Archive for April, 2007

4 Killed in Turkey in Bible Publisher Attack

Friday, April 27th, 2007

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In the uproarious headlines in our own nation last week, you may have missed this: 

THROATS SLIT AT BIBLE PUBLISHER.  4 DEAD INCLUDING THE OWNER
OF THE PUBLISHING COMPANY.
ISTANBUL. 4.18.07 – Three employees of a publishing house that distributes Bibles were bound hand to foot and had their throats slit…in a series of murderous attacks targeting Turkey's Christian minority.  A fourth victim died jumping from the third floor office in an attempt to escape the attack in Malatya, Turkey.  The attack took place late Wednesday morning at the offices of Zirve, a Christian Publishing House that distributes Bibles.  Founded a year ago, Zirve
had already requested police protection for its employees due to threats and accusations of employees leading neighborhood Bible Studies.
According to Asia News, Zirve, the only company that distributed Christian texts and Bibles in Turkey, was Protestant led, but printed materials for Catholics in the region, as well.
An aide to the Matalya governor told Agence France-Presse that the publishing house "was engaged in missionary activities."

There are literally stacks of Bibles in my house.  I have old ones I've kept from my parents, some of my earlier study Bibles; I have NIVs, NASVs, NLTs, The Message, The Living Bible, The New Spirit-filled Life Study Bible in NKJV, old KJV's. I have leather-bounds next to paperbacks stacked on hardbacked copies.  I have children's versions from when the kids were young.  I can access Biblical references at any time, have it read to me right off the internet and make several trips a day to www.biblegateway.com.  When I travel, I always check and am still pleased to see the Gideon-placed Bible in the nightstand at motels and hotels around our country.

The Bible is God's Word.  I have often said, in safe Christian, American settings, "I love the Word of God."  But I have never been asked to die because of it.  I can carry any of my Bibles around and read them publicly without fear of retribution.  I rarely do, but I could.  Most American Christians don't even carry a Bible to church these days because they can look at a PowerPoint screen or doodle on an announcement sheet, which they then leave lying on the seat…

We are so used to the abundant ownership and free use of the Bible in our country, we cannot even fathom and barely dare to believe that there are people dying for this thing, this Bible – the very Word of God to mankind.  What do they get that we forget, these Christians who know that by publishing and distributing Bibles in hostile nations they may have to die?  And what of governements who outlaw it?  Or those who would kill to be rid of it?  Don't they show more faith in its power as the Word of a living God than we do, we who "believe" in it?

For heaven's sake, read your Bible.  Know God through it.  Love it, love His words.  Speak it.  Learn it.  Memorize it.  Be enlightened by it.  Get equipped by it.  Be corrected by it.  But whatever you do – don't just let it sit on the coffee table awaiting your next little Bible Study with friends like it's just another book you can take or leave.

My great friend and co-mother-in-law/grandma (we share Dave & Tara & Hunter) leads a teaching ministry called Get the Word Out! Intensives (www.getthewordout.cc).  The basic intensive is an overnighter that will throw you into the deep end of understanding the Bible, the Word of God. You CAN get understanding from the Word everytime you venture in.  Check out the website.  Figure out a way to get to one of the upcoming intensives.  Come to really know Jesus as the Living Word and maybe figure out why people are still willing to die for what you so nonchalantly possess.

Just thinking, Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF:  "All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction,    for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work."         2 Timothy 3.16 NJKV 

Pray for Mary Jean, who, by the way, is in Turkey as I post this…

April fools

Thursday, April 19th, 2007

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In the aftermath of the tragedy at Virginia Tech this past Monday, we are all wondering why?  And what is it about April that is bringing out the beast with too much regularity?  Virginia is a long way from where I live, but the evil and the hate and the hopelessness that causes these events isn't.

