Monday, July 18, 2011
A thankful heart is a happy heart.
I walked into my bathroom this morning to find my husband's whiskers in the sink. I started to get annoyed about having to clean them up again. I was suddenly reminded of several people I've been getting to know. You see they don't have a spouse any longer. I thought to myself, "Self, I bet they wish for just one more minute with their clean shaven husband. They wouldn't mind the whiskers they'd have to clean one more time. Get over it. Your hubby is alive and healthy enough to leave you this gift..." Thanks Andy. Love you.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
My Family's Christmas Traditions...
Howdy faithful readers,
I know Christmas is quite a few months away. I normally don't think about the Christmas season, until I can't escape the incessant sounds of bells clanging for money, the crackle of frozen tree branches, and the Chipmunks singing "Christmas Don't Be Late". Tonight I found myself remembering a promise I made to one of the MOPS moms. She had requested we write a little snippet about our American Christmas traditions. I suppose it's to be posted in a British Church newsletter about Christmas time around the world. So here are a few of ours... Hope you enjoy.
-Dana
Christmas time in our house started the day my mom said it did. She was, is, and always be a fan of everything Christmas. We'd pull our boxes of decorations down from the garage rafters. We'd rearrange the furniture to put up our artificial tree. We'd hang the lights followed by scores of handmade and gifted ornaments. It was my little sister's and my job to scatter the tinsel over the "twigs". My mom would have all the Christmas music she could get her hands on playing on repeat all season long. Mom would write our family newsletter with information about what we'd done each year, what our extended family had done, and the length of our hair (we, girls, don't cut or trim our hair). She'd send it to/hand it to people from church, family, our friends and my parent's longtime friends. We were in charge of stuffing the envelopes and putting the postal stamps on. (Except the one year when I was maybe 5 years old and flushed her Christmas Newsletter stamps she'd saved to purchase. I was so mad at her for something. She just sat on the couch to cry. Sorry Mom!)
A couple days before Christmas Eve, we'd help make up decorative plates of peanut butter fudge (my little sister was/is allergic to caffeine), stained glass sugar cookies (raw sugar cookies decorated with a mixture of food coloring, egg whites, and water. They are baked as normal. They come out looking like stained glass windows.), and other sweet treats. My two sisters and I would put on coats, hats and boots to pass out the sugary confections along with our family newsletter (as I recall) to our neighbors. Our grandma's box of goodies and gifts would arrive at our doorstep in Colorado from Michigan. My mom would always take my cousins, siblings and me to the mall to buy gifts. We'd run off in pairs eager to spend our allotment of cash. (I think the mall trip was more for her to people watch kid free. She would talk about the bustle of last-minute shoppers trying to materialize their love through the gifts to be given.)
We'd head to church for our annual candle light Christmas Carol sing-along which always included a stirring three part male harmony version of We Three Kings followed by the congregation singing together Go Tell it on the Mountain. My mom, who collects/collected Christmasy type stories, would get up in front of the congregation to read a couple. We'd have a short re-enactment of the biblical happening of Jesus's birth. Everyone would head to the church basement, after a closing prayer, for refreshments and fellowship.
Christmas Eve would arrive. Dad would order a pizza because Mom was tired of cooking by that point. We'd pass out the presents to our respective seats. We'd find our bibles. We'd gather around the twinkling tree to first honor God by reading from Matthew 1 and Luke 2. We'd go around the room youngest to oldest opening one gift at a time until we'd finished. My parents usually used Christmas to buy things we really needed like new shoes, clothes, and that alarm clock my preschool aged self couldn't live without. When the wrapping paper was thrown out and our plates were cleaned up, we'd watch a Christmas movie as a family. That was a huge treat in our family, since my parents decided not to have a television in our house.
