answered him, then added,  "It's kind of like the way some church-attenders are.  Many times I've visited this little church but never searched for hidden paths or walked deep into the woods around it.  Lots of people go to church on Sundays and hear some parts of God's Word.  But that's all they do.  They never read the Bible on their own to discover the hidden truths God wants them to learn.  They never "walk deeper" into God's Word looking for special surprises that God has to encourage them along the Path of Life.  

"I read my Bible everyday!" exclaimed Big C, "and sometimes I read it to Little c, too."

"That's a great habit to start at a young age," I affirm him.  

"And I'm glad you told us about the path, too, Grandma. And the tree."  He thinks for a moment.  "You showing me about the secret path and the tree is sort of like me showing my friends at school the story of Jesus!"

"Yes, God wants us to share the news of salvation, of His great love for us!  That makes me think of one more song, which is a good one to end our summer's journey in the Land of Abundant Living  before you return home and go back to school.  It's a song my mother . . . your great-grandmother  . . used to sing often . . . 'I love to Tell The Story":

"I love to tell the story of unseen things above, 

Of Jesus and His glory, Of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, because I know it's true.

It satisfies my longing as nothing else could do.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful it seems

Than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams.

I love to tell the story; it did so much for me.

And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.

I love to tell the story; 'tis pleasant to repeat

What seems each time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet.

I love to tell the story, for some have never heard

the message of salvation from God's own holy Word.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best

Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it, like the rest.

And when in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song, 

'Twill be the old, old story, that I have loved so long."

PLEASE COME ALONG WITH ME NEXT WEEK WHEN I START MY NEW SERIES IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING!   WE'RE GOING TO RUN ACROSS SOME ROAD BLOCKS AND DISCOVER HOW TO COPE WITH THEM.

KEY SB#15: "Return to the Little, White Church"

"Grandma!  I want to go back to the little, old, white church in the woods.  Can we, please?" Big C, my  seven-year-old grandson, asks with an expectant smile on his face.

"Me, too!" exclaims his two-year-old brother, Little c.  "Me pway organ!"
"I think that's a great way to end our fabulous summer adventure together in the Land of Abundant Life!"  I respond with enthusiasm.  "Soon I'll have to bring you back home to Mommy and Daddy and then you will start school again, Big C."
(NOTE:  If you want to read about our previous adventures this summer, please see the archives on the right side of my blog.)
We climb back into my little, lavender vehicle and start up the long, gravel one-car road that has grass growing through the middle of it.  This time, Little c spots the church first.  "There it is, Gamma!  I see it!"  He claps his tiny hands with glee.
"And there is the graveyard that our great-grandma used to study her Bible with her friends," points out Big C as we drive by it slowly on our way to the church.

When the car stops, both boys race me to the church and fling open the heavy double doorway.
Inside, we are once again struck quiet with wonder and awe of the respectful dignity of the chapel.  That is, until Little c spots the ancient organ and runs to climb on the stool.

Little c begins to play a tune that sounds vaguely familiar to me.
"I like the altar," Big C shares important knowledge, "That is where the pastor tells the people about what's in God's Word, the Bible."

'That is very true, Big C," I affirm him.  "The best thing about church is learning about God and getting to know Him better."
Intrigued, I start to hum along with the melody Little is playing.
"OH," my face lights up, "now I remember that song.  It's called 'The Little Brown Church in the Wildwood.'  I sang that song many times when I was a child in country school.  The words starts to flow from my mouth as my grandsons join in:
'There's a church in the valley by the wildwood;
No lovelier church in the dale.
No place is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the vale."
"That's a nice song, Grandma, but this church is white," points out Big C.
"I know, but this church is also in a woods, and it is small and very special to my heart.  My own church was special to me, too, as a child, because that is one place that I learned about God.  I am so glad that you go to church with your Mommy and Daddy to hear God's Word.  Let's sing it again as the 'little, white church by the wildwood."
At the finish of the chorus, I have a suggestion to make.  "Now that we have seen the church, there is one more secret place that I want to take you.  We are going to go deep into the woods behind the church so I can show you something interesting.  
"Hold Grandma's hand, Little c, and let's all go look for the hidden path in between the trees. . . "

PLEASE JOIN ME NEXT WEEK AS WE FINISH OUR SUMMER ADVENTURE WITH AN EXPLORATION OF THE WOODS SURROUNDING THE LITTLE, WHITE CHURCH!

KEY #SB1: "DO YOU DARE?"

"I dare you to jump off the rock!"  Seven-year-old Big C shouts at his little brother, stretching out his arms to catch Little c safely when he jumps.
The two-year-old had climbed onto a large stone, though merely a couple of feet high, in the park where we had stopped for a snack and story on our summer trip through the Land of Abundant Living.
Without hesitation, Little c jumps and both boys roll over in the grass with the impact of the fall.  Neither is hurt and they stand up, laughing as they brush themselves off.
I laugh, too, and praise Big C for his good catch.
"Come here, boys," I beckon to them.  They come and settled themselves next to their proud Grandma, one on each side.  I snuggle them and suggest, "Let's sing the chorus of the Daniel song again."
Three voices sing the catchy tune in unison:
      "Dare to be a Daniel;
        Dare to stand a-looone.
        Dare to have a purpose
        A-and dare to make it known."
"What does it mean to 'take a dare?" I asked.
"Jump!"  said Little c.
I laughed.  "This time it did," I replied.  "What do you think, Big C?"
He squishes his eyebrows together and gives the question some thought.  "Well, when somebody dares you to do something, it means you have to have courage and take a chance."
"Is it always wise to take a dare?"
He shakes his head.  "Sometimes it's dangerous.  I know you mustn't take a chance to do dangerous stuff.  But then," he hesitates and looks up at me.  "you might look like a coward."
"That's a risk, too, isn't it?" I ask him.  "Looking like a coward?"
He nods.
"So you have to weigh the risks and see which risk is better to take, right?"
"Yes, Grandma."
"It may be better to look like a coward than to do something foolish and hurt yourself or someone else?"
Both boys nod.
"Me careful," Little c solemnly shakes his head .  "Me no want to hurt me."
"That's good, Little c.  So why do you think Daniel was willing to disobey the king's command and go into the lion's den?" I asked.
Big C answered right away, "Because he knew God had more power than the king!"
"That's right, and he also knew that even if he died, he'd go to be with God forever, but if he turned away from God he would go to hell forever.  So he made the right decision."
"Daniel stood alone, just like the song says!"Big C noted.
"Yes.  Do you boys have the courage to stand alone if your friends want you to do something with them that you know it wrong?" I asked.
"I hope so," Big C says dubiously.  "If I am strong enough."
"How can do you get strong enough?"
His face brightens.  "I can ask God to help me.  He has the power."
"God help me be stwong," exclaimed Little c.  "I open da twunk!"  (NOTE TO READER: YOU CAN REFER TO ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT TO READ ABOUT THE TRUNK!)
"That is so true!  And God is happy to give us the courage when we want to obey Him.
"What do you think the song means by "Dare to have a purpose and dare to make it known?"
Silence for thinking time.
"A purpose. . . " Big C turned this question over in his mind. . . " is something important I need to do.  Right, Grandma?"
"It can be," I nod.  "It can also be a motivation, a reason we have to work for a good cause or help
somebody."
"What is your purpose, Grandma?"
"I have many, Big C.  I want to be a good grandma.  I work for an organization that helps save babies' lives.  I write and travel to tell people about Jesus."
"I tell my friends about God," said Big C.
"That is a very good purpose!" I acknowledged.  "And like the song says, sometimes it takes courage to make our purpose known.  Because some people may disagree with us and even make fun of us for carrying out our purpose.  But if we keep our purpose a secret, then we can't carry it out!  We always need to consider the "dare" and decide whether it is more important to do what is right and obey God or let other people tell us what to do and loose our self-respect."  
"Me dare do good!" Little c beams at me.
"Oh, my precious grand-boys!"  I hugged them close and prayed silently, "Father God, help them always to have the courage to do what is right, whatever it takes!"  I thought a moment and added, "And me, too Father.  Give me the courage to stand alone for the purposes You give me."

