Tookshire

Typepad blues

Blogwise, I am getting the itch to crumple up and start over.  I thought I would start with the Design and Layout for my typepad site, but despite submitting everything for republishing (once changes are made) nothing is taking affect.  At the moment I have a help-ticket waiting to be answered.

One thing that has always bothered me about typepad (despite the lack of finding any understandable directions to put a little personality onto a blog's look without having to use one of their pre-fab things) is that there is so much wasted space immediately to the left and right of the screen.  The body of the post should be given a wider space, and push the left/right columns out...if there's a way to accomplish this, I'm too much of a non-tech to understand where to find the info.  Same with the design.  I have the uberest of accounts, thinking that I could manipulate the screen sorta like I did back in my old xanga days...but there's nothing for me to manipulate here.  The CSS screen is virtually un-user friendly, and googling things hasn't proved fruitful.

I started another blog...well, that's not exactly true.  I signed up and have chosen a prefab theme from another site (one that actually fits my personality, or at least the personality I want to give my blog).  The site is tookshire.vox.com.  Now, there's no need to go rushing over there, because all I have is a "under construction" post redirecting you to the tookshire.typepad.com site.  But if you are interested in looking at the layout, be my guest.

I started the blog about a month ago (maybe more) but haven't had the time to figure out if I actually want to put down roots somewhere else.  As much as I want to crumple this place up, it isn't because I have a "vision" for a blog (well, I have visions for some sub-blogging...but figure that's just silly because I could just categorize postings on the main page, no?).  I think I just wanted "pretty" and couldn't find it here on typepad.  And moving is such a hassel anyway.

Taylor Caldwell

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all.
And that, of course, is the message of Christmas.  We are never aone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the word seemingly most indifferent.  For this is still the time God chooses.

A little out of context perhaps, but what I'm trying to hang on to:

And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:19

Ask me no secrets, I'll tell you no lies

Knowing something, having faith in it...enough to physically touch what is only spiritually there, sometimes, hardly makes a difference to the terror in one's mind, in one's heart.  It isn't a matter of doubting, and to an extent it isn't a matter of fear, but of a dark descending shame even in the face of forgiveness...because unlike the fairy tale version of most Sunday School lessons, forgiveness doesn't suspend the reality and the consequences.  What makes things damdable is when the choice, while owned and largely my responsibility, was one that I made because of poor guidance obtained when I was too young (age/maturity) and too wounded (emotionally/physically).  I've lived the majority of my life with "if only's" playing in the back of my mind...but when the choices became more and more my own, those "if only's" speak as condemnations rather than moments of fantasy.

While still a teenager, and a new believer, struggling to do what I thought was proper for a believer, and very much under the boom of legalism meshed with unexplained grace which, for me, produced a warped understanding not only of who God was, but how He viewed me, I refused to escape what would become a dangerous situation because I felt lost and condemned to play a specific role I had been dragged into.  By refusing to escape, everything thereafter, no matter how it came to be, became my choice. 

A few years younger, following a failed suicide attempt, which gained me my father telling me how to "do it right, next time" I searched long and hard for something to stop my emptiness.  The church already had their shot, and after surviving a date rape, I sought harder for substitutes that would certainly help me to "complete" my loss.  Even now, my heart whispers to me, "if only" that was the extent of it.

From the time I was a young child I identified so strongly with Judas Iscariot.  Watching Passion Plays, reading scripture on my own, viewing made-for-tv-Easter-movies as a young girl left me shaking in my own sweat praying in chants almost, for Judas.  I developed a "tick" that I carry with me even now...counting...counting past the things that I dread.  If I'm lost or feeling waves of anxiety, you'll see me counting on my fingers to four and then restarting.  It's not counting, exactly.  In some strange way, not even understood by myself, I'm in the act of praying.  It's a personal SOS or something.  This is what I would do to survive the stories of Judas' suicide.  My very nature has compelled me for many of those years to pray for Judas...if he could be forgiven, then I know I could be.  "If only" I knew to the depths I would still yet fall.

