Things about the Thanksgiving weekend that I'm thankful for:
1. About 15 Sunday School kids showed up for the Thanksgiving Eve service.
2. We had as many choir members as Sunday School kids.
3. The kids were fairly focused during our rehearsal.
4. The choir was so patient while singing "All You Works of God" 8 or 10 times so the kids could master their parts.
5. The church service was well attended with the families of the kids.
6. The accompaniment CD worked well and the sound balance was good.
7. The Coats family arrived in time to join in on the singing.
8. Communion at the service.
9. Delicious pies afterwards.
10. The visiting dogs settled down OK.
11. David and Callie were here for three whole (and parts of two more) days.
12. We made it through the cold windy part of the Turkey Leg 5K.
13. We enjoyed the last part and Mary and I had a great conversation.
14. Pete finally won his age category in a race this year.
15. We won the Largest Family Group award, with 12 members running or walking, compared to 7 in the next largest group.
16. The award was gourmet snack boxes.
17. Mary's sweet potato dish and broccoli slaw.
18. Jody Brown's pies.
19. Seeing the Browns and the Coats, especially Cara and Elisabeth home from college.
20. Traditional Thanksgiving food.
21. Make-ahead cream cheese mashed potatoes. Yummmmm!
22. Cousin love.
23. Family sharing time in the evening.
24. Rahila shared about her school fund-raising for Heifer International and collected $63 on the spot.
25. Browns brought me a poinsettia.
26. We adults had a really excellent discussion about life, not always agreeing, but agreeing on the main things.
27. Hugs.
28. We got a 40" TV with an amazing HD picture and watched "Brave."
29. Delicious Applebee's food and stimulating conversation with David and Callie.
30. Even if I didn't have all these other things to be thankful for, I would still be thankful for Jesus Christ and His love for me. He will never leave me or forsake me, and if everything else passes away, He will remain.
Thanks Lord! Amen.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Historical Fascination
I love history! On Thursday, We traveled to the Cities on a bus with our homeschool group and were privileged to view the Terra-Cotta Warriors from China at the Minneapolis Institute of Art, and participate in a class on "Minnesota's Role in the Civil War" at the Minnesota History Center. Both experiences satisfied my interest in historical information.
Over 2000 years ago, the first Emperor of China united all the Warring States under his control and pursued his interest in immortality. He commissioned the clay craftsmen of his kingdom - by force when necessary - to produce 8000 soldiers. These craftsmen were not artists, and in fact Chinese art up to that time was very abstract, geometric and stylized. But Emperor Qin wanted the soldiers, who were buried with him so they could guard him in his afterlife, to look realistic. The craftsmen succeeded in guiding their crews to construct figures, probably a little larger than life size, which astounded our group with their authenticity. Apparently, analysis has revealed that each figure has a different face, though eight basic facial types are represented (and are still operative in China today). There were about ten warriors and horses in the exhibit, all reconstructed since no figure was found intact. Ironically, peasants who rebelled against Qin's son looted the pits for the weapons each warrior carried, and broke them in the process.
At the History Center, we learned about the First Minnesota regiment, also the first regiment enlisted in the Union Army after the firing on Ft. Sumter, because Governor Ramsey was in Washington, DC when he heard about the South's secession and immediately volunteered Minnesota citizens. The teacher of the class sparked quite a bit of participation from the students, although she couldn't get Andrew to raise his hand, and delivered an interesting video, audio and hands-on presentation. Of the 1000 men who signed up to fire a few shots and teach the Rebels a lesson, 286 were killed and 609 wounded in battle.
The leaders of the War noted the First Minnesota's bravery in its very first engagement; unlike many other regiments, it stood its ground during the Battle of Bull Run. During the Battle of Gettysburg, Major General Hancock ordered the regiment to go up against 5:1 odds and hold a spot which had been vacated by three fleeing Union regiments. Suffering an 83% casualty rate, still the highest in any encounter by any US troops, the soldiers managed to hang on to the position, and the 47 survivors returned to the Major General with their flag intact. This was a crucial turning point in the battle, which was a crucial turning point in the war.
I love all this stuff. Every detail fascinates me, and I could have spent many hours listening to and reading the information these historians displayed. It's one of the top benefits of homeschooling for me.
