On Saturday I woke up to the worst weather in Oklahoma--and that includes tornados.  The trees were so loaded with ice that if they hadn't already split from the weight of the ice on the branches, the limbs that had been twenty feet in the air the day before were bent to the ground in semi-defeat.

The ground was still wet, but everything over one foot off the ground was frozen.  What a mess.  I got in the car to drive to Becky's and it was like driving in a mine field.  Tree limbs lying across the roads, with electric and phone lines either broken or hanging in huge draping arcs covered with ice cycles drooping under the weight.  The weatherman said that Edmond got the brunt of it.

It is the single worst type of weather that we get in Oklahoma--as far as I am concerned.  It affects everyone for days and days.  My house in Pryor was all electric (gas wasn't available in our area) and in one ice storm that we had,  Ken and I were without power for seven days.  You really don't know how much you depend on electricity until you don't have it.

After that, I had a propane fireplace built into the family room and bought my own propane tank.   I really don't like to suffer.  I am a city girl.  I want the grocery store to stay in business.  I don't want to milk a cow or gather eggs or feed livestock in any kind of weather.  When I need eggs, I call Pat.  She has chickens and brings the eggs to my door.  She is definitely not a city girl.  At all.

I am sure God has a reason for ice storms--if only to make us thankful for good weather.  And make us long for Spring.

"For...the rain comes down and the snow (and ice) from heaven, and returns not thither, but waters the earth and makes it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater."  Isaiah 55:10  I guess I will accept that reason.  But I do prefer rain or snow.

I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  I hope you can spend it with your loved ones.  God has given us so much to be thankful for.  I always start with thankfulness for my eyesight.  My mind.  My family.  My home.  My church....and on and on.

Sometimes it's good to just list all the good things.  We have a tendency to think about what is wrong rather than what is right.  Talk to God about the good things He has given you.  I am sure he gets tired of us only telling him what is wrong.

People are going to start arriving today.  I am thankful that I have four bedrooms.  When I started looking for a house here in Edmond, I asked for two or three bedrooms.  I wanted to downsize.  That didn't happen because there wasn't anything available within a mile of where I wanted to live.  So up till now, I've been thinking the house is too big.  It isn't.

I've been cooking all day.  I think I am ready for the influx.

Don't forget to thank the cook.

I will return on Monday.  I am going to take the next four days for family.

God bless you.  And yours.

In my family, everyone has strong opinions.  (Imagine that.)  With Thanksgiving coming up, strong opinions would be okay if everyone had the same opinions.  But they don't.  And of course, everyone wants to get their opinion out there.

We have 35 people coming to Becky's on Thursday.  We have people who think we shouldn't take the Syrian refugees in--that we should help see that they are settled in Lebanon, Iran, Kuwait, or some other Asian country.  And we have people in our family that not only think we should admit them immediately, but take them into our own homes.  We have falling off the left-wing liberals, and right wing anti-government interventionists.  I bet you have some of both of those in your family, too.

That is what you get when you raise your children to think for themselves and obey the dictates of the Bible.  You get the "Love your neighbor as yourself," group.  And the "Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord," group.  You gotta love them both.  God does.

I got so tickled at Becky today.  She said, "Well, Mom, some of our family can't stay but a couple of hours because they have other obligations.  They'll have just enough time to eat, get into a political fight, get mad and go home."  I said, "Sounds like a plan."

One good thing, they all have been raised to love God and love his people.  So they will go home still loving each other.  I hope, I really hope that they will keep their opinions to themselves and simply catch each other up on what has been going on in their lives.  They are coming from Chicago, Orlando, Dallas, and who knows where else.  We don't get together on any other holiday.

"I have an idea," Becky said.  "I'll just tell everyone that wants to argue about politics--and get mad--to go eat in the kitchen, and the rest of us will eat in the dining room.  What do you think about that idea?"  By then, Becky was laughing along with me.

We have a wonderful, loving, funny, opinionated family.  Thank God for every one of them.

What does it mean to be a Christian?  I went to the doctor yesterday, and while I was there, we started talking and I asked him if he was a Christian.  He said, "We all believe in the same God.  Hindu, Muslim, Jew and Christian.  It will turn out ok because we all have one God."

I said, "Well, I believe that Jesus was God.  That he is God.  That makes a difference."

The problem with religion is that people get "religious."  They quit thinking.  They quit listening.  They don't read the account of God speaking to us--the Bible.