Choices I made to feel whole, were somberly brought bare to light while I grew in understanding of my God.  While receiving forgiveness, I did not receive secrecy of my sin...but something along the lines of making whole what I had torn seemed given to me.  But the choices I made before beginning my family would eventually threaten my children.  It appeared that I was given outs, assurances, etc. that I would remain protected, that my children for the most part would remain untouched, and that Franklin would be our guardian.  "If only" there weren't other forces...other people with free wills of their own who held the belief that it was within their rights to act against my family.

I've been injured and to be honest, have not quite mastered to Messiah's satisfaction, the fine art of forgiving.  I have, however, mastered the turn the other cheek in that, against what is in my fear the desire to flee (cut them out of my life), the guardian God has given me continues to keep me planted.  "If only" I had complete trust in that being the right position.  Standing in that position, if I am dreadfully honest, has multiplied the "if only's" in my head/heart.  I have seen so many undesireable things added to my life, (including my reactions to those things), and to my children's lives.  And what I trust was at first obedience to what was the higher road, the road less traveled, I will say that I think now the motivation and the wisdom have changed into "because it is easier" or more "financially" better, etc. 

Now it's come to my past becoming exposed in a more raw way than I think know I can bare by way of news coming to my children.  Two of whom, I think would not understand, but would only slightly alter what they see their lives.  Those two have come to me when they were little, and had received some confusing information from outside of our home, asking me if such a thing were possible...but at their age, and in my hurt, I denied everything.  Still, I think they know more than suspect, the very basic anesthetic (sp?) portion.  One, however, would be devestated, and perhaps lead to other questions more devestating still...for both of us.   Prudence says that if I am the one that shares this with them, then so much the better.  And only because society today doesn't view what has taken place the same way I suppose I do.  But there is no strong guarantee that they'll know otherwise "if only" I can keep others quiet.  There is the gamble.  One thing I do know for certain, however, I have lived this "if only" for nearly half my life, and somewhere out there is a monster I fear will do more injury if I'm the one that talks first...but one that I can unconvincingly make but a shadow, a figment for my family, with my husband's help..."if only."  We are split, and both wanting to react in fear...he thinks it would be proactive to talk, but admittingly isn't thinking further ahead...and I know it would be devistating not to talk, but know it would be worse once I share.  All I know is I would rather be consumed by fire at this moment in my life.  If only. 

Parallels

Sunday we arrived home stuffed from a late lunch and inactivity shortly thereafter watching the movie Eragon.  I don’t even recall what we ended up creating for supper, as so much of my time since then has been busy-busy-busy (everything seems a blur).  I remember it was something light and quick as we weren’t in the mood for much.  On Sunday evening our discussion began, as usual, asking the kids what they remembered of the Hanukkah story.  This time we heard a little more…and all the kids seemed free-er in their personal interpretations of the story. 

As we had just seen the story of Eragon (the kids read the book by the same name last year as part of a homeschooling book club) we took our cue from it’s story line … in which we find a formerly free country ruled by a cruel king (though, honestly, the movie didn’t carry this with any kind of weight) and how people were waiting for the dragon-rider (formerly the guardians of the land, but thought to have been made extinct through a murderous coup) to free them from their oppression.  We practiced drawing parallels in our Hanukkah story.  Not everything fit mind you (you could just as easily fit some plot points to match Star Wars…if you meshed all the movies together).  This seemed enough for the night’s studies.