We need to pray for our nation today – right now - and specifically for students on college campuses, high schools, junior high schools, – every school.  May God lift the despair and fear from the hearts of our young; may they be merciful as God is to them; may they be respected and respect others; may they be strong and courageous in their actions and character; let them long for and be instruments of Your peace; God, make us a people of humility, of compassion, -people who will take responsibility for our actions.  Make us grateful for what we have and deliver us of the stupor of taking our rights and liberties and freedoms and daily blessings for granted.  Keep our children safe, God, today…tomorrow…and as the days go on.  Give them peace in their minds and hearts and emotions.  Send people to rescue the hurting and desperate, Lord.  Send some one… 

Virginia Tech massacre – April 16, 2007

Columbine High School massacre – April 20, 1999

Oklahoma City bombings April 19, 1995

God, help us. J-

NOTE: "To do evil is like sport to a fool…" Proverbs 10. 23 NKJV

Stormie Dae “She’s the baby-gotta love her!”

Saturday, April 14th, 2007

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A couple of days after splashing in the pool with our first 4 kids during an unusually hot and sunny beginning to spring in Sioux City, Iowa, a freak ice storm hit the area and there were many travel warnings.  "Don't go out in this unless you have to," they said. We had to.  It was high-time for baby number 5, Stormie Dae Rhoades, to arrive and luckily, we lived just a block from the hospital, perhaps 3 if you count having to go around and enter at the emergency room exit (an area where just weeks later, Rocky, age 1 & 1/2 would "drive" our car into the side of the hospital wall when we had to make a quick trip back…this is another story entirely…).

Back then, you didn't know the sex of the baby ahead of time.  It was all speculation, but a very strong heartbeat and her mammoth size pointed toward a strong, healthy girl.  She had been due on April 2.  Thirteen very long days later: volia!  And weighing in at 9 pounds, 10 ounces, we were certain we had not mixed up the dates.

Stormie was planned as a "gift" for her brother, Rocky (in a sort of "oh, we're pregnant again" surprise! way).  We'd had a girl…then another…then another…and may have stopped having kids then if Rocky, the fourth child, hadn't turned out to be a boy.  We felt we must try for a brother for him, or at least make him an older brother to a sister so he could learn to hold his own.  I would say to this very day, even as she is turning 21, she remains a great gift to Rocky (the only sister who took no crap off of him) and a great gift to us all.

How she got her name.  Naturally, you have already figured out that since she was born in a freak ice and snow storm, the name "Stormie" fits, but what you don't know is that I had almost used the name "Stormie" with every single previous daughter.  When I was pregnant with Tara, I ran across some lyrics written by Stormie Omartian called, "Seasons of the Soul."  I was so moved by them, Tara nearly had a different name.  By the time Steph came along a few years later, I had read a magazine article or two about Stormie Omartian and heard more of her music and Steph was gonna get the name, but she ended up being premature and the name "Stormie" just seemed too big for our tiny, struggling-to-breathe baby girl.  Baby girl number 3 came along and "Stormie" was on the table again, but we decided to go with "Tredessa" (the name of a sweet little girl I babysat as a teen) because she looked so exotic.  "Stormie" didn't seem right for Rocky, either, so it was still available when our last little one was born and there was no question by that time.  So, really – she was named for Stormie Omartian – an incredibly godly woman whose personal testimony and way of communicating through song has touched my life deeply over the years (not to mention her fame as one of the best prayer authors/experts alive today).  My Stormie reads Stormie Omartian's books and knows she is named for a woman who trusted God to turn her hurts into healing for others, an admirable life, worthy of emulation.

The servant.  Stormie is a servant-hearted girl and big giver. The whole family can rely on her and she keeps "adopting" needy children around the world to support.  I have seen her quietly give big gifts to families in crisis and watched her cry big tears for the broken.  Her heart is bigger than she is, held ever-so-gently by the compassionate hands of Christ, I have no doubt.

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 Stormie, I am so pleased with you.  You have been our little Stinky, mommy's cuddler.  I have seen you play in a tutu (with your long, skinny toothpick legs) doing a roller-skating routine and watched you careen by with scraped knees chasing Rocky on rollerblades.  I got to watch the woman in you emerge when, as you wore your first bra and wore a dress and tights and black, patent-leather shoes in honor of the milestone, you told us, "It feels so nice to be a lady."  When you saw a need on a worship team and were asked to learn, you spent countless hours alone learning the bass to bring glory to God, to be a blessing.  And just this past Sunday, on Easter, I watched you in the shadows once again, playing for His Name, His acclaim with your siblings and I loved you even more…again. I am waiting for you to go public with that beautiful voice, when the time is right and the song rises so strong within you that it cannot be silenced. I am so pleased with you, Stormie – who God has created you to be, and how you are dying to self to become that woman.