The problem with people  is that they are sinful.  They have an inner thermostat that measures whether something is right or wrong.  They know when they do wrong.  And do it anyway.  And somehow, they know that they need forgiveness.  But where is a person to go??

Living with the wrong things you have done is hard because you can't undo them.  Ken always said that the mind is like a picture gallery where you hang the events of your life.  And when you least expect it, a picture pops up  that you desperately want to forget.  But it hangs there, and haunts you.  You can't get rid of it.

But then Ken would add that when the master painter comes into your gallery, he is able to paint over those pictures and paint new ones.  He is the only one who can do away with our sins.  That is what Jesus (God) died for.  No other religion offers forgiveness of sin, and redemption.  The death of Christ gives us a path to God.  His resurrection offers us hope.

Clean.  We can be clean.  "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God."  Romans 3:23
"In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins. 1 Thessalonians 5:18

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness 1 John 1:9

Ken passed away two years ago today.  I guess I will mark that anniversary for the rest of my life.  When he asked me to marry him, he said, "I am eight and a half years older than you.  It won't matter much now, but someday it will."  He was right.

He had an amazing life.  I am glad I got to share it.

I drove to Pat's house for supper.  She lives in the country on a farm.  Back roads.  Two lanes, no side shoulders.  It was alright going there, but coming back in the pitch black, no moon, dark of night was a challenge.  I'm not sure that I will try that again.  On the other hand, if I quit doing things, well, I will end up not doing things.  And I don't want that.

I am amazed at how much paper I have collected over the years.  I just threw it all in boxes when I moved, and now, I am going through it all.  What a mess.  I try to do a little bit every day, but it seems endless.  Things that seemed important enough to keep are now just junk.  One thing I never  did was put anything in the attic.  Or a storage shed.   I am thankful for that.  It just ends up as mouse food.  Or it molds.  If I don't need it now, then my philosophy is that I need to give it to someone who can use it.

Except for paper.  I found a ledger from l957 that I had kept--with every penny I spent.  The numbers were funny.  You get a real sense of inflation when you find records that are fifty-eight years old.

God has taken care of me for a long, long time.  It's easy to see his hand in my life when I look backwards.  At every point, in every tragedy, sickness and crisis,  He was there.  I spend a lot of time living in the past.  Things are much clearer to me looking back.  And our stories are the fabric of who we are.

Autumn is over as far as I am concerned.  Once the leaves fall, once you get up and there is frost on the ground, once the temperature drops below forty, and once I reset the thermostat to heat instead of cool--winter is here regardless of what the calendar says.

I used to like cold weather.  But now, it takes me so long to don coat and gloves and scarves, etc. that I dread it.  I am already thinking of spring.

Pat has a friend who said that he would build me a raised bed for my vegetable garden.  I missed out on everything this year for the most part because I was moving.  I find myself already thinking about March and planting tomatoes and parsley, green peppers, kale, lettuce, spinach and okra.  I will plant asparagus even though it will take three years before it can be harvested.  That is called faith.  And at my age, hope.

"The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle (dove) is heard in our land;"  Song of Solomon 2:12

"O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?"  (by Percy Shelley) says it all.  And especially in Oklahoma where the winter winds are so bitter.

The man that takes care of my yard planted something that came up green after the bermuda turned brown.  So at least the yard doesn't look dead.  And God, in his mercy, designed some plants and shrubs that stay green throughout the winter.

I do not want to wish my life away, but I can hardly wait for spring.  I lived in Southern California three different times.  But all that sunshine got boring.  So I guess I will be thankful for winter.

"In (not "for") everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."
1 Thessalonians 5:18  I guess that includes winter.

I have just finished reading the book of Acts again.  It is the only designated history book in the New Testament.  It is somewhat like reading a diary.  Luke wrote it and gave a observational account of the events following the resurrection--both in Jerusalem and during the ensuing trips with Paul.  I am amazed at the number of cities and towns that Paul visited.  Considering how difficult travel was, you have to be in awe of the drive and passion he had to spread the gospel to the Gentiles.  I am also very, very thankful that Luke wrote it all down.

We owe Paul a great debt.  Without his determination, we who are not Jewish might not have received the gospel.  And he died because of that determination.     When I was in Rome, I visited the place where he was incarcerated.  It was a cistern, a hole in the ground carved in stone to hold water, but used as a prison for Paul.  Cold, dark, and lonely.