Monday evening was tough.  We were throwing a party in our home this afternoon (Tuesday) and so the day time was spent cleaning things up.  I am afraid I feel back into some old habits, and dealing with OCD, and stress…well, lets say it didn’t help to lend a “teachable” time much less a family-bonding time for that evening.  We worked hard and had some hard feelings toward one another as well.  Franklin was feeling burned by what was supposed to be a quick trip to the mechanics to get the rear brakes on my car replaced (a job that would have taken him a bit longer than what the national-name brand business advertised…and so he was willing to spend a little more so that I could have the car to run errands necessary for the party as well as to pick up fresh ingredients for our Hanukkah dinner…they ended up taking an excess of three hours…leaving no time for any kind of prep…and too boot, they tried to jack up their profit by listing a ton of things that they said needed replacement/fixing…including front breaks he put on himself a couple of months ago…so we knew they weren’t being honest.  It’s always hard to pay someone for their work when you know they aren’t being honest.)  So, it was hard feelings all the way around.

The kids were given pizza for dinner…as no one really felt like eating (and pizza can be  eaten at their leisure). Franklin led the blessing over the lights, we held prayer for the meal, the kids received their blessing, and the evening’s discussion was really more of a quick story time about the intrigue leading up to the miracle.  We dismissed without too much fanfare and then crashed together to watch an old clay-mation Christmas special that I haven’t seen in years (one of my favorites, “Santa Claus is coming to town).

After the party this afternoon, the kids and I quickly cleaned up and decided that we weren’t hungry, really, for dinner.  Franklin is working this evening, and so would not be a part of the festivities…so it looked as if things were shaping up for a very casual sit-down.  My grandmother apparently fractured one of her leg-bones, and just as I was pulling things together for our observances, my mother called to see if my 16yo would mind spending the night with my grandmother for a couple of nights while she adjusted to the cast (which makes her an inch or so longer on one side).  Normally my daughter wouldn’t be allowed to go off and miss our gatherings, but since this was a special case, I decided it was necessary.  We packed quickly, and off she went across the bridge to my grandmother’s.  Pressed for time (as it was now growing quite dark), I quickly prepared our table and called my other children.  Since I was adopting

Franklin’s role, I asked if Olivia would like to do the lighting (she was thrilled).  Rather than food, we opted for a kosher, non-alcoholic juice cocktail.  The kids both mentioned how much everything felt like we were back at an older church of ours…when we could attend candle-lit evening services and take real communion-wine. 

Tonight we covered Malachi and Daniel…the prophecies and settings of both.  Both of these are covered in the Hanukkah postings offered on the sidebar…Daniel is spread out throughout all four entries, I believe…but Malachi is focused in part four (therefore, I’ll save you the rerun here).  Malachi happens to be one of my most favorite books in the Bible, by the way.  Maxwell was this close [holding fingers ½ inch apart] to being named Malachi but my husband said “no-way” as the name around these parts was greatly associated with a horrible red-headed horror movie villain.   

We spoke on revival…comparing what happened in the time after Nehemiah with what was happening with the Maccabees and those who became a part of the freedom fighters.  In both cases, they were preceded by a time when the laws and feasts were put aside and forgotten…not only by the people, but by a great part, the neglect was encouraged by the priests.  Soon, the undermining of the law cost the priests the people’s respect and need/desire for the priesthood themselves.  Those who held close the things of God, often, I’m sure, would have to wonder how much trust to give those who were to guide them in holy matters.  As I’m writing this out quickly for posting, I’m not sure how to change a conversation into “easy reading” but I shared with the children that the real danger for their souls is not those who teach other gods, but for those who come claiming Him, but in denying His truth.  For those who believe, I feel, the game continues to be to make believers doubt God’s word and then to exchange what they know as truth for a lie.  The very first man and woman were treated this way, Messiah was given the same temptation, and so were the people facing Hellenization.  I see a slow revival growing now, sturdily, in those who have belonged to a long tradition of acknowledging God but casting doubt on His word, especially in the things that God has deemed eternal.  While I don’t live in a community pursuing proper observances, I hear about it happening across my country…and it gives me a little strength.  The danger there (and oddly, I think I felt immune to it until this week when dealing with my Wikkan acquaintance) is to then take that knowledge and set a buffer zone around the law. 