On Christmas Day, My mom would wake us up by enticing us to come eat her yummy homemade cinnamon rolls. We'd drearily wander to the table. Our stockings would be sitting at our chairs stuffed to the brim with tiny wrapped gifts usually including, but not limited to: a pad of paper, socks, underwear, a deck of cars, a toothbrush and walnuts to fill the toe. After breakfast, we'd gather all of our gifts from the night before and our stockings to carry to our rooms. We'd get ready to head to our maternal grandma's and Pastor Grandpa's house.
Their house at Christmas and Thanksgiving always smelled of laundry sheets, roasted/smoked turkey (my grandparents could never decide how they liked the turkey best), and raising dough. My grandparents had eight kids (six girls and two boys) including my mom. All of whom were/are gifted cooks. Each of my mom's siblings would bring a portion of Christmas dinner. We'd often have other members of our congregation join our festivities being my Grandfather was/is a Pastor and had an open door policy for "whosoever will". My humming Grandmother would just shake her head and add another place setting. Some of the best and most loving arguments arose out of those occasions often peppered with a Maurice or Doris. While the aunt's were busy cooking, the oldest cousins would pass out gifts and be munching on pumpkin cookies and other finger foods. Everyone always got at least one gift. Opening presents would take at least 3 hours with the number of the family/church friends. School aged youngsters would open one present at at time starting with the youngest moving to the oldest until all the gifts were open. The adults would banish them next door to my Aunt's house to play while they followed suit in gift opening.
When they were finally finished, we'd eat dinner, clean up and go for a walk in the brisk evening air through the cemetery next door to my grandparent's house. When they returned it was time for dessert and board games. More church members would arrive to hang out. I can't count how many times I fell asleep to the sounds of friendly arguments over the correct answer on trivial pursuit or boggle. My grandpa would always challenge someone to a game of Scrabble. He'd usually win....
I've moved away now that I'm married. We are starting to build our own traditions. We usually visit several different relatives for dinner and conversation. Our son went to see Santa when he was 8 months old. Our church does a Christmas Service. My parents usually come from Colorado for a visit. As Dylan gets older I'm sure we'll be more adventurous with our Christmas plans.
I know Christmas is quite a few months away. I normally don't think about the Christmas season, until I can't escape the incessant sounds of bells clanging for money, the crackle of frozen tree branches, and the Chipmunks singing "Christmas Don't Be Late". Tonight I found myself remembering a promise I made to one of the MOPS moms. She had requested we write a little snippet about our American Christmas traditions. I suppose it's to be posted in a British Church newsletter about Christmas time around the world. So here are a few of ours... Hope you enjoy.
-Dana
Christmas time in our house started the day my mom said it did. She was, is, and always be a fan of everything Christmas. We'd pull our boxes of decorations down from the garage rafters. We'd rearrange the furniture to put up our artificial tree. We'd hang the lights followed by scores of handmade and gifted ornaments. It was my little sister's and my job to scatter the tinsel over the "twigs". My mom would have all the Christmas music she could get her hands on playing on repeat all season long. Mom would write our family newsletter with information about what we'd done each year, what our extended family had done, and the length of our hair (we, girls, don't cut or trim our hair). She'd send it to/hand it to people from church, family, our friends and my parent's longtime friends. We were in charge of stuffing the envelopes and putting the postal stamps on. (Except the one year when I was maybe 5 years old and flushed her Christmas Newsletter stamps she'd saved to purchase. I was so mad at her for something. She just sat on the couch to cry. Sorry Mom!)
A couple days before Christmas Eve, we'd help make up decorative plates of peanut butter fudge (my little sister was/is allergic to caffeine), stained glass sugar cookies (raw sugar cookies decorated with a mixture of food coloring, egg whites, and water. They are baked as normal. They come out looking like stained glass windows.), and other sweet treats. My two sisters and I would put on coats, hats and boots to pass out the sugary confections along with our family newsletter (as I recall) to our neighbors. Our grandma's box of goodies and gifts would arrive at our doorstep in Colorado from Michigan. My mom would always take my cousins, siblings and me to the mall to buy gifts. We'd run off in pairs eager to spend our allotment of cash. (I think the mall trip was more for her to people watch kid free. She would talk about the bustle of last-minute shoppers trying to materialize their love through the gifts to be given.)
