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Chow Down

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Years ago I had learned that my allergy-prone puppy would be better off without grains in his diet. I got used to reading the ingredients in pet food and treats. After my dog experienced occasional days of loud growling stomach and no appetite, I eliminated some imported treats. A few weeks ago my husband and I watched a documentary regarding the business of pet food processing and lack of regulation. Digestion problems, allergies and illness seem correlated or caused by modern pet diets. Most species of animals have teeth and digestion adapted to masticate and absorb only appropriate foods. We grew concerned that we had not been giving our dog “species appropriate” food. Perhaps we even contributed to the diseases and deaths of earlier pets. Suddenly I realized that dogs’ and cats’ instinct would dictate that they never go hunting for kibble.

As I thought about the implications for animals, it became much more clear to me that I have often been eating processed food items that are not “species appropriate” for humans. Food in boxes and cans and bags did not start out in their current form and may not be recognizable to my body as nourishment. I have been making changes in my diet due to health issues but I wish I had been more attuned to appropriate food much earlier in life. Cheese doodles and red licorice are a long distance from a food group.

I believe in a master Creator who has a design of best outcome for all His creatures. I was raised with an awareness of the dangers of certain food items, or that eating /drinking some things amounted to a “sin” if you knew better. The body as a “temple of God” is a responsibility and privilege (I Corinthians 6:19). Even moderation is only as good as what is on the buffet! I have also grown to appreciate that one diet regimen does not fit the unique body chemistry and needs of all people. However, the idea that people food should be in much more garden and field fresh form makes a lot of sense to me.

Months ago I created some garden boxes to try growing an assortment of vegetables and herbs so that my grandsons would know where food originates. I need to constantly remember that real food doesn’t come from extruding machines, as crackers, and snack packs. I am horrified by the long lists of chemicals and ingredients that we so readily absorb in our haste to eat or satisfy a craving.

Heated discussions can erupt about the best form of people food. Culture, religion, accessibility, finances and personal requirements guide food choices. I sometimes balk at the “expense” of food but realize that the equation often results in either money for quality food or expense related to later illness and early death. I still enjoy convenience and pulling things out of my freezer, but it should look more like real food. As I feed my pets their new “species appropriate” dinners, I look for simpler and cleaner human options also. We all want to feel well and enjoy the gift of life.

Questions for personal journaling or group discussion:

1. What categories of food would you list for a human “species appropriate” diet?

2. What do you say when asked, “Why don’t you eat that?”

Karen Spruill writes from Orlando, Florida.

The post Chow Down appeared first on Answers for Me.

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Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

Blinded by Grief

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While we were taking our morning walk, my husband and I had a “misunderstanding.” I wondered if the sour feeling would lessen our ability to worship that day. Then on our way to church my husband kept asking about my reactions to Jesus’ crucifixion. That was the lesson he was about to teach in his adult class. He wondered how anyone could watch their son die that way — and yet, besides Mary — God, the Father, and the Holy Spirit had to watch Jesus die.

I told him that I could relate in a small way. I could remember how difficult it was for me to hear our five-year-old son scream for me when he was taken into surgery years ago. I could not follow him or hold his hand. He was on his own as he slipped into the lostness of anesthesia. That memory will always break my heart. Jesus had nothing to dull the pain of separation except for his faith in God’s love.

“Would you like to know when you are going to die?” Of course, each day means we are one day closer to our deaths. I remember the days leading up to my mother’s funeral and just wanting to get beyond that day. What was it like for Jesus to know when he was going to die? He had told the disciples about the time frame and they really weren’t paying attention. We surmised what it was like for him hanging on the cross — feeling emotional pain just as much, or more, than physical pain. Going into a death from which he could not be certain he would return. With some of his last breathes he focused on forgiveness for the guilty, and care for his mother.

We pondered the disciples’ grief as they waited after Jesus death. Had they followed Jesus in vain? They had lost their best friend and teacher — the dearest, kindest person they ever knew. Their sense of loss must have been so very dark and strong. We know the ending to the story but they were blinded by grief and vanishing faith.

My husband was so moved as he drove that he asked me for some tissues. I did not want to mess up my mascara as we talked, so I choked back my tears. Of course, I felt great sorrow for all involved in that awesome weekend many years ago. I felt gratitude for a God that would part with the Great Intimacy of Three to save the very people that would like to destroy their Creator. The day that changed history. A terrible day and yet a day of hope.