Over 2000 years ago, the first Emperor of China united all the Warring States under his control and pursued his interest in immortality. He commissioned the clay craftsmen of his kingdom - by force when necessary - to produce 8000 soldiers. These craftsmen were not artists, and in fact Chinese art up to that time was very abstract, geometric and stylized. But Emperor Qin wanted the soldiers, who were buried with him so they could guard him in his afterlife, to look realistic. The craftsmen succeeded in guiding their crews to construct figures, probably a little larger than life size, which astounded our group with their authenticity. Apparently, analysis has revealed that each figure has a different face, though eight basic facial types are represented (and are still operative in China today). There were about ten warriors and horses in the exhibit, all reconstructed since no figure was found intact. Ironically, peasants who rebelled against Qin's son looted the pits for the weapons each warrior carried, and broke them in the process.
At the History Center, we learned about the First Minnesota regiment, also the first regiment enlisted in the Union Army after the firing on Ft. Sumter, because Governor Ramsey was in Washington, DC when he heard about the South's secession and immediately volunteered Minnesota citizens. The teacher of the class sparked quite a bit of participation from the students, although she couldn't get Andrew to raise his hand, and delivered an interesting video, audio and hands-on presentation. Of the 1000 men who signed up to fire a few shots and teach the Rebels a lesson, 286 were killed and 609 wounded in battle.
The leaders of the War noted the First Minnesota's bravery in its very first engagement; unlike many other regiments, it stood its ground during the Battle of Bull Run. During the Battle of Gettysburg, Major General Hancock ordered the regiment to go up against 5:1 odds and hold a spot which had been vacated by three fleeing Union regiments. Suffering an 83% casualty rate, still the highest in any encounter by any US troops, the soldiers managed to hang on to the position, and the 47 survivors returned to the Major General with their flag intact. This was a crucial turning point in the battle, which was a crucial turning point in the war.
I love all this stuff. Every detail fascinates me, and I could have spent many hours listening to and reading the information these historians displayed. It's one of the top benefits of homeschooling for me.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Perspective
I'm starting our Christmas newsletter by brainstorming possible items to include. It's not every year that a trip to California will take second place in the contest for Biggest Stadem News. Andrew's confirmation and David's college graduation pale in comparison with "Welcome, Callie!" It's all a matter of perspective.
Shelley was in town all week helping her sister, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about a month ago. She slept here last night as all the relatives descended upon Lori's house for the bridal shower tomorrow honoring Jamie, Lori's daughter, who moved her wedding date from next April to this December so she can be sure her mom will be there. Their church and work communities have rallied around them and are doing a lot of the leg work for the wedding. Jamie confessed to Aunt Shelley, "When I was getting married in April, I had so many requirements. This had to be done my way and that had to be perfect. Now none of that seems to matter; I just want Mom to be well enough to enjoy my wedding." It's all a matter of perspective.
Only two days remain for Mitt Romney or President Obama to convince enough indecisive voters to propel him into office. I tend to follow politics and obsess about my concerns, so I took a break from the scene this fall and refused to watch, read or listen to political ads or commentary. I wish I could state that this cured me of my excessive interest, but I'm pretty sure that on Election Day (and for days thereafter) I'll be glued to the computer, trying to figure out what went right and wrong. However, if a member of my family died or became severely ill or injured, I wouldn't care a bit about the elections except as a distraction from things of true importance. It's all a matter of perspective.
Lord, grant us a truer perspective on life and Your kingdom. Amen.
Shelley was in town all week helping her sister, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about a month ago. She slept here last night as all the relatives descended upon Lori's house for the bridal shower tomorrow honoring Jamie, Lori's daughter, who moved her wedding date from next April to this December so she can be sure her mom will be there. Their church and work communities have rallied around them and are doing a lot of the leg work for the wedding. Jamie confessed to Aunt Shelley, "When I was getting married in April, I had so many requirements. This had to be done my way and that had to be perfect. Now none of that seems to matter; I just want Mom to be well enough to enjoy my wedding." It's all a matter of perspective.
Only two days remain for Mitt Romney or President Obama to convince enough indecisive voters to propel him into office. I tend to follow politics and obsess about my concerns, so I took a break from the scene this fall and refused to watch, read or listen to political ads or commentary. I wish I could state that this cured me of my excessive interest, but I'm pretty sure that on Election Day (and for days thereafter) I'll be glued to the computer, trying to figure out what went right and wrong. However, if a member of my family died or became severely ill or injured, I wouldn't care a bit about the elections except as a distraction from things of true importance. It's all a matter of perspective.
Lord, grant us a truer perspective on life and Your kingdom. Amen.