We'd head to church for our annual candle light Christmas Carol sing-along which always included a stirring three part male harmony version of We Three Kings followed by the congregation singing together Go Tell it on the Mountain. My mom, who collects/collected Christmasy type stories, would get up in front of the congregation to read a couple. We'd have a short re-enactment of the biblical happening of Jesus's birth. Everyone would head to the church basement, after a closing prayer, for refreshments and fellowship.
Christmas Eve would arrive. Dad would order a pizza because Mom was tired of cooking by that point. We'd pass out the presents to our respective seats. We'd find our bibles. We'd gather around the twinkling tree to first honor God by reading from Matthew 1 and Luke 2. We'd go around the room youngest to oldest opening one gift at a time until we'd finished. My parents usually used Christmas to buy things we really needed like new shoes, clothes, and that alarm clock my preschool aged self couldn't live without. When the wrapping paper was thrown out and our plates were cleaned up, we'd watch a Christmas movie as a family. That was a huge treat in our family, since my parents decided not to have a television in our house.
On Christmas Day, My mom would wake us up by enticing us to come eat her yummy homemade cinnamon rolls. We'd drearily wander to the table. Our stockings would be sitting at our chairs stuffed to the brim with tiny wrapped gifts usually including, but not limited to: a pad of paper, socks, underwear, a deck of cars, a toothbrush and walnuts to fill the toe. After breakfast, we'd gather all of our gifts from the night before and our stockings to carry to our rooms. We'd get ready to head to our maternal grandma's and Pastor Grandpa's house.
Their house at Christmas and Thanksgiving always smelled of laundry sheets, roasted/smoked turkey (my grandparents could never decide how they liked the turkey best), and raising dough. My grandparents had eight kids (six girls and two boys) including my mom. All of whom were/are gifted cooks. Each of my mom's siblings would bring a portion of Christmas dinner. We'd often have other members of our congregation join our festivities being my Grandfather was/is a Pastor and had an open door policy for "whosoever will". My humming Grandmother would just shake her head and add another place setting. Some of the best and most loving arguments arose out of those occasions often peppered with a Maurice or Doris. While the aunt's were busy cooking, the oldest cousins would pass out gifts and be munching on pumpkin cookies and other finger foods. Everyone always got at least one gift. Opening presents would take at least 3 hours with the number of the family/church friends. School aged youngsters would open one present at at time starting with the youngest moving to the oldest until all the gifts were open. The adults would banish them next door to my Aunt's house to play while they followed suit in gift opening.
When they were finally finished, we'd eat dinner, clean up and go for a walk in the brisk evening air through the cemetery next door to my grandparent's house. When they returned it was time for dessert and board games. More church members would arrive to hang out. I can't count how many times I fell asleep to the sounds of friendly arguments over the correct answer on trivial pursuit or boggle. My grandpa would always challenge someone to a game of Scrabble. He'd usually win....
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| Santa and eight month old Dylan Christmas 2010 |
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
What a thought!
A few years ago my family was going through some tough times. In true Gordon style, we dug a bit deeper to hold to hope, love and our family's legacy of faith. My mom and 5 aunts decided to start reading the bible together. They all purchased the same version of a read-the-bible-in-one-year-bible. They found strength in their reading and that they wanted to share the things that stuck out to them with each reading with each other.Over the years they've added more people to read along with a weekly sharer. It has become an email I look forward to. Below is this week's Thought of the Week. I make no personal claims to righteousness or holy perfection. I do try to conduct myself with honor and keep a song in my heart. I have thought about this concept a bit in the past couple months, hence my posting it. Without further ado...
For the sake of the Righteous...