*ONE MORE SUMER ADVENTURE WITH THE BOYS AND THEN WE'LL DISCOVER SOME ROADBLOCKS IN THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIVING AND DISCUSS HOW TO DEAL WITH THEM!

KEY #SB13: THE VICTORIOUS ROCK

On the road again, with my grandsons and I belted in safely (even in the Land of Abundant Living, we need to follow safety rules),  Little c, the two-year-old, asks Grandma to play his CD.
"Certainly," I reply, pushing in the kids' favorite CD with Jesus Praise Songs.  After singing along to several melodies, we come to my favorite, "Dare to be a Daniel."  When the song ends, I turn the music off.
"Why are you stopping the music, Grandma?" asks seven-year-old Big C.
Little c goes on singing as though nothing had happened, "Dare to be a Daniel; Dare to stand a-looone . . . "
"I want to tell you a story."  Little c stops singing in mid-stanza at the thought.
"Here's a pretty little park.  Let's stop the car and have a snack with our story."
When we are settled on the ground with the bright sun shining on us and the soft breeze ruffling our hair, I pass out baggies of grapes and granola bars and begin.
"You both have heard the story of Daniel in the Lion's Den."  Two heads nod intently as they munch their juicy grapes.
"Well," I continue, "You know then that Daniel was a young man who had so much trust in God that he wouldn't give up his faith as the king commanded.  So the king threw him into the hungry lion's den,   but God closed the mouths of the lions and saved Daniel's life."  Two heads nodded again.
"Now when Daniel grew older, King Nebuchadnezzar asked him to describe a dream the king had and tell him what the dream meant.  Now Daniel, of course, couldn't do either one of those things by himself, but God told Daniel the dream and explained the meaning for him so he could share it with the king.
"This is the dream:  The king saw an enormous statue made of gold, silver, bronze, iron and baked clay.  Then a Rock was cut out by God and struck the statue, breaking it to pieces and sweeping away the chaff with the wind.  Next, the Rock became a huge mountain and filled the whole earth."
"Wow!  That sounds scary!" said Big C.
"Wok dis big!"  Little c stretched out his chubby arms as far as he could reach.
"Well, it was even much bigger than that, Little c.  And it did worry the king so he had trouble sleeping.  So Daniel told the king the meaning of the dream, too.  Each of the metals represented a certain kingdom that would appear and rule at a future time."
"God know tomorrow?" Little c's eyes grew large.
"Yes, Sweetie, God knows everything about yesterday and tomorrow.  He is very smart."
"I think I know what the big Rock is!  Is it Jesus?" guessed Big C.
 "Excellent guess, Big C!  Yes, the Rock that broke the last kingdom and filled the whole earth is God's own kingdom with King Jesus Christ as the ruler.  You see, when the time for the other kingdoms to have power is over and Jesus comes back to earth, He will set up a new kingdom that will never be destroyed and will last forever!"
"I want to be in God's Kingdom!" said Big C.
"Me, too," Little c agreed.
"So when I hear this song about Daniel, I remember that story of the Rock."
"That's the same Rock we talked about at the lake," said Big C.
"Yes, it is.  Please sing the Daniel song with me again."
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK . . . .

KEY SB#11: CLOUDS & CREATION

"I think we need a break," I anounce, yawning and stretching my arms.  "It's such a beautiful day.  Let's go outside and get some sunshine and fresh air."
Both grandsons race me to the doorway of the little country church.  Once outside, two-year-old Little c  jumps and prances like a young calf just let loose from his stall.
"Tag!" he shouts.  "Me it!"
*NOTE FOR NEWCOMERS TO MY BLOG:  I am taking my grandsons for a tour in the Land of Abundant Life this summer.  We are now visiting an old country church that sits near my childhood home.  For more background, please check the archives on the right side.
His older brother,  Big C, laughs.  "You'll have a tough time catching me!"  He takes off like the stream from a water pistol.
"I get Gamma," Little c tags me and I turn around and chase Big C. After about fifteen minutes of constant motion, I collapse on a soft grassy spot on the lawn next to the peaceful church graveyard, panting heavily.
Big C throws his body down next to me and Little c does likewise.  The three of us stretch out on our backs, hands behind our heads for pillows.
"What do you see, Grandma?" Big C asks, "up there in the clouds?"
We gaze intently at the shapes of fluffy, white clouds drifting across a clear, blue sky.
"Me see a bear," Little c sits up and points with delight.  "Dere!"  He nods with satisfaction.  "Wike my teddy."
"Yes!" Big C agrees.  "Do you see him, Grandma?"
"I do.  The big cloud in the middle, right?"
"Yup!  And over there, on the right, do you see the monkey face?"
Little c squints.  "Donno."
"I think so," I respond dubiously.  "Do you know something?  I just thought of a song I learned when I was a teen-ager."  I began to sing:
"Cotton candy clouds so fluffy and white.
Who put them there in a sky of deep blue?
Or do you just happen to float along, 
Pretty and white in a sky so blue?
Mountain, deep valley, fast river, cool stream,
Show grandeur and majesty in some grand scheme.
All of these wonders that we behold, 
Are only a part, it cannot be told,
Master Designer, who ever you are, all of this beauty both near and afar
Can't just have happened; the odds are too great,
There must be a plan, we're not left to fate.
All of this beauty is far too convincing
Master Designer, your word must be true,
Of all your creations man is the dearest,
Help me to simply believe now in You."
"I know God made the clouds, Grandma," says Big C, jumping up, excitedly.  "God made everything!"  He reaches his arms out as far as he can and twirls around.  Little c jumps up and joins him in twirling.
"I see cotton candy clouds!" he shouts with glee.
They stop twirling and land beside me.  We sit together in silence for a moment until Big C thinks of a question.  "The Bible says God made the whole world in only six days.  But some scientists say that's not true.  What do you think, Grandma?"
"Well, Big C, if the Bible says it's true, it is, because God cannot lie.  Scientists are always discovering more facts that support the Bible."
"But one of my friends told me that a day in God's time isn't just 24 hours, like our days."
"Here, look at what it says in Genesis 1:3-5, the first book of the Bible."  I reach over for my Bible that we had laid previously on a gravestone when we had our picnic discussion.  "Then God said, 'Let there be light'; and there was light.  And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.  And God called the light day, and the darkness He called night.  And there was evening and there was morning, one day.'
"You see, boys, God made the first day to be the time when the sun shone between the darkness.  The time He set into place when He created the earth, based on the motion of the sun and moon in a 24-hour period, is the very same time schedule that we still use.  And He says that He created the earth and everything in it in six days and rested on the seventh day.
"In verses 16-18, God tells us He made the sun and moon to "govern the day and the night."  It is very important to remember that God is able to do anything He wants to do.  Nothing is too hard for Him and everything He tells us in His Word is true."
Big C nods in agreement.  "Yes, I see, Grandma.  I love God."
"I know you do, Sweetie."
"Me, too, Gamma!"
I put my arms around both of my precious grandsons and we squeeze into a group hug!