Happy birthday, Stormkins.  Your mommy loves you.  "As long as you're living, my baby you'll be…" Mom

NOTE TO SELF: Kiss my little Stormkins all over her face.  Give her many, many hugs.  Celebrate her life and thank God for the joy she has brought to me. (pictured: Top- Stormie, 9 months & me in Jan. 1987; Above – That's me and the baby on Easter Sunday 2007)

1.4 blogs are born every second & other important miscellany

Thursday, April 12th, 2007

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My son-in-law, Tristan, sent me this news recently:

David Sifry has released Technorati's latest "State of Blogosphere"
report today.  Sifry's post tells us that Technorati is now tracking
more than 70 million blogs.  That's up from 51 million at their last
report.  He also points out that new blogs are coming online at a
rate of 120,000 per day (or roughly 1.4 blogs per second).

What the heck are all you people trying to say?  My goodness, we are desperate to be heard, huh?  I started my blog (see my very first post on 11.29.06 "Top Ten Reasons I'm Blogging") with the thought that I could put all these tidbits down for my kids to consider (and because my mom thinks I should write) and now I have to nag my kids to read it!  Ha!  I am just trying to get a word in edgewise here, people.

She rants.

On Good Morning America a few days ago, they ran a story about the minivan makeover by the Chrysler Group who are now offering, for just under $60,000, live satellite feed in your cars.  They hooked us in with "No more DVDs keeping the kids quiet…."  

GMA's guest "expert", Jane O'Donnell of USA Today, commented: "I remember asking my parents 'when are we gonna be there' and my daughter still does that, but she goes right right back to her movie and I might not hear from her for another hour or so." 

"That's the kind of experience mothers crave.  Now imagine if you could put your kids in the back of a minivan and have them glued to satellite TV watching children's programming," came the voice of the journalist reporting the story, you'd have a "driving dream come true."

At which time one of the co-anchors laughed, "Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?"  And told us, "There is a way to silence them."

Omigosh.  Do I even need to explain on how many levels this bugged the heck out of me?!? 

Kids, let's take a trip and ride for several hours and
God forbid you should look out the windows
and see any of the countryside or the occasional cow. 
And don't even think about yakking at me!
Yes, let's use this time to further pound
your little brains with more movies and now –  
live commercials for the entire trip.

I shall stop before this becomes truly vile.

E-mail forwards.

I get them all the time.  We all do, right?  Some have made me laugh so hard I have cried.  Some have been motivating and inspiring.  Some are pretty freakin' sappy.  But still they come, faster than clockwork.  And I actually do enjoy many of them.  They have become forums for people who have a lot to say (but haven't yet gotten a blog, apparently).

But here is my beef… I got one today with a really good poem, one which I have probably received 27 or 28 times already, but a good reminder, nonetheless.  It came from this hilarious, wonderful friend, whom I do not get to see very often, but she likes to send me good stuff, funny forwards, etc.  I usually don't send them on – or if I do, I try to cut and paste then warn the recipients (generally my mom, who loves forwards) that it isn't really something from me – just something that made me think of them.  I sent one recently that celebrated marriages and was sure to tell everyone: no pressure, no curses on you if you break it.  It hasn't been circulating unbroken for the last 13 & 1/2 years and no one will be harmed if you are the person who stops it.

So anyway – I get this good poem, which some caring person knew would bless the recipients, but along the way, it has gotten surrounded in words and phrases like:

If I don't get this back, I will know you didn't really read it.
Too bad that the person who sent this to me didn't even know
10 people who were willing to admit to knowing the Lord.
If I sent this to you, please send it back so I will know that
my friends do know the Lord.
Do you love Him?
This is a simple test:
If you love Jesus, send this to at least 10 people including the
person who sent it to you.

