Janet's Blog

What a wonderful gift she is, little Evelyn Marie Stobel, born on December 18 at 4:41 a.m., just in time for Christmas.  Big brother Tobin's footprint and hand prints decorate the shirt she wore on Christmas Day.  The above picture does a pretty good job of showing what Evie is like.  So far, she sleeps a lot, cries only a little, looks around with her big blue eyes.  She is usually content, and that is a good thing.   Evelyn was born a little later than expected, but she was definitely worth waiting for.  She looks quite a bit like Tobin, and a lot like her mother's baby pictures.  She weighed 6 lbs. 6 oz. and measured 20 1/4 inches shortly after birth.  At her first check-up this week, she weighed 6 lbs.13 oz. and had stretched out to 21 1/2 inches in length.  Evelyn has long arms and fingers, and long legs and toes.  She is growing quickly, probably because she nurses so efficiently. I have been told that Meagan and Andy finally settled on her name on Thanksgivi

Janet Bauer, 2013 We thank You, dear Lord, this day of Your birth, For leaving Your throne to come down to the Earth. Oh, Babe in the manger, be with us, we pray, Grant all that we need to sustain us this day. We thank You for food and for family, too, But most of all, Jesus, we're thankful for You. We celebrate, Lord, this day of Your birth, That You came to rescue your people on Earth. Oh, Jesus, Messiah, be with us, we pray, We need Your forgiveness and mercy each day. We sing with the multitudes praising above. We can't live without You; We rest in Your love. We can't pay You back for blessings untold, We can't bring You frankincense, myrrh, or fine gold; We only have thanks for You, Jesus, our King. We raise up glad voices, in harmony sing. Oh, Jesus, Redeemer, for all that You do, Oh, Babe in the manger, we're thankful for You. Yes, most

When they were still teenagers, my Dad gave Mom a beautiful, blue music box, with a ballerina that spins to the music. As a young child, it was a special treat for me to wind that music box and watch the ballerina dance.  For a long time, that was the only music box we had.  Then, over time, Mom began to collect music boxes.  I'm not sure that she really intended to acquire such a large collection, but family members started giving them to her for special occasions after they realized how much she liked music boxes. I don't collect music boxes, but I love them, too, just as my mother does.  As I was searching for music boxes on the internet recently, I was surprised that I couldn't find very many true music boxes.  Most contemporary music boxes are really snow globes that must be shaken to produce "snow," then wound to play the music.  Some of them are incredibly tacky, and some are exquisitely beautiful but, no matter what, they don

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite Christmas carols was "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful."  I loved to hear the organist play the majestic melody as the congregation raised their voices, over and over again, for that mighty refrain, "Oh, come let us adore Him."  I was intrigued whenever I heard the Latin version, Adeste Fideles , and was thrilled when I was finally able to sing along in Latin.  " Venite Adoramus, Dominum ; Come, let us adore the Lord."  Somehow, those Latin lyrics made the hymn seem even more majestic, if that was possible.  To me, this hymn was an essential part of any Christmas celebration, because it called each one of us to come and worship Jesus, who was born to be our Savior and King. Years later, I was excited to hear a new Christmas song on the radio.  "Come On, Ring those Bells" was contemporary, through and through--a great contrast to the old Christmas carols I knew and cherished--but I loved that new Christma

Right now, the whole country seems to be laboring under a burden of doom and gloom.  Many citizens are extremely frustrated with our president's questionable decisions and with the stagnation of the U.S. Congress.  People are uncertain about our country's economy and its new health care laws.  Some people need jobs and adequate housing.  Many mourn the deaths of friends or family members or celebrities.  Even our favorite football teams suffer from lackluster performance. I can sense the mounting depression that envelopes our nation.  Too many people have no hope. Yet now, in early December, whether we like it or not, we are plunging into the Christmas season.  Worldly worries threaten to ruin the coming festivities.  Still, we have to shop, wrap gifts, decorate, bake, address cards, attend holiday programs and parties, make travel plans.  There is just too much to do, at a time when many people just don't feel like celebrating. Thousands of years ago, the prophet Isa