KEY #SB10: THE B-I-B-L-E

"Now, where did I put that blue songbook?"  I look around the room and laugh.  My youngest grandson, two-year-old Little c, has begun to stack the old hymn and gospel songbooks like a tower.
"Here is it, Grandma," says Big C.  "On the bottom of my brother's tower.  Oh, dear."  He starts to gently tug at the favored book.
"My tow-er!"  Huge tear drops form in the eyes of Little c's anguished face.  He grabs the precious book and holds on tight.
The incident shows promise of becoming our first conflict since I brought the boys to show them the old country church by my childhood home.  (*NOTE FOR NEWCOMERS TO MY BLOG:  If you check the archives on the right side, you can read about the previous adventures!)
"Little c," I rush over and kneel down beside my grandsons.  "I think it's time to play one of your favorite songs on the old pedal organ.  Don't you think so?"
Little c thinks a moment.  "Yes," he says.  I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Good," I respond.  "The song is in this book, here on the bottom of the pile.  Let's lift the other books off carefully and set them aside.  Then we can play the song."
"Okay."
Together, we set the other books out of the way.
"What is your favorite song, Little c?" asks Big C.
Little c shakes his head.  "Don't know."  He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.
"Come and sit on the organ with me and let's play it," I tell the boys.
"My turn to play the organ?" Big C asks.
"Yes, go ahead."
Big C takes the preferred spot in the middle of the organ bench.  His feet are long enough to reach the pedals, so Little c and I sit on each side, like bookends.  Big C starts to play and we all sing.
"The B-I-B-L-E.
Yes! That's the book for me.
I stand alone on the Word of God.
The B-I-B-L-E!"
Suddenly, Little c grabs the book from the organ rack, puts it on the floor and steps proudly on top.
"No, Little c, you can't step on a book!" his older brother protests.
"Song says 'stand on'!"Little c stubbornly stiffens his whole body, crossing his arms.  Such determination; not even a big semi-truck would cause him to budge!
Big C laughs.  I smile, wondering how to explain this concept to a two-year-old.
I needn't have worried.  Big C leans down to his little brother.  "That's not what the song means, Little c," he speaks gently.  "The song talks about the Bible, God's Word, not the song book!  But we don't really put our feet on top of it.  It means that the Bible is the best book in the whole world and it's just like we put our whole lives on top of it."
Little c looks doubtful, but steps off the book.
I take Little c in my arms and cuddle him.  "Big C, you said that exactly right.  When we put our trust in God, we stake our whole lives on His goodness and His love for us.  The precious book that God wrote, the Bible, is the only way that we can find out the honest truth about how the world was made and why we are here and how God wants us to live."
"But how did God write the book?" Big C raises questioning eyes to me.
"God told forty different people who lived on three different continents to write His Holy Book in three different languages  They wrote down the words God's Holy Spirit put into their minds.
"It took many, many hundreds of years to finish writing the Bible.  And, in spite of that, the whole Bible story fits together perfectly from beginning to end, sort of like a puzzle shows the whole picture when you put all the pieces together.  That is one way we know that only God could have written it!  Without knowing God's Word, all people are helpless in this life.  That is why it is so important to read our Bibles every day and tell others about God and where to find the truth."
"Let's sing it again," Big C starts to sing with abandon and Little c and I join in willingly.

PLEASE JOIN US NEXT WEEK AS WE EXPLORE A BIT OF NATURE AND I SHARE A SONG I LEARNED AS A TEEN-AGER!