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| The Gordon Sisters: (Left to right) Mom (Karen), Karla, Krystal, Kelly and Kathy |
Judgment was coming. God told Solomon, "I'm going to tear the kingdom out of your hand and give it to one of your servants!" God was ready to mete out the judgment right then and there! But wait - He remembered something. He remembered the faithfulness of his servant, David. God told Solomon, "Judgment is coming. But I won't do it in your day. It will come during your son's reign."
What was God's reason for the delay? It was for the sake of David, Solomon's father. On his own merit, Solomon did deserve the judgement of the Lord. But his judgment was seen by God through the "rose-colored" glasses of David's righteousness.
...for the sake of the righteous. What a powerful thought. You and I have the ability, through our righteous living, to affect all of those around us. Our children, our families, our co-workers, and our neighbors are affected by our lives. If we live righteously before the Lord, His blessings follow us. And the overflow of that righteous living spills over on those close to us. The Word of the Lord mentions that an unsaved husband is "sanctified" by the believing wife. That doesn't mean he is saved. But it does mean that he's blessed because he's living with a righteous woman. The blessings that the Lord is going to show that faithful, righteous wife will benefit him as well!
What a responsibility that places on each of us. I really, really want to walk in a pleasing manner before the Lord. That way my children, grandchildren, friends, customers, etc. can hear the Lord say, "You deserve judgement, but for the sake of my servant, Karla, I'm not going to do it right now." I've prayed that prayer before. "Lord, please remember me. And for your handmaiden's sake, do this and this..."
It's so tragic that Solomon didn't think of living his life in such a way that would keep his children under God's protection. The divine blessing and protection of the Lord ended when Solomon deliberately broke God's laws. And his children were the recipients of God's judgment.
Just like Abraham pleading for Sodom, we can plead for the ones in our lives. God was willing to halt all judgment because of Abraham's plea for any righteous people in Sodom and Gomorrah. God was willing to do what his righteous servant was asking for.
When speaking about Solomon's judgement, God spoke these words in Kings 11:13, "...I will not take away the entire kingdom; I will let him be king of one tribe, for the sake of my servant, David..."
My prayer is that God will see my life, my example, (and hopefully) my righteous living, and say the same thing about me. For the sake of my righteous servant, Karla...
Love you all!!"
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Hope strikes again!
This hope doesn't rest. I've got a promise like a fat kid loves candy. It won't let me go.
“The LORD will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” Psalm 121:7-8 NIV
"11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you,” declares the LORD..."
“The LORD will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” Psalm 121:7-8 NIV
"11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you,” declares the LORD..."
Jeremiah 29:11-14 NIV
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dear Uncle Stan
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| My Grandpa with the Hat, My Uncle Rodney and Great Uncle Stan |
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| Uncle Stan |
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Take a deep breath. Now do it again...
Well folks its been awhile since I last posted. Life has been rushing past at break neck speeds. Dylan turned one on May 4th. You may have caught the blog post. :D My dear mother-in-law played hostess to a birthday party for the family who couldn't make it to the birthday brunch. The following Saturday we celebrated a second time at clubhouse here in town. We had a nice turn out. We are blessed to have so many people care about our family and show it through their gift giving. (By the way, thanks to all who helped make Dylan's birthday parties a success!)
Andy and I are in agreement, we need to move. Dylan is crawling like a champ and will soon be walking. Space is an issue in our apartment. We've been debating on our next step. We've been house/apartment/townhouse hunting for the last couple months. We are looking for a place in a nice area with at least 2 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, a dishwasher, AND washer/dryer in the place. Renting a 2 bedroom apartment or townhouse seem to be about the same cost as a house payment in our area. We thought we had found a house. We even made an offer on it. Due to some mistakes on the realtor's part we backed out of the deal. We are rather disappointed with that situation. We aren't sure what to do now, since we both had our eyes/pocket book backing the thought of being house owners. I'm sure we'll find our window soon with the door keys still in the bank's hand.