Pick-Up Line Used By Santa's Elves (D)

Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful knees?

Assimiliation

My family and I are departing for "family time" soon...what that entails, I'm quite unsure.  Our purse-strings aren't guarding very much and time is limited as well.  Today was to be a day-trip date for Franklin and myself, but given the year we've had, Franklin thought a little family celebration would be in order.  All this to say, my entry will be short, sweet, concise, and nearly rabbit-trail free.

Our Hanukkah celebration was just just just wonderful.  Last night's dinner was selected by my two daughters, and consisted of three-cheese tortellini in pesto, a tomato brushetta (thinly sliced heavy wheat bread, slathered in olive oil, sprinkled generously with coarse sea salt, topped with thinly sliced ripe-red tomato and topped with a snow-fall of mozzarella cheese...all broiled to perfection) and a great fancy olive and pepper tray.  For dessert...fried black-raspberry filled donuts.

Those who might have read yesterday's post are familiar with the order our family observance...so I'll skip that for this entry, in favor of the conversation.  Once again, the children are asked what they know of the Hanukkah story.  On the second night, each one offers a little more, though still not in story mode (which is our goal...before they move out of the house, they must have a rich tapestry to pass on to my future grandchildren).  Using information gleaned from the conversation of last nights meal, each child is helping the other with details or points that the other may have neglected (now, different parts of the story are hitting differently with each child...so they all have parts that they consider "more important" for recall).  As our children grow older, and more mature, each year, more information is supplied to them...either in vocabulary, detail, history or just plain exchanging.

Last night we focused on the topic of assimiliation and the history that predated, but eventually had direct influence, upon what we now call Hanukkah.  We stopped when we came to the history of Epiphanes (not my daughter, she is much sweeter).  If you'll read Assimiliation was understood by each child, but not to the depth of what I would like...and so we went into the pros and cons of assimiliation.  Very much not known by  most who do not a) delve into ancient history of that area, and b) who do not celebrate Hanukkah, is that a large part of the Jewish population found great advantageous, even under an insane madman for a ruler, to assimililating to the Hellenistic culture.  We spoke about what assimiliation meant, spiritually as well as economically, etc., and then again quickly (as it seemed out of context for them) as to what miracle are we celebrating...two of my three were incorrect (though I could see one of those two fighting wanting to state what she knew was the correct answer, but suddenly doubted herself and decided to go with the regular program of answering "the oil lasted for an additional seven days"...which I was pleased, because people often think it was a miracle that it lasted for eight). 

The miracle was in that their was a revolt...that the people rose up and fought not only against the Seleucid superpower, but also from one another.  There were a great population of Jewish people who worked towards assimiliation for the peace and prosperity (of it's kind) that it would profit them as individuals (and perhaps, they felt an illplaced nationalism that said Hellenism would be good for their people as well.)  How hard and difficult it is not to be assimiliated when the oppressors hand is around your neck is nothing to how easy it is to be assimiliated when the betrayer is in your heart.  The miracle was, that they were going to loose...loose against the military, and loose their loved ones (through death or extreem political and religious chasms).  The miracle was...God provided...just as he continues to provide...we might feel the pressure to assimilate, we may be told that we are lesser because we do not assimilate, we might in fear crave to assimilate...and it may appear that to not do so will cost us dearly, to have us loose all.  It is in that battle, be it simply telling a friend we've known about God, or it may be if we should enter the period of Great Tribulation when we are offered life for our denial...but it is in that battle that God makes miracles.  The miracle is not in the victory the Macabees, but in their willingness at the time that they knew there was no victory be had, having no guarantee that any kind of miracle would be done for them...but doing all for the faith that they had in God.