KEY #SB8: THE TREASURE CHEST

"I can't get it open, Grandma!" Big C, my seven-year-old grandson, sounded exasperated.
"Here, let me help," I quickly knelt by his side and together we tugged on the rusty latch on the treasure chest we'd found in the old country church.  Sadly, I shook my head.  "Maybe it will have to wait until we get a strong man to help us."
Little c, the two-year-old brother of Big C, stepped to my side and slowly began to tug on the stubborn latch.  To our amazement, the metal cover began to rise.  Big C and I regarded Little c with awe and he proudly beamed.
"I stwong," Little c stated solemnly and matter-of-factly.
*NOTE TO NEWCOMERS:  I AM TAKING A ROAD TRIP THROUGH THE LAND OF ABUNDANT LIFE THIS SUMMER WITH MY GRANDSONS.  IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT OUR JOURNEY, PLEASE SEE THE ARCHIVES ON THE RIGHT.
Big C started digging hastily through the piles inside.  "It's only books, Grandma," he sounded disappointed.  "I like books but I thought we'd find something . . . " he fished for a word. . . "more."
I have to admit visions of gold coins and jewelry swam around in my head for a few moments.  After all, what would you expect to find in a treasure chest?
But Little c reached into the chest, grabbed a book and held it up to me.  "Weed, Gamma, weed," he urged.
I took the book from his hands and started to page through it.  "Oh, this is an old song book," I said.
Placing it down carefully on the floor, I began to sort through the other volumes.
"These contain songs that I have sung many times since I was a young girl," I remarked.  "Hymns and gospel songs."
"Him?  Her?" Little c asked.
I laughed and hugged him.  "Some of the old songs are called 'hymns.' Today we mostly sing praise songs in church, and I love singing them with my Christian sisters and brothers.  I think, when we do that with thankful hearts, we give God joy!
"And I enjoy these hymns very much, too."
"But if they are so old," Big C pondered, "maybe they're not much use any more.  We throw away lots of old stuff."
"Would you throw away your grandma?" I asked with a twinkle in my eye.
"Oh, no!  I love you, Grandma!"  He threw his arms around me.
"I know you wouldn't, honey.  You see, some things wear out when they get old and, you are right, they are not of much use.  But people, if they love God, can get better and wiser as they age even though their bodies are wearing out.
"It's the same with music.  Just because the old hymn books are worn, that doesn't mean the songs are not still useful.
"We can 'enjoy the new, but keep the old.  One is silver and the other gold'. . . hmm, I don't think I have that poem quite right, but it is still true in this case."
I examined another book and sighed, "Oh my.  I have so many memories tied up with these songs."
"Tell us, Grandma, about your memories," Big C begged.
"Mem-o-wes?  Tied up?"  Little c looked around, probably expecting to discover another box with a rope tied around it.
"They're like stories," Big C explained to his little brother.  " 'cept they really happened."
"Me wike stories."  Little c nodded expectantly.
"The name of this song, " I answered him.  "is "Holy, Holy, Holy."  Did you know that every single Sunday when I was a child and teen-ager, we sang this song first of all every Sunday morning at church?"
Both of my grandsons shook their heads solemnly.
"Mostly now," I continued,   "I like to sing different songs each week because there are so many of them that are good for us to sing.  But when I was young, singing this song every Sunday reminded me how awesome God is . . . remember we sang "Awesome God" earlier?"
They both nodded.
"It also helped me remember how fortunate I was to be able to have a relationship with my heavenly Daddy because of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross.  Sometimes I would walk into church on Sunday feeling sad about something, but singing this song made me feel thankful and happy."
"Awesome God' makes me know that God has enough power to take care of me," said Big C.  "Lots more power than Superman!  And God is very real, too!  Superman is just made up. But I want to learn your song, too, Grandma!"
"Me, too, Gamma!"
"Let's take it to the organ and see if we can play it," I said, rising to my feet and leading the way.

"Holy, holy, holy!  Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy!  merciful and mighty!
God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy!  all the saints adore Thee!
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
Holy, holy, holy!  though the darkness hide Thee!
Tho' the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity."

PLEASE CONTINUE TO JOIN US WEEKLY AS WE "EXPLORE" SONGS THAT GOD USES TO TOUCH OUR LIVES! 

KEY SB#7: THE OLD PEDAL ORGAN

"That was a great picnic lunch, Grandma!" Big C rubbed his full tummy.
Little c smiled with satisfaction and rubbed his tummy, too. "I wike stwawbewies."
We approached the big double wooden doors of the little country church that stands only a couple of miles from the lake where I grew up.
"It's a Swedish church," I explained as I pushed the doors open with the help of two eager boys.
"Is my church Swedish, Grandma?" asked Big C.
"Swe dis?"  Little c looked puzzled.
"Well, it just means that people who came to this country way across the ocean from the land of Sweden started this church to worship God together.  When I was a child, services weren't held here anymore except for once every summer and then the Swedish language was still spoken for the service."
"Did you go then, Grandma?" asked Big C.
"No,  since we couldn't understand the language.  My family came from Norway.  But we like to come here every now and then just because it is a special place and honors God."
The boys walked around slowly and respectfully, inspecting the antique, wooden pews and the simple pastor's podium.
Suddenly, Little c ran to the old organ with a beaming smile on his face.
"A piano!" he shouted.  "Me pway it, Gamma?"
"Of course," I smiled.  "Just be very careful with it."
He nodded and climbed up on the bench, patting the seat next to him.  I sat down on one side and Big C squished in on the other side of his little brother.  Little c pressed some notes but no sound came out.  He looked up at me, frustrated.
"This is an organ, not a piano," I explained.  "And it won't make a sound unless the pedals are pushed.
The boys looked down to the pedals.
"Feet don't go," Little c was trying hard to stretch his chubby legs to the floor.
Big C quickly knelt down on the floor and began to push the two large pedals alternately with vigor.
"Now try it, Little c," he spoke with encouragement.
When Little c pressed the next note,  a tuneful sound was heard and his mouth opened wide in amazement.
"Tank oo," he told his kind and helpful brother.
"As Little c continued to play, the notes began to turn into real praise songs that we recognized, and when Big C took a break from pedal-pushing, the organ continued to play!
"I didn't know Little c could play real songs," Big C said with awe.
"Well, remember Boys, we are in the Land of Abundant Living!" I said.  "Strange and wonderful things can happen here!"
We started to sing the words which all came easily to our minds, even to Little c's.
We went from song to song, without a pause:
"Shine, Jesus, shine; fill this land with the Fa-ther's glory!"  Big C's face shown with delight.
"How majestic is Your Name in all the earth!" I sang with power.
"Grandma, I've never heard you sing so good!" exclaimed Big C.
"Remember, this is the Land of Abundant Life," I reminded him again.
Little c blasted out the words of praise, "He is ex-awe-ted!  The King is ex-awe-ted on hi!  I pwai-ai-sse Him!"
Together we finished with "I could sing of Your love forever!" Then, a refreshed quiet settled on our little group.
"Grandma," Big C looked up at me.  "This is just like real church!  We sing those songs in our church!"
"Yes, Big C.  This is what church is.  Today we studied our Bible together while we had our picnic lunch and now we are worshipping God together.
"Having church is God's people getting together to learn about God and worship Him."
"Pway." Little c contributed.
"Yes, that is very important, too, Little c."  We bowed our heads and each talked to God.
Opening his eyes, Big C spotted something in the corner that had gone unnoticed until now.
"It's a treasure chest!" he exclaimed.  Both boys ran to see what was in it.  I couldn't recall ever having seen it here before.  "But,"  I reminded myself with a smile, "this is, of course, the Land of Abundant Life.  Strange and wonderful things can happen here."

Please join us next week as we find out what is in the Treasure Chest!