Monday, October 29, 2012
No Escape
Yesterday I told the kids this story from my past:
After college, I toured with a Christian singing and drama group called The Agape Players. During our summer training in Lake Wales, FL, we learned that our individual tour groups would be "like a family," riding a bus together for several hours each day. I perceived a problem with that, because these were independent, fundamentalist, separatist Baptists - Billy Graham was too liberal for them. The two-week seminar on the evils of "so-called Christian rock music" failed to convince me, but the co-founder of the organization assured me that she trusted me not to spread my false beliefs, so I proceeded with the program, reading Romans 14 multiple times each day ("let him who eats not despise the one who doesn't").
Once our tour group started up the East Coast, my frustrations grew. After our nightly stay in host homes, we had thirty minutes of quiet time, then gathered for reflection. Often one of the tour members would share, "My family seemed like a great Christian family, but then I saw" an Amy Grant album, a can of beer, or something else which would have disqualified my own family in his or her eyes. The effort of biting my tongue became too much for my young mind, and I began to devise means of escaping. I didn't think they would let me leave, so I plotted how I could sneak away and find my way to an airport, where my parents would have a ticket waiting. My free time (thankfully, there wasn't much) was consumed with these thoughts and fears.
Finally, I called home to get my parents to buy this airplane ticket. Mom informed me that Dad wasn't home, so I poured out the story to her. Though sympathetic, she knew Dad would have to make a decision like that; I would have to call again the next night and she would make sure he was there. After hearing the whole mess, Dad cleared his throat and said, "Well, Kari, you made a one-year commitment to Agape. I don't think you should quit." I hung up in despair and a couple of weeks later, we went through the same routine. The second time I hung up, I knew there was no way my father was ever going to let me quit. Interestingly enough, six weeks later, as we pulled into Florida for our Christmas break, I realized that I was happy. I hadn't made a conscious decision to make the best of it, but apparently when I gave up the possibility of leaving, my mindset changed and I was able to brush off our disagreements and appreciate the many fine qualities of my fellow Players. We keep in touch with five of them to this day.
After college, I toured with a Christian singing and drama group called The Agape Players. During our summer training in Lake Wales, FL, we learned that our individual tour groups would be "like a family," riding a bus together for several hours each day. I perceived a problem with that, because these were independent, fundamentalist, separatist Baptists - Billy Graham was too liberal for them. The two-week seminar on the evils of "so-called Christian rock music" failed to convince me, but the co-founder of the organization assured me that she trusted me not to spread my false beliefs, so I proceeded with the program, reading Romans 14 multiple times each day ("let him who eats not despise the one who doesn't").
Once our tour group started up the East Coast, my frustrations grew. After our nightly stay in host homes, we had thirty minutes of quiet time, then gathered for reflection. Often one of the tour members would share, "My family seemed like a great Christian family, but then I saw" an Amy Grant album, a can of beer, or something else which would have disqualified my own family in his or her eyes. The effort of biting my tongue became too much for my young mind, and I began to devise means of escaping. I didn't think they would let me leave, so I plotted how I could sneak away and find my way to an airport, where my parents would have a ticket waiting. My free time (thankfully, there wasn't much) was consumed with these thoughts and fears.
Finally, I called home to get my parents to buy this airplane ticket. Mom informed me that Dad wasn't home, so I poured out the story to her. Though sympathetic, she knew Dad would have to make a decision like that; I would have to call again the next night and she would make sure he was there. After hearing the whole mess, Dad cleared his throat and said, "Well, Kari, you made a one-year commitment to Agape. I don't think you should quit." I hung up in despair and a couple of weeks later, we went through the same routine. The second time I hung up, I knew there was no way my father was ever going to let me quit. Interestingly enough, six weeks later, as we pulled into Florida for our Christmas break, I realized that I was happy. I hadn't made a conscious decision to make the best of it, but apparently when I gave up the possibility of leaving, my mindset changed and I was able to brush off our disagreements and appreciate the many fine qualities of my fellow Players. We keep in touch with five of them to this day.
Monday, October 22, 2012
You Never Know
Two weeks ago, one of the posts on Faceboook informed me that Lori Wilson had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the worst of all cancers. I called Shelley, my college roommate and Lori's sister, a couple of days later; Lori was at the U of M getting a second opinion and information about her options. Now Lori is back home, able to eat, full of faith, but facing an almost certain death in a matter of months, apart from a miracle. Her daughter and fiance moved their wedding date to December 8 so Lori can attend. She will never see a grandchild, a fiftieth wedding anniversary, a parent's funeral. I can't imagine how distraught her parents are. She's 50.