A couple of years ago, I heard a friend lamenting that there were very few contemporary Christian hymns of thanks.  As I thought about it, I realized that he was right.  Contemporary Christian music includes many uplifting hymns of praise, but not too many hymns of thanksgiving.  And, I realized that, out of all the music that I've written, none of them could be classified as hymns of thankfulness.  I didn't sit down right then to write a song, but I mulled it over, off and on, for a long time.  Then, one day this past August, seemingly out of the blue, this song happened.  I love it when God surprises me like that!  So now, as we prepare to celebrate another Thanksgiving Day with our families, I'd like to share this song with you as I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.  Magnify My Thanks   Though my faith is little; You give me much: The crown of life, Your sovereign touch; The Father's care, the Savior's love, The Spirit's blessings from above.

It took me fifty years to realize that the president was shot on my grandma's birthday.  It must have had some awful impact on her, even though she never mentioned it to me.  That one event impacted every living American, and a huge number of other people throughout the world.  Republican or Democrat, young or old, male or female, whatever their circumstances, anyone who was five years old or more can tell you where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news.  Just ask them! I remember that day well.  It was a crisp, sunny, fall day in Norfolk, Nebraska.  Dan and I had gone home for lunch, as usual, since Lincoln Elementary School didn't have a hot lunch program.  We walked back to school shortly before one o'clock.  Our teachers met us outside the front door of the school, and told us the news, that the president had been shot.  Then, they sent us all back home again.  Dan and I ran all the way home to shout the horrifying news to Mom and Dad.  I don'

When our daughter Meagan was just a toddler, she was enamored by tractors.  Whenever she was strapped into her car seat, she would while away the time just looking for tractors.  And, whenever she spotted one, she would proclaim it loudly--"red tractor" or "blue tractor."   However, her greatest excitement was reserved for those John Deere's that are found throughout our part of the country.  When she spotted one, Meagan would yell, over and over again, "green tractor, green tractor, GREEN tractor!"  Did I mention that Meagan's favorite color is green? Until recently, I didn't realize that a love of tractors, particularly green ones, could be hereditary.  But, I guess my grandson, Tobin, comes by it naturally.  I've been told that his dad, Andy, has always loved those green tractors, too.  Tobin carries his love of farm implements just a little further than either of his parents, though.  At the age of twenty-one months, he knows that h

My niece, Lindsey, married her childhood friend, Brian, on Saturday.  It was a beautiful wedding.  The bride was glowing.  The flower girls and ring bearers were cute and well-behaved.   The recessional music was unique and awe-inspiring.  The reception was fun.  The food was good.  Yes, it was a beautiful wedding. Yet, I wish for so much more for Lindsey and Brian.  I hope that their wedding day provides an inspiring beginning to a beautiful, lasting marriage.  I wish them happiness that lasts a lifetime.  I hope that they will continue to love each other day by day, year by year, with a love that grows and matures as time goes by. But mere wishes amount to nothing.  As the old English proverb says, "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."  If marriage were easy, all couples would stay together "'til death us do part."  Anything worthwhile, including a satisfying marriage, requires work. So, instead of merely wishing Lindsey and Brian a happy life to

As an early childhood educator, I have gotten to know hundreds of young children and their parents.  And I've learned that, no matter what their circumstances are, most parents have one thing in common:  they want the best for their children. It isn't easy being a parent in twenty-first century America.  Today's young parents often lack older adult role models.  Some have no adult support system.  Many of them work long hours outside the home, entrusting their children to daycare staff or relatives for the care they need.  All are greatly influenced by our rapidly changing, increasingly materialistic society.  Many young parents seem overwhelmed at times.  Even the best parents are sometimes conflicted about their roles as their young children's first teachers.  As I've thought about this dilemma, I've come up with fifteen simple, essential things that parents can do with their young children to help them learn: Read at least one bedtime story every day