KEY #SB6: THE OLD COUNTRY CHURCH

Back to a road trip adventure in the Land of Abundant Life!  Today I left the park and picked up my precious grandsons, 7-year-old Big C and 2-year-old Little c.  Since Big C is out of school for the summer, his mommy and daddy graciously agreed that I could take them with me for a journey.
We're on our way now to the old country church that still stands a couple of miles from the lake where I grew up.
As I turn into the long, gravel driveway, Big C spots the small, white building with its steeple pointing to heaven.
"There it is, Grandma!" he proudly claims discovery.
"I see, too, Gamma!" Little c joins in, excitedly.  Of course, neither of them knows yet why they are excited.  Only that they are on a trip of discovery with Grandma!
"Oh, look, Grandma, a graveyard," Big C whispers, suddenly turning solemn.
Little c looks perplexed.  "Gaveyard bad?" he asks.
"No, not at all.  Come with me.  We'll be careful not to step on any of the graves, out of respect."
"We-spek." Little c nods vigorously, smiling again because he sees Grandma is not afraid.
"When I was just a little girl," I take hole of his pudgy little hand and begin to explain, "my mommy took me to another graveyard every spring and I helped her put flowers on the gravestones of some of our family members who had died.  She always told me that we don't have to be afraid of graveyards because we know Jesus as our Savior.    When we die, Jesus will take us to Heaven to live with Him where we will be happy forever!  So I liked going with her to visit the graves because I knew Jesus promised to come and get me later and He always keeps His promises."
I sat down on the green grass and the boys sat next to me.  I put one arm around each of them.  "Jesus tells us in the Bible, 'In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.
'And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."
"Jesus is my best friend!" said Big C.  "I tell my friends about Him and bring my Bible to school to show them."
"Me, too!"  echoed Little c.  "I weed BiBo."
"That's wonderful," I hugged my grandsons.  "Want to know something?"
"Sure!"
"Sur!"
"When we lived by the lake, my mother . . . your great-grandmother . . . used to come here sometimes in the summer with her friends and they would have a picnic in the graveyard and study their Bibles there together."
"Can we do that?" asked Big C.
"Certainly!  Please go and get my Bible and the picnic basket out of the back seat in the car.  After we eat, we'll explore the inside of the church."

Glad you came along for the ride, my friends.  Hope to see you again next week when we find out what's inside the church!

KEY # SB5: THE WORLD IS MINE!

I found the poem!  I've been searching for it and praying to find it for some time now, so I decided that today must be the appropriate time to print it!  Last week's blog was on a "New Song"  and I am continuing on with the theme of praise.
My mother posted this poem on the wall in our kitchen when was growing up, and I think of it every now and then when I am tempted to sink into the Dangerous Mire of the Malady of Discontent.
How can I ever, in this wonderful Land of Abundant Living, submit myself to such a disastrous state?

"The World is Mine" by Unknown Author  (I changed one word because the modern meaning has a different connotation than it did when this poem was composed.)
Today upon a bus, I saw a lovely maid with golden hair.
I envied her, she seemed so free;
I wished that I might be as fair.
And then, when suddenly she rose to leave,
I saw her hobble down the aisle.
She had one foot and wore a crutch
But as she passed, a smile.
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine!
I have two feet; the world is mine!

And when I stopped to buy some sweets
The lad who sold them had such charm
That when he gave my change to me
I gently grasped his out-stretched arm.
I talked to him and told him that
His smile had brightened up my mind.
He said to me, "It's nice to talk with you.
You see," he meekly said, "I'm blind."
Oh God, forgive me when I whine!  
I have two eyes; the world is mine!


Then walking down the street I saw a
Little boy with eyes of blue.
He stood and watched the others play;
It seemed he knew not what to do.
I stopped a moment and then I said,
"Why don't you join the others, dear?"
He looked ahead without a word;
And then I knew he could not hear.
Oh God, forgive me when I whine!  
I have two ears; the world is mine!

With feet to take me where I go
With eyes to see the sun aglow
With ears to hear what I want to know
Oh God forgive me when I whine!
I'm blessed indeed; the world is mine!


Please join me next week when I pick up my two grandsons for an adventurous ride through the Land of Abundant Living!

KEY #SB2: MY DADDY'S DAY

My daddy moved to Heaven eleven years ago on May 25, 2001.  I still miss him dearly and would give anything for one more of his strong and tender hugs.  The reason I am writing about him this week of our country's annual Memorial Day celebration is because for many years, I have associated that holiday with my father.  He was a godly man who lived the Christian life before me every day, modeling for me and helping me to understand the character and faithfulness of my heavenly Father.
Daddy had great difficulty hearing as he grew older and his church did not have good acoustics, so he couldn't hear the sermons very well.  But every Sunday in the summer, beginning Memorial Day weekend, his church would have a service at Sibley State Park, located west of New London, Minnesota.  In the close, open atmosphere, he was able to hear every word of the of the scripture message and the singing.
I had other memories of the park also.  As a child, I had camped there with my cousins and attended Bible camp on the shores of Lake Andrew (also my dad's name, by the way, though the lake was not named after him!)  In fact, our youngest son, J, was nearly born there!  (But that's another story.  :))
Buried somewhere in my house is a big dark blue book that contains some of the history of Sibley State Park.  Of course, I couldn't it find today, but I remember Daddy showing me a passage in the book that tells of the influence of his father, Ole, along with another resident known by my grandfather, who were instrumental in working to obtain permission from the state of Minnesota to purchase land for the park setting and to establish it in 1919.  So this preserve was meaningful to my father, personally.
Since I'm doing a series on Songs and Birds, I recall with fondness the opening song that was sung at every Sunday morning service at Sibley Park.  My family often stayed with my parents in their home on a nearby lake in the summers, and would attend the park service with them on Sundays.  The opening song was "This Is My Father's World."  It was written by a presbyterian minister, Maltbie D. Babcock, who was born in Syracuse, NY, in 1858.  When he would leave his home for a walk along the shores of Lake Ontario, Babcock would tell others, "I'm going out to see my Father's world."  Hence, the title for the poem he wrote that was published after his death in 1901, "Thoughts for Everyday Living."
His granddaughter, Mary Babcock Crawford, wrote the second stanza in 1972.
The beautiful park setting by the shores of Lake Andrew was a perfect environment for the words of this hymn and the accompaniment of the birds in the background added to the melodic delight. 
"This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world, 
He shines in all that's fair;
in rustling grass I hear Him pass.
He speaks to me everywhere. 
This is my Father's world;
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is Kind; let the heaven's ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad."
This special song expresses trust and faith in the Father's provision and the knowledge that all of creation is His own handiwork.  His kingly authority is over all!
Whenever I sing this song, it brings to mind caring and faithful memories of my heavenly Father . . . and also my earthly father.
Next week, we'll share lessons from the birds.

