Janet's Blog

I thoroughly enjoy Sunday morning worship at Calvary in Gering.  We are so blessed to worship there, and to have the privilege of joining so many other Christians in praise of our gracious God.  I love the great variety of music that we sing, from the oldest hymns to the most contemporary songs of praise.  I love to hear the instruments that change from week to week and month to month, from piano, organ, and synth, to violin and sax, flute, electric and acoustic guitar, bass, and even drums.  The Bible exhorts God's people to praise Him with every known instrument, so I am blessed to be in a place where the people direct their praises to God, sometimes pensively, sometimes exuberantly, but always fervently, using every instrumentalist that Pastor Phil can persuade to join the worship team.   I was thinking about this last September, and I began to wonder if I was placing too much emphasis on the music, and not enough on God Himself.  I meditated and prayed about this for days.  I

I attended Sunday School and Vacation Bible School regularly, beginning at the age of three, but my first real school experience began with morning Kindergarten at Lincoln Elementary School in Norfolk.  We lived at the Oxnard Hotel, three blocks away from the school.  Most days, I walked to school by myself, even at the age of five.  Nearly all kids walked to school then, so I met several children along the way to walk with.  When the weather was extremely cold, Mom or Dad drove me to school.  Sometimes, though, when Dad was gone and Mom had to stay at the hotel within earshot of the front desk, she would call a taxi.  Mom would give me a quarter to hand to the taxi driver, who would drive me to school.  Occasionally, she would send the taxi to pick me up from school, too, paying the driver when I got home. Kindergarten was much more basic then than it is today.  Most mothers were stay-at-home moms, so daycare centers and preschools didn't exist.  For most children, Kindergarten

When I think of desirable hotel amenities today, I think of things like a pool and hot tub, an exercise room (which I've never used), an iron and ironing board in each room, and complimentary breakfast that includes do-it-yourself waffles.  Every room has a large screen TV with numerous channels, and perks like computers and internet access have become more important in recent years. Neither the Oxnard nor the Mary-Etta had any of these amenities.  In fact, most of the rooms didn't even have private bathrooms.  Although every room had its own sink, many guests had to use the communal bathroom located down the hall.  In the summer, hotel guests who wanted to swim could drive the short distance to the city pool, but hot tubs were unheard of.  At the Mary-Etta, guests who wanted exercise could take the stairs instead of the elevator.  Guests at the Oxnard had no choice--there was no elevator there.  Guests could borrow an iron and ironing board, if needed, but they had to ask. 

"Mom, come quick!"  I never know quite what to expect when I hear those words.  This time, Victoria was calling to me from the backyard, where she had taken her dog, Jackson, out to play.  "Look at all these ants," she said.  Well, I've seen plenty of ants over the years, so I wasn't too excited about seeing more.   But I dutifully walked outside.  And she was right; this time, the ants were definitely worth seeing. I didn't know that ants could swarm.  There, on our backyard basketball court, thousands of tiny black ants were stacked nearly an inch deep in a pile that stretched for more than a foot in diameter.  I don't know why they were there.  Perhaps we had disturbed their underground habitat the day before, when we emptied the water from Levi's swimming pool.  Maybe all ants swarm periodically, as bees do, to split an ant colony into two or more new colonies.  Whatever the reason, I knew that I didn't want that many ants in my backyar

The Mary-Etta party rooms were huge.  The two rooms, the Amber Room and the Gold Room, were connected by two sets of double doors, which could be closed to accommodate two separate events, or left open for one big party.  The rooms were accessed by climbing up four or five steps that rose from the hotel lobby.  Throughout the year, service clubs such as Rotary and Lions Club met once a week for lunch.  By the time I was twelve, I helped serve most of the noon luncheons during the summer months.  I believe it was the Lions Club men who sang at every meeting before we served them.  I remember standing with the other waitresses just inside the kitchen door, balancing an oval, metal tray of filled dinner plates, until we heard the strains of "Waiter, waiter, waiter, won't you wait on me?"  That was our cue to enter the Amber Room to serve the men who were waiting for their food. The party rooms were often used for wedding receptions, proms, and other teen dances.  I remembe