I remember the Halloween when Meagan was two; she was just the right size to fit into her life-size Raggedy Ann's clothes.  That same year, Erin was excited to wear an Indian costume that her Dad had made and worn years before.  Of course, we embellished the costume significantly, wrapping her favorite doll, Jackie, to be a papoose, but the old costume gave us a good start.  (We still have that Indian costume in our basement storeroom, but it just wouldn't be politically correct to wear it now.) Meagan was three when she decided that she wanted to be "a band" for Halloween.  I don't know where she came up with that idea, but she was adamant--she just had to be a band!  It was all she could talk about for weeks.  I was used to assembling costumes for the girls, but I wasn't sure how I would come up with a band costume.  Luckily, I didn't have to make one after all. That October, I accompanied Bill on a business trip to I-can't-remember-where.  T

October is Pastor Appreciation Month.  I guess we all need to be reminded to express our appreciation for our pastors, since many of us have a tendency to take them for granted.  That's the way it is for pastors who follow God's calling and do their jobs so faithfully.  Pretty soon, the people they serve come to expect their self-sacrificing hard work to continue forever, forgetting that pastors are people, too, who often struggle with the same things the rest of us do.  Even pastors need encouragement. Through the years, I've known a lot of pastors, and I've come to realize that many of them share a few similar qualities that I really, really appreciate. First of all, the only effective pastors genuinely love God, and speak freely of his great love for them and all people.  They know Jesus personally and are not afraid to say so.  They long for others to know him, too; that's the main reason they became pastors in the first place. They strive to love the peop

It has been a tough month in our community.  A young marine died suddenly and inexplicably in his California barracks, leaving his parents and younger brothers in shock.  A horrific traffic accident claimed the life of one young mom and leaves another clinging to life in a hospital halfway across the state.  A friend's dearly loved family member died, seemingly before it was time.      Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;      The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide...     Even when we are not directly affected by unexpected death, such tragedies make us stop and think about our own mortality.  If you are like me, your mind flashes back to past trauma in your own life, or in the lives of those you love.  We empathize with those who have lost so much, because we understand, all too well, just what agony they may experience.      Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;       Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away... I think back to that life-changi

Ever since I was a young teen, there have been times when I have been aware of God's presence with me.  He promises that he will never leave us or forsake us, but there are some times when he makes sure that we know he is with us.  I am sure that those times are not the same for everyone who trusts in him, but I am equally sure that he will make his presence known to anyone who wants him to be with them.  So, here, in no particular order, are just ten times when I realize that God is with me: When I see a gorgeous sunset over Scotts Bluff National Monument. Whenever the wind blows. When I smell the fresh fragrance of rain. When I sing praise to God by myself or with the radio, and especially with other believers. When I hold a newborn baby.   When I read his Word, the Bible. When I turn to him in prayer. Late at night, when I can't sleep. When I am sick or hurting, or in danger. When I mourn the death of someone I love. God is always wit

This week's blog is for all those parents and grandparents, teachers, pastors, youth leaders--anyone who takes some responsibility for raising our children and teens to become strong in their faith and love for God. It's never been easy, and it seems to be getting harder and harder as the years go by.  There are just so many distractions in our world today, and so many voices clamoring for our kids' attention.  You know what they are:  endless electronic images, games, movies, and social media, and peers who are influenced by them.  Even young children feel pressured to possess the newest electronics, watch the latest movies, wear the current fashions, listen to current popular music.  Relaxed moral values have become so universally accepted that young Christians who strive to be chaste are mocked by their classmates.  The voice of the world seems poised, ready to pounce on every unsuspecting child.  Some Christian parents meet this challenge by insulating their childre