This weekend we celebrated Dad Stadem's 85th birthday in Sioux Falls with 4 of the 5 children, 14 of the 18 grandchildren, a niece and a great-nephew with their families. His joy, and all of ours, overflowed as he watched an Augustana football game, received compliments and reminiscences, feasted on several hotdishes and a Norwegian birthday cake, listened to "Happy Birthday!" sung by his congregation, sipped coffee and munched on quick breads during coffee hour, and heard "God Didn't Give Me Much" sung by his family in the second worship service. (That song isn't what the title implies!)
Why does one see all his children's children, and one see none? We don't know; it's in God's hands. But I want to hug those I love, live each day to the fullest, and "grow in faith, love and obedience to the will of God," because you never know how many days are left.
This weekend we celebrated Dad Stadem's 85th birthday in Sioux Falls with 4 of the 5 children, 14 of the 18 grandchildren, a niece and a great-nephew with their families. His joy, and all of ours, overflowed as he watched an Augustana football game, received compliments and reminiscences, feasted on several hotdishes and a Norwegian birthday cake, listened to "Happy Birthday!" sung by his congregation, sipped coffee and munched on quick breads during coffee hour, and heard "God Didn't Give Me Much" sung by his family in the second worship service. (That song isn't what the title implies!)
Why does one see all his children's children, and one see none? We don't know; it's in God's hands. But I want to hug those I love, live each day to the fullest, and "grow in faith, love and obedience to the will of God," because you never know how many days are left.
Monday, October 15, 2012
A Hoppin' Day at Svea
Svea was rockin' out yesterday! Little Feather, a mime clown, graced our Family Sunday School hour with her version of making cupcakes. The elementary age boys got quite a kick out of her silent misreading of the directions - "put in 6 eggs" meant shells on, of course, and "put in paper cups and bake in oven" resulted in the muffin cups thrown into the batter and the whole bowl in the imaginary oven. When she pulled out a pan of cupcakes, one boy said, "You ARE magic!"
Callie played a fifteen-minute harp prelude, which enabled everyone to enter a worshipful attitude (except me - I had to keep preparing for the various events). Pete led worship because Pastor Mary's grandpa died. He had the kids do a skit for the sermon - he was the governor hiring a chief of staff to represent him; David, Callie, Daniel, Andrew & Philip all arrogantly informed him of their superior qualifictions; Hannah, played by Sarah, humbly suggested that she would do her best because she believed in his cause - and was hired. They improvised and provoked lots of laughter. Then Pete wrapped it up by encouraging us all to trust God when we are brought low. Good stories. Jake gave a Temple Talk to tell us that we're in great financial condition.
Zach Sowers, on his 18th birthday, sang "Who Am I?" which fit in perfectly - he volunteered to sing it a couple of weeks ago, knowing nothing of the theme. Thanks Lord! After worship, we held a mini-recital. Nina Thompson, granddaughter of Jan & Ed, played two pieces on the piano; Jordan sang "Danza, Danza" in Italian; Zach sang a piece and accompanied himself on electric guitar; Callie played a very fun and jazzy song called "Great Day" on the harp.
When all this was over, the Luther League families enjoyed a potluck and set some dates for future events. We arrived home, Pete took a nap and packed up bikes, and Philip, Pete and I met the Sowers, Chambers and Johnsons at the high school for a bike ride to Spicer. I had good visits with Patti, Dianne, Darla and Dean. Ethan Johnson sped the entire distance on roller blades!
We parted from the Svea folk, watched the Vikings lose and had pizza at my folks', and Skyped with Michelle and Saul from 8:30-10. What a day! Praise the Lord!
Callie played a fifteen-minute harp prelude, which enabled everyone to enter a worshipful attitude (except me - I had to keep preparing for the various events). Pete led worship because Pastor Mary's grandpa died. He had the kids do a skit for the sermon - he was the governor hiring a chief of staff to represent him; David, Callie, Daniel, Andrew & Philip all arrogantly informed him of their superior qualifictions; Hannah, played by Sarah, humbly suggested that she would do her best because she believed in his cause - and was hired. They improvised and provoked lots of laughter. Then Pete wrapped it up by encouraging us all to trust God when we are brought low. Good stories. Jake gave a Temple Talk to tell us that we're in great financial condition.
Zach Sowers, on his 18th birthday, sang "Who Am I?" which fit in perfectly - he volunteered to sing it a couple of weeks ago, knowing nothing of the theme. Thanks Lord! After worship, we held a mini-recital. Nina Thompson, granddaughter of Jan & Ed, played two pieces on the piano; Jordan sang "Danza, Danza" in Italian; Zach sang a piece and accompanied himself on electric guitar; Callie played a very fun and jazzy song called "Great Day" on the harp.
