Thursday, December 30, 2010

American Idol

Not much has changed since 1629 when Nicolas Poussin produced in his near-photographic style "Adoration of the Golden Calf." Taken from Exodus 32:4 the impatient Israelites grew weary of waiting for Moses to return from his encounter with God where he is given the stone tablets containing the 10 commandments. Aaron, pictured center, talked the crowd into ponying up their gold earrings which were then fashioned into the ever notorious golden calf. The party (and that's putting it politely) followed. Notice Moses and Joshua descending the mountain, commandments in hand, but not for long. The wrath of God and Moses against the idolaters and their idol resulted in the breaking of the tablets, for the law had been broken. Moses melted the calf and then ground it to powder.
I'm reading and studying for next semester's bible study at First Pres Jackson and have come face to face with my golden calf. On Christmas day. A striking conviction on the day we celebrate Emmanuel, God with us. We all have a golden calf. Where's yours? If you'll excuse me, I have some powder left to grind.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010


For many years I operated under the false notion that if I couldn't do it, I didn't need it. Every now and then I revert to thinking that way especially when it comes to sewing. I surely won't buy it if there's any way I think I can make it.
One of my favorite blogs and sources of inspiration is "Doll" the blog of Mimi Kirchner who is an absolute wizard with fabric. Once I saw her babies I was hooked and ran (with my scissors of course) to purchase the needed wool felt. Where I live we have two seasons. Summer and red-hot scorching summer. Wool of any sort is pretty much illegal here but I found it online at Weir Crafts and before long had this sweet little swaddle baby that I named Sylvia just because she looked like a Sylvia. Little did I know that Sylvia is Latin for woods but my Latin-savvy daughter pointed out the appropriateness of her name. Like my own girls, Sylvia is petite. Just under 12" tall and with no flopping arms or legs, she's just the right size for snuggling with my little grandgirls. No pattern. Just let your imagination run wild....with scissors, of course.

Maiden Voyage

Unless I've calculated incorrectly, there's at least one pair of scissors in each room of my house except the living room. The kitchen wins the prize for the most scissors. Like one or more per drawer. They're just so........cutting edge. From opening bottles and snipping pieces of bacon to the emergency hair trimming or tag removal, a good pair of scissors close at hand is a necessity. Not to even mention the stash in the sewing room. I dream of Edward Scissorhands-like dexterity. We'll get to the sewing, what's happening in the kitchen, and in my study. Ooooooh, the books, travel logs, snippets of favorite art, pieces of music, things that we think, process and talk about. All hopefully from the Christian worldview that we pray to live by grace.
But then the whole running with scissors thing is fairly illustrative of my personality bent. Running with scissors is about as reckless as I get. Case in point. I just opened (with great trepidation) a can of chili beans IN CHILI GRAVY. What if they're not tastey? What if they ruin my pot of chili? Oh no! Running with scissors! I like routine, safety and predictability, all the while professing with great gusto that I belong to a Sovereign God who directs all of His creatures and all of their actions.
So why not run? With scissors? And write about it along the way.