It's been forty years (gasp) since the Fairbury High School Class of 1973 graduated.  I've heard it said that "you can't go back again."  Well, this past weekend, around seventy of my high school classmates, along with quite a few accommodating spouses, tried, quite successfully. Class reunions seem to produce a myriad of emotions: apprehension ( What will they think of me? ) excitement ( We get to re-connect with old friends! ) trepidation ( Will I fit in?  Did I ever?  And, what should I wear? )  curiosity ( What are they doing now? ) I know that some classmates refuse to attend reunions for a variety of reasons.  After all, adolescence can be such a hard time for so many teens; some people just don't want to re-visit a time that may have been very difficult for them.  Those who have moved far away may feel like they no longer have anything in common with the classmates they knew so long ago.  And some may worry that they aren't successful enough or

I'm feeling a little brain-dead, barely motivated to sit down and write this blog.  Since school started almost a month ago, I've hardly had time to breathe.  When can I get off this endless merry-go-round of home visits, preschool classes, assessments, meetings, and appointments?  My morning class is a challenge, overflowing with high needs kids.  Some days, I barely sit down until lunch, when my aides and I just sit and eat, and sometimes hardly talk at all, because we are so exhausted.  My afternoon class is a little smaller, a little older, and a lot less needy, comparatively speaking, but I still need to be on my toes to keep up with them.  So, when I get home from school, I don't feel much like dealing with Levi's latest antics or Victoria's newest drama.  How I wish I could borrow some of my students' excess energy!  Have you noticed that four-year-olds rarely walk anywhere?  Instead, they run, gallop, hop, crawl, bounce, dance, twirl their way across a

Years ago, when my Grandma Vawser visited us in Michigan, I remember that she was so eager to worship with us at the Friends Church in Traverse City.  And, afterwards, she raved about the hymnal that was used there, the All-American Church Hymnal , because it contained so many hymns that she had known and loved her entire life.  It was always very difficult for Bill and me to decide what to get our grandparents for Christmas, so we were thrilled to order a copy of that hymnal for her from our local Christian bookstore, and mail it to her for Christmas.  It probably cost only two or three dollars, and postage was only a dollar or two then, so we certainly didn't spend much.  But we were happy to make her happy. I didn't realize what an impact that gift had made until after Grandma died many years later.  When her belongings were divided among her numerous children and grandchildren, that hymnal made its way back to me.  It was immediately apparent that she had used th

In high schools and colleges all over the country, hundreds of thousands of newly-minted seniors are rejoicing in their long-awaited status.  Finally, they have reached the pinnacle of their education; king of the hill, top of the heap, whatever you call it, they have reached a major goal in their lives.  Seniors, at last! On the other end of the spectrum, those of us who first attained senior status a few decades ago are approaching senior status of another kind.  A few may be rejoicing at the thought of impending retirement from jobs that have become drudgery.  Some look forward to extra time with grandchildren or the chance to travel to previously unknown locales.  But some us are feeling more than a little confused.  When does senior status begin, anyway? When I'm asked by some teenage checker in a restaurant or grocery store if I qualify for the senior discount, I'm forced to ask that question:  "How old must I be to be considered a senior?" I wonder why th

I love chickens!  From those cute, fluffy, yellow baby chicks, to plump Barred Rock and Rhode Island Red hens, to those strutting roosters with their iridescent tail feathers waving in the breeze--I love them all.  It must be hereditary--Dad loves them, too. Maybe I need one of these exotics! A tired Rhode Island Red hen  I enjoyed walking with Levi and Victoria through the small animal barn at the Scotts Bluff County Fair last week.  The rabbits were cute and cuddly, all except the Flemish Giants, which were just big.  I wouldn't mind having another mini-lop or Netherlands dwarf, like Meagan raised for 4H several years ago.  Levi might be ready for a rabbit of his own by next summer--we'll see. But, we were surprised to find that the chickens seemed to be the stars of the small animal entries, since they greatly outnumbered the rabbits at the fair this year.  And they were beautiful, award-winning examples of poultry, from standard barnyard fare to exotics tha