I was left in the wonder of witnessing my God’s love, and how much it has touched the heart of my husband. This same man who tracks his Fantasy Football scores, who fixes the toilet, who snores in my bed, who still struggles with bad habits–is close to tears when he ponders the cross of Jesus. I have noticed that my husband’s focus on Jesus leads him to greater compassion with people, and often with my annoying ways.

Truly, Jesus’ resurrection power was not only displayed in his physical body, but it exists every day in the hearts and lives of His believers. “And his incomparably great power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 1:19-20, NIV).

Karen Spruill writes from Florida.

The post Blinded by Grief appeared first on Answers for Me.

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Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

Finding the Lost

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5I absolutely hate losing things and especially my Bibles and books. Recently my husband came home from his job and handed me a Bible. “Did you lose this–back in October?” he asked. I welcomed back my favorite go-to-church Bible that I had lost months ago. He found it under the seat in his car. I had searched all the lost and found spots at church, both family cars, my office, our bedroom, the bookcases and had finally given up on finding the Bible.

I am blessed to have a large collection of Bibles and many have their various purposes. I have a morning devotion Bible, several New Testaments that I read from at a support group, a well-worn Bible by my computer, several serious study Bibles, three or four paraphrases, my high school Bible, and the Jewish holy scriptures. They seem like family members and I mourned the loss of my thin Bible with the butterfly sticker inside. I started taking one of my husband’s Bibles to church. I recognize that I’m “old school” since I cannot feel comfortable with a cell phone or e-reader version at church. Besides, I like turning real pages and that’s usually faster than the electronic ones.

How joyous it is to experience the lost returning. Especially so when it is a lost pet or family member. Our teenage daughter once left home abruptly and we, friends and police, searched frantically for several hours until she was found. Bittersweet relief. Years earlier we had a pet cat that disappeared for about three days, and my husband spent several nights sleeping on the floor next to the sliding glass door in case he returned. Thankfully, the dear grimy, hungry cat came home. But it’s not always the case as a cat that disappeared when I was a child–most likely the victim of a stealthy fox. We always worry about the vulnerability of the lost.

The same Bible that reappeared at home shares a trio of stories about the lost in Luke 15. The last parable about two sons and a faithful father has inspired people and art for centuries. The wayward son in that story had asked his father for his inheritance which amounted to wishing his father was dead. It’s not clear how many months or years passed until the son had used up his money in “wild living.” Later he decided to return home and ask to be a hired hand, rather than starve. His father must have been sitting on the front porch, or on the roof, watching for his son every day. He ended up running to greet his son with kisses, forgiveness, reinstatement, and a party. (The other brother’s reaction reveals another aspect of God’s compassion and inclusion.)

So cats, kids, and compassion are all wrapped up in my lost Bible returning home. I had even forgotten that I had tucked a small folded note with my mother’s handwriting in the back of that Bible: “There is no other word for grace, but amazing.”

Questions for personal journaling or group discussion:

1. Have you ever been the one that was lost?

2. What’s the most interesting or exciting recovery you have experienced?

Karen Spruill writes from Orlando, Florida.

The post Finding the Lost appeared first on Answers for Me.

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Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

Homesick

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The first time I spent a night alone away from my parents, I slept at my grandparents’ house about 10 miles from home. I remember that I was tearful and I felt as though home was hundreds of miles away. The sounds, smells and rhythm was very different from home. Years later I spent most of one summer as a camp counselor and I missed home yet I was too tired and busy to get very sentimental. Then during my first year of marriage, my husband and I moved away from family for my first professional employment. Our big adventure was a time to make our way in the world. More years later I was driving the kids, dog and cat back to my parents’ home after an austere time during my husband’s internship in another state. As we neared “home,” I recited the anticipated noodles, bread, jam and cookies awaiting us with all things familiar.

During the past few years since my parents’ deaths, I sometimes wake up remembering my childhood home. I spend mental trips around the rooms or outside in the yard. Those are now mostly sweet memories. After decades as a married woman I realize that my home is with my spouse–and yes, with my dog. I have lived in four states and 11 different houses, so I know that home can be a transient place. One must make a “home” wherever you are.