Messianic Jews and Jews alike, place their Hanukkah menorah in their windows...they do this to declare what God has done.  To put it away from the window, to place it where no declaration is made, is equivalent to "putting your light under a bushel" as it serves no greater purpose and does not fulfill anything other than providing a little light to only those whom lit it...and what good does that do?  It declares who they are and a very very intimate moment God rekindled their trust and showed that even while weak, He is Strong (and faithful) in the face of their enemies.

I wonder if this is the seed that started the tradition of placing Christmas trees in windows?  This, honestly, is the first Christmas when I've had a window that a Christmas tree could be placed.  The window happens to be in our kitchen, just a foot or two away from our dining room table.  Last night, the firefly-like lights from the tree were the only other light aside from our Hanukkah lights.  I've never connected that tradition before...perhaps it isn't connected at all.  But last night, while sharing the placement of the Hanukkah menorah in the homes of our spiritual older brother, my eyes glanced toward my tree...knowing outside, we had no other lights adorning our home...and that it must have stood out, this tree through our window...and as a tear came to my eye, I wondered, what it spoke about me. 

For those of you who don't know, I've recently posted (at the prompting of Maria, thank you Maria...it means much more to me know that I've connected the Hanukkah lights with the tree) an entry as to why I celebrate Christmas.   In the story I used the Christmas tree throughout, and told the story of how the Christmas tree is personally symbolic for me as a gentile (and I hope that it has caused you, too, to understand that it can recall a time when darkness, like a veil, was lifted on our people.)

Thank you all, and may God cause each of  you to stop and consider Him and the great miracle He has wrought in your life.

Goosebumps reading Isaiah 43:10-19

10 “ You are My witnesses,” says the LORD,

      “ And My servant whom I have chosen,
      That you may know and believe Me,
      And understand that I am He.
      Before Me there was no God formed,
      Nor shall there be after Me.
       11 I, even I, am the LORD,
      And besides Me there is no savior.
       12 I have declared and saved,
      I have proclaimed,
      And there was no foreign god among you;
      Therefore you are My witnesses,”
      Says the LORD, “that I am God.
       13 Indeed before the day was, I am He;
      And there is no one who can deliver out of My hand;
      I work, and who will reverse it?”

Just a little conversation

Last night was the official start of the Hanukkah Feast of Lights.  You might be confused looking at your calendar, scratching your head, and thinking, "but it says it begins on another night" (unless you have a really progressive calendar, LOL).  Simple explination really, because time is regulated by a different calendar than our own, we begin celebrating the evening prior...at sundown...more specifically, when three stars can be seen in the sky.

Last night was beautiful.  I've shared last year (and you can find the links during the month of December on my right-hand side bar) what Hanukkah is...and I've been asked several times this year as to how my family celebrates Hanukkah - to which I'm thinking you are asking about why we do what we do and how we do it.  The most interesting person asking me this information happens to be an acquaintence of mine whom I just discovered is a Wiccan (...).  Regardless of where the question comes from, I always hesitate to answer specifically...especially if I know the individual is looking to add a little flavor to their Christmas celebration.  (Sounds, rude...not meant that way).  My reasoning is...I would rather have the individual study the things I share with them, and begin digging on their own, things in scripture, things in prayer, things in the movement of the Spirit.  Too often our human nature begins to make idols of things, and adding flavor, in my opinion, is the making of an idol.  Oh, maybe we don't worship those things...but we stop short of actually pursuing God in favor of the traditions and cultures that have grown up around a great miracle.  With the aquaintence, I'm not sure how to handle it...because necessarily it has to be different.  I've released little bits of information here and there, trying even to set aside the historical stories and going for the more personal things as they involve blessings and teaching.  (I've just shot off an email to her, hoping that it will generate some further interest, as she and I will see each other soon.)  Please pray.