KEY #SB1: SONG BIRDS AND OUR GOOSE FAMILY

I love everything about spring, especially when new life pops up all around me and exploding colors dazzle my eyes:  blooming tulips and irises, bright green leaves, sparkling blue waters of the pond in our back yard and uniquely clothed birds of all kinds that frolic in our bird bath.  The scent of lilacs envelopes me with pure contentment when I sit on our deck and gaze out at our yard and pond.
I love going to sleep with the windows open to feel the rush of fresh breezes and hear God's orchestra serenade me to sleep and call me in the morning to the adventures of a brand new day.  An enormous chorus of frogs living in the ponds sings me to sleep, and the neighbor's roaster wakes me at daybreak.  I listen for a second or two to his arrogant call, then promptly ignore his brash command and go back to sleep.  When I re-awaken at a decent time, the birds have begun their thrilling melody which continues all day long.
Have you ever noticed the unique harmony of God's orchestra?  I remember when my son, K, played the violin in his school orchestra, we would always drop him off early and be treated (?) to the discordant noise of all the students practicing and tuning their individual instruments.  The awful sound made me seriously wonder if the concert would be worth our time.  But when the musicians paraded onto the stage and seated themselves in proper order, and the conductor raised his wand, a magic moment resulted.  Every piece fitted into its place in the whole composition and a beautiful entrancing melody arose from the earlier confusion.
Isn't it amazing how God conducts His orchestra?  I hear the sounds all day long from dozens of different birds, all singing their own particular tune and yet the resulting music never sounds discordant! Their combined melody is always perfectly pleasant and enchanting to my ears.  How does God do it?
I want to be a part of God's orchestra.  I want to "sing" my own particular tune that God put in my heart in a way that honors Him . . . to go through life day by day praising Him for His care and goodness.  Father, make my "life melody" a joy to Your ears and help me to be an encouragement   to others so they will only hear pleasant "music" from me, rather than discordant sounds.
Today, I will begin a summer series on Songbirds . . . or rather "Songs and Birds" and how God speaks to us through both.  
We have one goose family residing in our pond that we believe made their summer home with us last year, too.  My husband, Gary, is somewhat of an authority on nature, with birds a particular interest.  And, although he is getting more and more hard of hearing, his eyesight amazes me!  He calls me to look out at a bird hundreds of yards away.  I can barely make out that it is a bird, and yet he can tell me what specific bird it is, and all about its habits that he has meticulously observed.  I get running updates on our little goose family during the day. Did you know that geese mate for life?  One male and one female begins their "marriage" and stays together.  Mommy Goose (not Mother Goose) sat patiently on her nest for weeks.  Although Gary told me she had a daily habit of leaving her nest early in the morning (while I was still in bed) and take a dip in the pond, preen her feathers for a while (here he would give me a pointed look, knowing I could identify with this bit of daily feminine vanity.)   Then back to her "work" while Daddy Goose skirted the perimeters of their habitat home to ward off any possible danger.  I'd hear of Daddy's courageous escapades which involved chasing away predators from Mommy and their precious developing bird babies.  Once Daddy Goose got carried away with his defensive duties and invaded another bird home only to get chased back himself!
How exciting when the time arrived, just a week before Mother's Day, as four tiny yellow balls of fluff were observed staggering and stumbling in the grasses by the side of the pond!  Then they disappeared for a while and we grew concerned for their safety.  But Gary decided Mommy Goose was hiding them until they grew larger and more competent.  Eventually they returned to swim, "file style" on the clear waters.  Once he told me the baby geese were swimming on one pond and Mommy and Daddy were in the other pond, honking wildly at each other.  I can imagine their conversation:  "I thought you were looking after the little ones!"  "I thought that was your job today!  Where are they?!  Go find them!!!"
Another morning, I arose to find Gary excited about a near disaster.  One rebelliously independent, tiny ball of fluff had been spotted slowly and with difficulty making its way up the hill towards our house, evidently unobserved by its parent geese.  But observed by our dog, Krissa, who is typically a very sweet, quiet, gentle and well-behaved member of our household.  However . . . she is by instinct a good bird dog.  Fortunately Gary was able to distract Krissa while the tiny fluff ball maneuvered its way cautiously back down the hill to safety.  Whew!
That's enough "bird talk" for today.
Please join me next week as I observe Memorial Day in a unique, personal way. . . 

KEY #H4: HELPFUL HOSPITALITY HINTS

Looking for some helpful hospitality hints?  I've asked some friends for suggestions that worked for them when entertaining guests.  It was interesting to notice that the Golden Rule kept coming up in our conversations in various ways.  "Therefore, however you want people to treat you, so treat them, for this is the Law and the Prophets."  Matthew 7:12.  Or paraphrased, as many of us learned it, "Do unto others the way you want them to do unto you."  After all, isn't that what having good manners is all about?  Showing love and consideration to others by treating them the way we would want to be treated?  It's amazing how following that very simple rule automatically takes care of a host of hospitality questions!  For example . . .
Question:  What should I feed my guests?  Answer:  Ask them if they have any food allergies or preferences.
Question:  What theme should I choose for my party?  Answer:  Think about the interests of your guests and pull those interests into a theme.
Question:  Where should I seat my guests at the table?  Answer:  Consider my guests' personalities, if they would prefer to sit by someone they feel comfortable with or make a new friend.
God's Word is so practical for all circumstances, isn't it?
Let's get on with the tips!  After contacting several friends, here is the gist of what they suggested.  Some overlap, so I tried to minimize repetitions.
"A fun idea," says Tina, "to make your overnight guests feel welcome is to have a basket in the bathroom with little toothpastes, hotel soaps, shampoo, etc.  Also, a mint on their pillow when they open up their bed for the first time is so fun!" (Personal tip from Linda:  Great idea, Tina!  Although if you have a dog that climbs on beds, you may want to close their bedroom door!  Dogs aren't supposed to eat chocolate, you know. :o) )
Bonnie suggests, "I leave their clean bath linens on their freshly made bed before they arrive. Also, I make sure Kleenexes are plentiful."
Rose, a hostess whose overnight hospitality I have personally enjoyed on many occasions, shares the following:  "When someone stays overnight in your home, put yourself in their place (Notice the Golden Rule here?).  If they wake up during the night, is there going to be enough light from a street light so they can tell where they are?  It's often confusing to wake up in a strange house.  Keep a couple of night lights handy to plug in when you have company, even if you don't need them yourself.  We are fortunate to have two bathrooms.  When we get company, we use the one in the basement and let our guests have the main bathroom next to their bedroom.  It's handier for them to have their own space to spread out into.  Keep an eye on the toilet paper supply.  We have friends who keep an extra roll in a little basket in plain sight.  Little things go a long way. "
Rose continues, "People are more important than things.  Usually overnight guests are not coming to inspect your home.  They are there to see YOU!   So be yourself, get a good night's rest so you can enjoy your company without being tired.  What you don't get done, chances are they'll never notice.  If you didn't get that special dessert baked for them, take out the pail of ice cream; they'll be none the wiser.  (Tip from Linda:  Ice cream makes a great treat for drop in guests, too!  Purchase vanilla and keep several toppings on hand.)
The first thing Donna said was also "I put myself in their place" (Again notice the Golden Rule!).  I want them to have all the comforts of home and not have to ask for them. " She mentioned many of the same things others have already said and then gave me additional suggestions of things to have handy for overnight guests.
Donna keeps a drawer in the guest bedroom that contains an assortment items that may be needed including a hair dryer, heating pad, shoeshine, lotions, toothbrushes and toothpaste, aspirin.  Bottled water and drinking glasses are available and she places a bowl of fruit for snacking.  She also suggested that a min-fridge would be a great idea for the guest room!
Deb, the hostess for a party I recently attended, had a delicious and creative, yet simple menu plan.  The entree she served was called "Tropical Mountain" and it truly was a mountain (at least it was on my plate! :0) ), heaped with yummy food.  Set up a help-yourself bar in this order:  lettuce, bag of Fritos corn chips (crushed), refried beans, rice (optional) ground beef cooked with taco seasoning (this she had on the stove; you could use an electric heating plate), onions, shredded cheddar cheese, chopped tomatoes, black olives, pineapple chunks, and chopped pecans, shredded coconut, and salsa.   Deb's side dishes included guacamole, tortilla chips and salsa. A simple dessert of cookies, bars and fruit easily complete the meal.  For "pot luck" style, each guest could bring a topping.
A very special thank you to each of you who gave me suggestions!  And please feel free to share any additional tips of your own under "Comments."  
Next Wednesday, please join me for a tribute to Mothers, in honor of Mother's Day coming up this Sunday!