When all this was over, the Luther League families enjoyed a potluck and set some dates for future events. We arrived home, Pete took a nap and packed up bikes, and Philip, Pete and I met the Sowers, Chambers and Johnsons at the high school for a bike ride to Spicer. I had good visits with Patti, Dianne, Darla and Dean. Ethan Johnson sped the entire distance on roller blades!
We parted from the Svea folk, watched the Vikings lose and had pizza at my folks', and Skyped with Michelle and Saul from 8:30-10. What a day! Praise the Lord!
Saturday, October 6, 2012
I'm a Tea Diva!
About two weeks ago, I opened a new box of Good Earth tea and made myself a mug as usual. My first sip puckered my mouth; what was this bitter taste? I finished the mug reluctantly, assuming a bad bag had eluded quality control. But the next mug, and the mug after that, caused procrastination and dismay. What was wrong with my tea?? I supplemented with sugar and cinnamon, which helped me drink the whole mug but added an unpleasant aftertaste.
I bought two boxes at each of two different stores, thinking maybe quality control had missed a whole batch. Every mug brought the same disappointment. A friend didn't notice any difference and enjoyed her mug, which puzzled me. But when Pete tried it, he agreed, "There's definitely something different." I limped through my days, dreading each sip but continuing to drink tea out of habit and a belief in the importance of getting water into my system.
At the church, I used a bag which had been in my purse. The tea was good! Later that day, at my parents' house, another bag from the purse produced the same result. I thought perhaps it was the water, since the farm had switched wells about the time this whole ordeal began. So I brought a bag from home and used the church water to brew a new mug, hoping against hope that this would solve the problem. It didn't.
Finally I called Good Earth's number and spoke with a young man who blithely vowed that they changed their recipe about a year ago, and the boxes with 18 tea bags had "artificial flavors" as an ingredient, while the boxes with 25 bags had the old recipe of "natural flavors" as an ingredient. His unrepentant manner irritated me and I pressed him a little, hoping for at least an apology or a coupon, but he just continued to assure me that I needed to find the boxes with 25 bags.
Pete and I searched the stores of Willmar over the next few days, finding no boxes with 25 bags of Good Earth tea. Sure enough, all the boxes we found had "artificial flavors" listed as the third ingredient. I found 25-bag boxes online at the Good Earth site and ordered a bunch, afraid to expect the best but wanting to continue to drink tea. They arrived within a few days, with "natural flavors" listed as the third ingredient. I fearfully poured the water over the bag in the mug, waited ten minutes, gingerly tasted it, and - smiled in delight! The delicious taste of Good Earth original tea filled my mouth.
I'm not sure what to make of all this. Certainly it's a symptom of a massively wealthy culture. But I'm very grateful to once again drink mug after mug of delicious sweet and spicy tea throughout my day.
I bought two boxes at each of two different stores, thinking maybe quality control had missed a whole batch. Every mug brought the same disappointment. A friend didn't notice any difference and enjoyed her mug, which puzzled me. But when Pete tried it, he agreed, "There's definitely something different." I limped through my days, dreading each sip but continuing to drink tea out of habit and a belief in the importance of getting water into my system.
At the church, I used a bag which had been in my purse. The tea was good! Later that day, at my parents' house, another bag from the purse produced the same result. I thought perhaps it was the water, since the farm had switched wells about the time this whole ordeal began. So I brought a bag from home and used the church water to brew a new mug, hoping against hope that this would solve the problem. It didn't.
Finally I called Good Earth's number and spoke with a young man who blithely vowed that they changed their recipe about a year ago, and the boxes with 18 tea bags had "artificial flavors" as an ingredient, while the boxes with 25 bags had the old recipe of "natural flavors" as an ingredient. His unrepentant manner irritated me and I pressed him a little, hoping for at least an apology or a coupon, but he just continued to assure me that I needed to find the boxes with 25 bags.
Pete and I searched the stores of Willmar over the next few days, finding no boxes with 25 bags of Good Earth tea. Sure enough, all the boxes we found had "artificial flavors" listed as the third ingredient. I found 25-bag boxes online at the Good Earth site and ordered a bunch, afraid to expect the best but wanting to continue to drink tea. They arrived within a few days, with "natural flavors" listed as the third ingredient. I fearfully poured the water over the bag in the mug, waited ten minutes, gingerly tasted it, and - smiled in delight! The delicious taste of Good Earth original tea filled my mouth.
I'm not sure what to make of all this. Certainly it's a symptom of a massively wealthy culture. But I'm very grateful to once again drink mug after mug of delicious sweet and spicy tea throughout my day.
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