When posting the information last year (again...scroll down on the right hand scroll bar) I saw that I wrapped up the fourth installment with the tintillating promise of perhaps more things to come: 

In the following week or so there will be a special “Companion Edition” to the Hanukkah History.  Unguarantee’d Feature-etts may be:

“ … err…what happened after”

Patterns

Jesus’ message

Future Fulfillment

Date of Christmas

Feast of Tabernacles and Hanukkah

Either I deleted them (I did have a huge typepad fiasco last spring) or I never submitted them, or I'm just not using the right key-word search on my google.  I can't even promise that I remember why I jimmy-d up those titles, but if anything sparks an interest to you, let me know and I'll do a little mini edition on my free time this week.

Back to last night...for those of you who would like to know what the first night entails for the Tookshire household:

Our menu consisted of two roasted chicken (lemon pepper), peas, latkes w/ sour cream and chunky applesauce.  Maxwell picked the dessert for the evening, which I fully expected to be some sort of breaded/fried item, but we were given the very non-traditional Cookie-Dough Icecream.  Our table was set using our finest holiday fare (our Christmas dishes, regular glasses specifically purchased to match both our holiday and regular dishes, mismatched silverware, cloth napkins, white serving dishes and platters).  Everything had to be prepared for timing with sundown, so we could have a smooth run.  Franklin said the blessing (again, see side bar) and the light was lit.  We then followed with prayer, thanking God for what he has given to us.  Afterwhich we ate dinner...and the dinner conversation entailed the children sharing with us what they remember of the history behind Hanukkah (celebrating it only once a year, even with school studies, hasn't brought about natural story tellers in my children).  This is followed by leading questions, to help them remember more specifics, or to teach them why "such-and-such" is really significant in the scheme of things.  After this, we talk to the kids about the spiritual behind Hanukkah.   (This portion will continue through the next few nights as well, with more acute points that I'll share with you in future updates to our celebration.)

As dinner comes to a close, and icecream is served, the conversation relaxed a bit...and I have no idea how Hanukkah and Alice in Wonderland were connected (probably through some weird version of 6-degrees-of-seperation), but it ended in a strong disagreement over whether in the book there was indeed an infant-turned-pig.  My younger daughter vehemently denied such a thing ever took place, to which Franklin brought out the book (which I never read to the children...whom only have seen the Disney movie for Alice) and finding the illustration, promptly showed us a bit of a pride issue when the same daughter still refused to believe it wasn't true and that only the Alice/Disney movie counted for the conversation (and she wasn't trying to be funny).  Soo...I think on a future night we will work in a little of the story of Joshua/Jason (same person) who's pride not only led him to murder his own brother (entwined with the Hanukkah story) but also led to his loosing the position for which he killed.

Once the conversation was back on track again (again...not really remembering all the different layers of conversation that reconnected the story back to Hanukkah...you know, we all rabbit trail), Franklin then began blessing the children.  This also will progress as the nights lead us onward...for those of you who are wondering "how to bless" the children...it's very simple.  It's your prayers for your child...and the child has the opportunity to hear what the parent carrys for them in his heart.  (Much different than a mommy's heart.)  I don't think children necessarily have this very often anymore, and I know that even Franklin is a bit self consious doing so.  But the prayer starts as the earlier ones, recognizing who God is, thanking Him for the blessings bestowed upon the family, and the individuals.  He then proceeds to pray for each of the children individually...consisting of sentences that you can fill in your own ending:

"Keep them from..." "Help them with..." "May they always..." "May they remember..." "Lead them to..." "Strengthen  them with..." "Cause them to remember..." "Bless them with..." etc.  Of course, you may have your own "joggers"  Some things are the same for the children, but many are tailored to the child.  With each focus of the nights being slightly different, the blessings will be different, still.  This year Franklin will be absent from three of our meals, and I'll take over both, and I'm sure that they'll be more mommified than not. (wink)  One of the nights we leave shortly after the blessings, for something we committed to before consulting the calendar, so I'm not sure how that will change things.  (Will let you know)

Isaiah 9:6

For unto us a Child is born,
      Unto us a Son is given;
      And the government will be upon His shoulder.
      And His name will be called
      Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
      Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.