KEY #H2: IF MY HOUSE HAD TO BE PERFECT . . .

"If my house had to be perfect
     to invite you in,
We'd be alone all the time,
     what a bore; what a sin!
Welcome, come in,
     we're glad you're here,
Whether you came
     from far or near.
A meal, a visit,
     an overnight stay.
You're part of the family,
     come what may.
Dust, dirty dishes,
     no gleam on the silver,
This isn't a showplace,
     it's home, we live here.
So take off your shoes,
     put up your feet,
I'll make the coffee,
     just have a seat.
(Poem written by a dear friend of mine, who wishes to remain anonymous)

When I was growing up in the country, people would just drop in at any time during the day to visit.  No one seemed to care if the house was in order or not.  Most of our neighbors were farm people, and it was generally understood that cooking and baking food for the men workers took top priority, over cleaning,  in the chores of the household.  They had to keep those men fit and full of energy for their hard field work!
We were not farm people at that time and my mother (and me!) faithfully cleaned our house every Saturday or thereabouts for Sunday, the Lord's day, and more frequently for expected company.  She did never once missed the deeper cleaning chores of spring cleaning.  In fact, my grandmother even washed all her woodwork weekly!  My grandmother and mother enjoyed a clean house, and so do I!
But when a neighbor or friend dropped in, I don't remember ever hearing my mom apologize for the state of semi-disorganization it was in at that particular time.  People knew that houses were to live in . . . to do projects in . . . to relax and play in. . .
When I moved to the Minneapolis area in 1985, I was struck by the difference of viewpoint regarding hospitality.  Suddenly, it seemed as though the main priority was the appearance of one's house.  I delighted in decorating my new home and tried to keep it clean, but quickly learned to feel embarrassed and apologetic when someone dropped in unexpectedly and my home was not spotless.  I found wonderful, gracious friends who didn't seem to mind if my house was not up to par but my newfound attitude seriously affected my view of the practice of hospitality.  I do appreciate the modern custom of calling first when convenient (that is, if you want to find me fully dressed!)  Some days, I have words on my mind that need to get down on paper immediately before they fly away forever, so I've been known to begin my day at the computer in my furry lavender bathrobe with my hair undone.  So you can keep calling ahead whenever possible!  :)  But if I had to keep my house in ship shape presentation at all times, I would never accomplish anything else.
My husband, on the other hand, still invites people to "drop in"any time.  He is very comfortable with that.  I truly enjoy having people over, but have been known to struggle with "panic attacks" involving furious activity at the prospect that leave him bewildered.  Can anyone relate???  I do hope so!!!
I've been wondering about God's view on the particular practice of hospitality.  So I decided to delve into God's Word to see what He had to say about it.
Here are a few passages I found:
In Romans 12:13, "practicing hospitality" is listed as one of the gifts of the Spirit.
In 1 Timothy 3:2, where Paul is listing the qualifications for "overseers"(deacons, elders, etc.) of the church, he states that "an overseer must be . . . hospitable."  This is also affirmed in Titus 1:8.
In 1 Peter 4:9, all Christians are admonished to "Be hospitable to one another without complaint." "Without complaint?"  Hmmm . . . without fear of embarrassment?
During Old Testament times, before Jesus came to earth, hospitality was considered so vital that it was a regular practice to invite traveling strangers into one's home.  It was viewed as shameful to allow a stranger passing through town to spend the night in the town square with no invitation for a place to sleep.
In the New Testament, we see that Jesus was often at the home of Mary and Martha, possibility to seek a respite from the crowds, or simply to enjoy the companionship of dear friends.
Breaking bread together as Christians was a valued costume.  Hearts and minds were often opened and made vulnerable over a meal, or simply coffee or tea.  That is still true today.
Hebrews 13:2 reads, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."  Now isn't that an intriguing thought!?!  Although, I do admit in this day and culture, safety issues must unfortunately be considered.  I never unlock the door to a strangers when my husband is not available!  Although we always need to be open to God's leading in a particular situation.
Anyway, it seems to me that God still places a high value on the practice of hospitality and expect us to make good use of it today.  
So what does this all mean to me . . . and you?
I enjoy decorating my house and appreciate it more when things are freshly clean and organized.  But I need to get over the panicky feeling of hearing company is coming and I'm not prepared or don't foresee the time to do so.
But in spite of my occasional lapses into frantic activity, I love to have people visit us!  I love to open up our "Stai Bed and Breakfast" for treasured family and friends!  My own feelings regarding the state of my house are just that  . . my own feelings.  Of pride, perhaps . . . not good . . . although I do want to honor my guests with comfortable, clean surroundings.  That is truly a heart desire of mine.
One day, many years ago, when our family had moved to a Minneapolis suburb, we were looking for a church.  It was a Saturday morning.  Our kids were occupied elsewhere, so my husband and I were home alone.  Now Saturday tends to be the day I do my weekly cleaning.  So my house was still awaiting attention in this area . . . with a husband, dogs, and three kids, need I say more???  Gary (my husband) was sick, so he was still in his pajamas, with hair uncombed.  And our washing machine chose that day to refuse to function and carry out it's regular duties.  So Gary was in the basement working on it.  I was in my cleaning grubbies with a bandana scarf tied over my hair, planning to clean first and wash up later.    For some reason, Gary had hauled his huge, oversize shop vacuum cleaner up to the entrance hall of our split level home, where it stood imposingly by the front door.  I had just begun to sweep that same hall, gathering the dirt together in one prominent spot, when the doorbell rang.  Gary came up the basement stairs as I threw the front door open to find the pastor of a church we had recently visited standing there with a friendly smile on his face . . . properly dressed in Sunday clothes, of course!
Utterly humiliated, I immediately started apologizing and explaining, "I'm so sorry, Gary is sick and our washer broke down, I'm cleaning, we didn't expect you (which I could have assumed was obvious!) . . . "
He just looked around at us and calmed remarked, "That's all right.  This is how you live."
I had all I could do to restrain my hands from gripping his shoulders, shaking him and responding, "NO!  This is NOT how we live!  This is an extraordinarily BAD DAY!"  Since Gary was sick, the pastor didn't stay long, and I don't think we returned to his church.  The dear man meant well, but his unannounced visit was more than I could handle that day!
In my opinion, the Hospitality Poem (above) fits well with God's point of view.  He must have intended us to invite people into our homes not to share perfection (which isn't the case anyway), but to share our lives, to relate as real people living honestly before each other, to extend the warmth of understanding and companionship, and help to draw others closer to Jesus, the One who truly and perfectly loves.
So Lord, please forgive me for my pride and help me to handle the unexpected more graciously.  And also would You please help me manage my home a bit more effectively so I can appreciate Your daily surprises as a loving child of Yours would be expected to do?
Thanks for listening, friends and strangers!  May we all be gracious to one another and to each other's homes!
Tune in next week for some of my personal Hospitality Bloopers!  And we'll finish this series the following week with Hospitality Hints from Friends!