Work hours for me have picked up. There has been a lot of shuffling of departments. I still would like to move on and feel rather stuck on where to go next. The temp agency is still not panning out the way I'd hoped. You've heard it all from me about this situation in past blogs, so I'll refrain from repeating myself.
It can be rather lonely in the transition times of one's life. Friends come and go. People's interests change. I find my heritage tapping on my shoulder more often than ever these days... The voices of my ancestry chime together: Don't forget the cross. Don't forget the prayers we prayed for you. Take of your Jesus. TAKE CARE OF YOUR JESUS! Remember Rahab. She made serious mistakes in her life, but her promise to take God at his word gave the family under her roof salvation through her example. Don't forget to sing the songs on Zion. Don't forget. Talk of the Lord when you sit down and rise up. Remember the Sabbath and Keep it holy. It is important so important! No one knows the day nor the hour. He is shield and buckler to them that walk uprightly. The messages march like sentinels before me. They are ever vigilant. Dylan is watching.
And yet with all that is happening in my life, I keep finding this not so chaotic place inside myself. The walls are covered in sweet posters that say things like, "Weeping may endure for a night but joy comes with the morning light." or "Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breath out. Don't you fell better? Good." Or "Waiting is good when there is food on the table." Or "Dare to Hope." Or my favorite "Give yourself a break, Human!" I feel like there is purpose in my waiting these days. There is no doubt this stand still on my future as an individual is frustrating and infuriating at times, I know my dreams with find fruition one day. My hope can rest in an uncompromisingly honest God. While I take a deep breath again and again and again...
Andy and I are in agreement, we need to move. Dylan is crawling like a champ and will soon be walking. Space is an issue in our apartment. We've been debating on our next step. We've been house/apartment/townhouse hunting for the last couple months. We are looking for a place in a nice area with at least 2 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, a dishwasher, AND washer/dryer in the place. Renting a 2 bedroom apartment or townhouse seem to be about the same cost as a house payment in our area. We thought we had found a house. We even made an offer on it. Due to some mistakes on the realtor's part we backed out of the deal. We are rather disappointed with that situation. We aren't sure what to do now, since we both had our eyes/pocket book backing the thought of being house owners. I'm sure we'll find our window soon with the door keys still in the bank's hand.
Work hours for me have picked up. There has been a lot of shuffling of departments. I still would like to move on and feel rather stuck on where to go next. The temp agency is still not panning out the way I'd hoped. You've heard it all from me about this situation in past blogs, so I'll refrain from repeating myself.
It can be rather lonely in the transition times of one's life. Friends come and go. People's interests change. I find my heritage tapping on my shoulder more often than ever these days... The voices of my ancestry chime together: Don't forget the cross. Don't forget the prayers we prayed for you. Take of your Jesus. TAKE CARE OF YOUR JESUS! Remember Rahab. She made serious mistakes in her life, but her promise to take God at his word gave the family under her roof salvation through her example. Don't forget to sing the songs on Zion. Don't forget. Talk of the Lord when you sit down and rise up. Remember the Sabbath and Keep it holy. It is important so important! No one knows the day nor the hour. He is shield and buckler to them that walk uprightly. The messages march like sentinels before me. They are ever vigilant. Dylan is watching.
And yet with all that is happening in my life, I keep finding this not so chaotic place inside myself. The walls are covered in sweet posters that say things like, "Weeping may endure for a night but joy comes with the morning light." or "Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breath out. Don't you fell better? Good." Or "Waiting is good when there is food on the table." Or "Dare to Hope." Or my favorite "Give yourself a break, Human!" I feel like there is purpose in my waiting these days. There is no doubt this stand still on my future as an individual is frustrating and infuriating at times, I know my dreams with find fruition one day. My hope can rest in an uncompromisingly honest God. While I take a deep breath again and again and again...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
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