Janet's Blog

A black cat crossed my path today.  I spotted him on the edge of the street, standing at attention as my car approached. He stood up on all fours and slowly began to cross the street right in front of me. I stopped my car to let him pass, and he paused in the middle of the street to look directly at me, his piercing, green eyes gleaming in the morning sunlight. Then, he continued on his way to the other side of the street, in no hurry to reach his destination.    "Black Cat, Black Cat,    What do you see?" "I see a person looking at me." He was a young, fluffy cat, pure black, without even a speck of white fur, obviously clean and well-loved by somebody, even though he wasn't wearing a collar. In spite of the old traditions that insist it is bad luck to have a black cat cross your path, especially so close to Halloween, I don't expect to have any bad luck today. In fact, I was thrilled to see such a perfect, black cat with strikingly green eyes

Sleep--who needs it? Sometimes, I wish I could do without it. Just think, if I didn't have to sleep, I could accomplish so much more in a 24-hour period of time. Without sleep, I would have plenty of time to clean the house, do the laundry, home-school Levi, try out a new recipe, even watch an occasional movie.  I would have time to paint more pictures and write more music. I could schedule extra quality time with the grandkids. Oh, the books I could read, and write!  Limitless energy would be quite a gift, wouldn't it? Yet God, in his wisdom, made us with a need for sleep. As we are reminded, in Psalm 127:2, In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.  "He grants sleep to those he loves." That's a little hard to grasp. It is challenging to think of sleep as a gift, when we are so enmeshed in useful activity. It's go-go-go, from dawn to midnight, as we rush from one diversion to another.

As I was driving home from Cheyenne the other day, it became obvious that we are entering the dreaded brown time of year. I don't like it! To me, a landscape that is devoid of any color, except brown, is just depressing. During the brown time, from the end of October until early March, I have to work harder to be content. I turn on more lights in the house. Levi helps me bake cookies. I curl up on the couch with a good book. I am thrilled when Bill brings me some flowers, but sometimes, just to brighten up the house, I even resort to picking up a colorful bouquet of mixed blooms from Walmart. Of course, there is Christmas, with all of its exhilarating sights, and good smells, and gorgeous decorations. For a few weeks, the brown time seems much brighter, as we get ready to celebrate Jesus' birth; Jesus always makes our lives better, if we let him. When Bill and I lived in Michigan, I learned to appreciate winter. There, we embraced the endless snowy days, going sleddin

From the time my mother sang "Jesus Loves Me" and "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" at bedtime, when I was just a toddler, I've been singing along--quietly, because I didn't want my singing to be noticed. My kindergarten teacher, Miss Steele, lined us up in three rows for music, with the best singers in the front, the so-so singers in the middle row, and the monotones and shouters, and the nearly silent singers, in the back row. I was in the back, of course, because I didn't want anyone to hear me sing. But one day, Miss Steele asked me to come and stand beside her in front of the class, where she put her arm around me and encouraged me to sing some little ditty along with her. I must have been able to carry a tune to her satisfaction because, after that, I got to stand in the front row for music. I was so proud that I ran all the way home after school to tell Mom I got moved to the front row! As a child, I always sang my heart out for our church Chris

Certain people in my family have definite OCD tendencies. None of them have specific OCD diagnoses, but I suspect we could find a doctor somewhere who would support my unscientific determination. I assume you know what those initials stand for: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is defined by the International OCD Foundation as "a mental disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), and behaviors that drive them to do something over and over (compulsions). Often, the person carries out the behaviors to get rid of the obsessive thoughts. " When one family member persistently rearranges the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I accuse him of OCD. Another family member exasperates me when he repeatedly closes appliance doors that shouldn't be shut tightly, like the dishwasher and washing machine that may develop mold and mildew problems when their doors remain closed at all times. It's funny, though, that he leav