Rebellious by nature, I think you know that I am not sending it on and I refuse to try to prove I love the Lord by doing so and instead of "sending it back (she already got it – why would she need it again?  To send it back to ME?  Eeks!), I wrote a quick note to my friend to let her know I got it (she will understand this – the reason I can write about it).  But you know what?  FORWARDS aren't true meaningful communication.  They are fun for people with extra time on their hands.

Let the deleting begin.

I think it is the April snow that has me in this prickly mood.  But I pray blessing on you anyway!  Really!  Jeanie

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NOTE TO SELF:  Think how green the grass will be in a few days.   (Tristan with Guinivere, above; Guini, Gavin & Hunter, left.  On Easter)

The cross

Sunday, April 8th, 2007

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I already knew that for Easter, I wanted to talk a little about the cross because of this beautiful photograph my great friend, Amy Jo Becker, recently took.  One foggy morning in late March on her way to work, she spied this display near 120th & Sheridan in Westminister, CO (Victory Church) and thought to capture it for us all to ponder.  Even now, 2000 years later, this representation evokes such such gratefulness and awe in my heart.

Imagine my delight when, this past Thursday, Gavin, my 3-year-old grandson, ran into the kitchen, suddenly dropped to his knees on the tile floor and began to exclaim, "Look, Nonna, it's God…it's Jesus."  I thought for a split second we were going to have to open our house for tours because it seemed he had discovered an Easter miracle on my floor (I was hoping it wasn't the form of Jesus in a dirt spot or something for all the world to see), but then I watched him as he took his finger and traced between the ceramic tiles, first up and down, then side to side: he drew a cross.  How excited, I can tell you, a grandma becomes when she realizes her toddler grandson has become aware of the cross of Jesus Christ, something one writer called "the dividing symbol of all history."

We then went around the house and looked for the cross anywhere we could find it: between the panels on doors, on my old school-house window coffee table.  Then, he "discovered" my cross collection and became especially excited by my very small replica of the very large "Christ the Redeemer" statue which stands high on the Corcovado Mountain in Rio de Janeiro.  "It's God!  It's Jesus!  It's the cross!" Gavin would squeal with every new discovery, exhibiting more understanding than many full-grown Christians, I thought.

Two hours later, Gavin came out of the bathroom with a beautiful tiled cross Marilyn Frandsen had given me and reverently showed me his "find," which he then carried around with him for the rest of his visit while he played.

The cross stands against the skyline of all time as the greatest symbol of the central fact of Christianity – the death of Jesus Christ in our place.  Yes, He died.  Yes, He was buried.  But that is only a part of the good news.  He didn't stay on that cross, He rose from death, and oh – what was won in that victory for me – for me, It's God!  It's Jesus!  It's the cross!  Yeah!!!

The Cross by Max Lucado
It rests on the timeline of history like a compelling diamond.
It's tragedy summons all sufferers.  Its absurdity attracts all cynics. 
It's hope lures all searchers.  History has idolized and despised it,
gold-plated and burned it, worn it and trashed it.  History has done
everything but ignore it.  How could you?  How could you ignore such
a piece of lumber?  Suspended on its beams is the greatest claim
in history.  A crucified carpenter claiming to be GOD on earth.
Divine.  Eternal.  The Death-Slayer.  Never has timber been regarded
so sacred.  No wonder the Apostle Paul called The Cross event the
core of The Gospel (1 Cor. 15.3-5).  Its bottom line is
sobering: if the account is true, it's history's hinge.  Period.
If not, The Cross is history's hoax.
As you ponder Christ on the Cross, what are your thoughts?…

Joyous blessings to you today as we celebrate a risen Savior, Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF: See the cross.  Ponder it.  Understand it.  Thank God for it.  Sing some Matt  Redman: You led me to the cross and I saw the face of mercy in that place of love…Now that I'm living in Your all-forgiving love,  my every road leads to the cross..

Sleep, day seven (On the 7th day, even God rested!)

Sunday, April 1st, 2007

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Sleep.  Rest.  Be at peace. 

God can handle everything without you – really He can.

Be blessed, Jeanie

NOTE TO SELF: "Here's an activity that I recommend: Find a shaft of sunlight, curl up in the puddle of its warmth and nap with doglike dereliction." – Scrap of paper I once tore from a newspaper