KEY #H1: THE DAY I BURNED MY "JOY OF HOUSEKEEPING" BOOK

Welcome to my four week series on Hospitality!  I'd like to begin with a little story that I wrote when my two oldest children were little.  I shared this recently at a women's retreat and I think it fits nicely here as one example of the frustration I have encountered trying to live up to the hospitality standard I have set for myself.  More on that next week . . . today we will just share a laugh at my expense!  :)
"THE DAY I BURNED MY 'JOY OF HOUSEKEEPING' BOOK"
The day started normally enough.  It was the middle of winter.  I lived in the country and had two adorable children, my five-year-old daughter E, and her younger brother, K, a year-and-a-half old toddler.  Blizzard after blizzard had dumped their frigid loads of snow outside our home, so I had been forced to remain inside with my two children day after day for what seemed like forever.  And since we lived quite a ways from town, my social life had plummeted to below zero along with the outside temperatures.  And yes, I was well into a heavy onset of Cabin Fever.
My normally adorable children were losing some of their charm, the wood stove was roaring and, nearly every time I turned around, K had popped another wood chip into his mouth.
The one bright spot in my day was the fact that we were expecting company that evening.  I had offered to host a church committee meeting and was eagerly anticipating the welcome social interlude.
Of course, I needed some quality time to get my house presentable, so I took play dough out of the cupboard with which to occupy E and K.  With both children contentedly playing at the kitchen table, I grabbed my rag and vacuum cleaner and attacked the dust and dirt.
"Mommy!"  A bone chilling scream interrupted me ten minutes later.  Rushing into the kitchen, I found E extremely upset.  "K got play dough in my eye!"  she yelled.
Sure enough.  There was a tiny blue spot on the white part of her eyeball.
"How on earth did he do that?" I tried to assess the situation.  "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head and peered up at me solemnly.
K finished rolling his little blue worms and trotted off innocently to find more wood chips.
I gingerly removed the blue speck with a clean handkerchief and helped E put the play dough away.
After removing another wood chip from K's mouth, I settled the children in the living room playing with their Fisher Price little people set.  Since the kids' bedroom was carpeted, I usually let them play in the small section of hard floor by the front entry door so the little people wouldn't tip over easily.  The small, detailed village has a theater, post office, dentist office, fire station, bank, school, just about everything a proper little village needs.
Their contentment lasted about five minutes this time until E began to squeal, "Mommy, K is knocking my people over!"
"Oh, look out, Little People!" I yelled, getting into the sprit of the game.  "The Baby Monster is coming!"
K, the cooperative Baby Monster, grinned gleefully and lumbered further into their midst.
"Look out!"  E echoed, clapping her hands with delight.  "The Baby Monster is coming!"
Congratulating myself on the burst of creative thinking, I returned to my Vacuuming Monster.  I generally didn't encourage my kids to play "monsters," but this seemed an acceptable time to make an exception.
Crash!  My head jerked around to see hundreds of glass silvers cascade through the air and land precisely in the middle of the little play village.  The Baby Monster had knocked the lamp off of the end table near the door.
Fortunately unhurt, my two little darlings stepped back and eyed the tragic scene in amazement.
"Mommy, look what K did!"  E pointed her chubby finger at the accused.  Tears rolled out of K's eyes.  "No, me!  No, me!"  he protested.
I quickly hugged both kids, thankful there were no injuries.  Then I turned my attention to the carastrophic disaster.  Miraculously, all the little people survived the explosion, although the little ambulance was extremely busy the rest of the afternoon.
So was I.  Separating all the little figures from all the minute slivers of glass took a considerable amount of time.  I fancied I could hear my vauum cleaner calling impatiently in the background and my dust rag sobbing uncontrollably.
At 4:00, I finally dumped the final pieces of glass in the garbage and tucked the last little person into his storage box.  Hands on my hips, I surveyed my unpresentable house and heaved a huge sigh of despondency.  Churning emotions of revenge and rebellion mingled deliciously in my tormented mind.
That was the moment I grabbed my "Joy of Housekeeping" manual that had no advice whatsoever about removing play dough from a child's eye or how to cope with a little village disaster, strode triumphantly to the wood stove and threw it into the blazing fire where it belonged.
Satisfied with my moment of revenge, I grabbed the mop and frantically tackled the kitchen floor with renewed energy.
Two hours later, after much feverish activity, my house sparkled and the telephone rang.
The committee meeting had been cancelled due to another blizzard on the way.

Hope you enjoyed the story!  I blogged it while sitting here in the lovely, warm Hospitality Room in the Land of Abundant Living.  According to the Bible, God places a high value on the practice of hospitality, so next week, we'll check into that and also begin to talk about ways of looking at and approaching hospitality.  Later on, we'll check out some tips from contributors!