As I get older and more loved ones and friends pass away–as culture, music and styles change, I must admit that I get homesick. I think we all experience some loss and grief during times of change. Transitions can be exciting but also scary and uncertain. My favorite grocery store changes the layout; my tech devices are constantly updated; my grandchildren grow; and laws and gas prices change! Homesick feelings can include sad, restless, unsettled–perhaps even angry reactions. I hear many voices exclaiming, “This isn’t my —– (you fill in the blank). Perhaps we are all homesick on this planet.

Over many years song writers and actors have expressed the feeling of being “a wayfaring stranger,” “all you who are weary come home,” Dorothy returning from Oz, or how home is a certain state of mind. I think our souls–the deepest part of our hearts and minds–remember and yearn for true home, and we miss him. We miss the God that never changes, who always loves, and brings us peace as no other. We strive to fill that remembrance with things, food, substances, people and places. Some of us also know that only “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8, NIV).

When I start to get frustrated with this world, my country, my church, my family, etc., I need to spend time with Jesus, who welcomes me back home. He is my breath, my bread, my water, my true family. His words, his life stories, his promises sustain and guide me. Jesus reminds me that there is “only one thing needed” and that is to sit at his feet and listen to him (Luke10:42).

Questions for personal journaling or group discussion:

1. Describe a time of feeling homesick.

2. “Jesus replied, ‘If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him’” (John 14:23). How is Jesus making a home with you?

Karen Spruill writes from Orlando, Florida.

The post Homesick appeared first on Answers for Me.

Read more at the source: Homesick

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

Taking Care of Stuff

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Years ago the now-deceased comedian, George Carlin, created a hilarious skit about “Stuff.” I can relate to the material. Tomorrow a rodent control business is coming to give us a free estimate on corralling the critters in our attic. I need to order filters for my shower and replace one on the furnace. The rugs should be cleaned again and the driveway is due for a pressure wash. A strange tear in the lining of one of my car doors needs attention and that requires a visit across town. Besides keeping track of the next oil change, tire rotations, and a few car washes. I grow weary of the use of my time to care for things. I would prefer to spend the precious days, months and years that I have left, caring for people and pursuing talents and relationships.

Not that my things don’t assist me in those endeavors. I use my car to get to people. I use my appliances to feed myself and family members. And I do get exhausted from caring about or for family, friends and clients. Yet my patience is growing thin about stuff. When I add up the time spent each year pricing, evaluating and shopping for appliances and services, along with waiting at home or in businesses for repairs, I am disgusted. I’m tired of babysitting possessions.

A few years ago I started yearning to downsize — get rid of things and space that isn’t necessary. Hurricanes, disasters, and terrorism remind us of what is really worth saving. Since then the “Foodie” in me acquired an electric ice cream maker, a pannini grill, a raclette grill, and some other gadgets. My children’s former bedrooms are filling with stuff that doesn’t fit in the other shelves and rooms of the house. I routinely sort through clothes and household goods to set out for the charities that provide pick-up service. The battle continues on controlling accumulation, the disease of Western consumer life.

All of this stuff may be part of the reason that fiction Amish stories are so popular in Christian book stores. We used to read the Little House on the Prairie stories and muse about the hard but simple life of bygone times. So in my fantasy world, sometimes I see myself in a little cabin among a pine forest with Internet service and a good shopping mall about one hour away. Indoor plumbing with hot water would be a must, along with my washer and dryer, a good stove, music and lots of books.

Perhaps this is another sign of my chronology. Each year is now a schedule of health maintenance appointments for various personal body parts, plus occasional unmanageable sicknesses or emergencies. And those for the dog. I fail to brush his teeth. The precious sand of time seems to be sliding ominously faster in the hour glass of each year.

Stewardship of my time, space, and health is a challenge that I want to pray about in the New Year. We joke that as file space in the mind is filled, some things fall away. I must be intentional about saving space and time in my life for the most valuable. There isn’t room for all the stuff, in my life my house, my heart. This year I will save space and time for Jesus Christ and those who mean the most to me?

Questions for personal journaling or group discussion:

1. If you have five minutes to collect your most important possessions, what would you take with you?

2. If you knew that in a few months your money would be worthless, how would you spend it now?

Karen Spruill writes from Orlando, Florida.

The post Taking Care of Stuff appeared first on Answers for Me.

Read more at the source: Taking Care of Stuff

Article excerpt posted on en.intercer.net from Answers for Me.

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