You can almost hear how chilled he was when he asked Timothy to come to Rome and to bring "... the cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus when you come.  Bring it with you, and the books but especially the parchments." 2 Timothy 4:13

Paul was a great student of Scripture.  He wanted his books and parchments.  And a cloak to wrap himself in to keep from freezing.  And then he wrote letters--for which we must be eternally grateful. He was the most prolific of the New Testament writers, under the most difficult of circumstances. His letters have endured and we take comfort in the messages he wrote us concerning Christ.

Some people make tremendous sacrifices for the good of others.  It is a God-like trait.

As the weather turns cold, remember those who have no cloak.  At this time of year, legitimate charities make appeals for assistance.  It might be a good time to pick one to support.  Better still, volunteer your time in your own community.

The political cartoon in today's paper was a picture of the Statue of Liberty--a gift to us from France-- shedding tears.  The French are our oldest allies.  The world--the free world--cannot help but weep with them in this tragedy.

The emperor has no clothes.  We have become so politically correct that we are afraid of speaking the truth.  Who blew up Paris?  Who is killing and beheading people in the middle East?  Who are the refugees fleeing from and trying to get away from?  Who is raping women, and degrading them in every possible way?   Who is lining Christians up and shooting them?  Who is holding hostages for political reasons and cutting off their heads?

I'm sorry, but I don't seem to be able to rectify the message that the Muslims are giving me that they are "really" a peaceful people.  The only peaceful Muslims I have ever heard of are those living in countries where other political systems prevail.  Where they are legally protected from their own fanatical religious philosophies--by democratic governments.  In countries where they have control, there is only misery and death.  Murder and mayhem.  Abuse of women--who have no rights.

I hope that we can unite the world to destroy these terrorists.  Their ideology is sick.

Christianity gives the world a message of peace.  Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.  Let not your near be troubled, neither let it be afraid."  John 14:27

To the people of Paris, the people of France, may this message from the Apostle Paul comfort you:  "Now the Lord of peace himself (Jesus) give you peace always by all means.  The Lord be with you all."   2 Thessalonians 3:16

I join Paul in saying:  Peace by all means.  The Lord be with you.

I've been deleting Facebook friends because of the sheer number of them.  They are still friends, but they send me so much junk that it wearies me.  I don't need mottos.  I don't need those "Send this to your friends if you love Jesus" messages.  And I really don't need a million pictures.  One will do.

However, I do like to get a notice if something unusual happens.  I got a picture of a parade yesterday from Pryor, in which Marines were marching with flags and a banner that read "Marine Corps League,  Stanley-Jacks Detachment."  Two of Pryor's native sons.  Monroe Stanley fought in Iwo, and three other horrible Pacific Island landings in WW2 and by some miracle he survived.  He was wounded, but even though he was on disability, he talked the USMC to reenlist him when Korea broke out--knowing that he would lose the disability payment.

And Ken.  Well.  Two wars.  Korea and Vietnam.  Hundreds and hundreds of missions.  Two Distinguished Flying Crosses and the Bronze Star.  Air medals, etc.  Hit many, many times but somehow got back.  (A couple of planes that he returned to home base were trashed because they were so badly ground-fire damaged.)  Also, the North Koreans  would hang wires from mountain top to mountain top and the pilots were so heavy with 500 pounders that they couldn't get high enough to miss them.  And of course, you couldn't see the wires.  Most who hit a wire were finished.  Ken hit one, bent the fuselage but got home.

I said yesterday, "Where do we get such men?"  I don't know.  But they keep coming.  And we keep sending them into harm's way.  God bless them.  And women as well.  My granddaughter Amy just got back from a tour in Afghanistan--four years, and now out.  Thank God she came home.

Wars and rumors of wars.  Will it never end?  I have six grandsons.  I certainly don't want any of them to get shot at.  However, I am proud of both my sons for serving.  Scott in the Marine Corps and Jon in the Navy.  We must pray for our leaders.  Leaders of all nations--that they will make better decisions.  "And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many."  Matthew 24:11  Lord, please give us the wisdom to recognize them.

I am writing this on Nov. 11.  Veteran's Day.  Thinking of all of the Marines that I have known and the sacrifices they made.  I am also thinking of the families of those Marines and how difficult it was (and is) for them to hold everything together at home when their Marine was deployed.

I am ashamed to say that, at the time, I never gave much thought at all as to how those deployments affected my children.  I was too busy holding down the fort.  When you grow up as a child of a Marine who is actively engaged in a career in the Corps, you don't know any other way to live.  You think your life is normal.

It isn't normal.  Just when you make a friend, you move.  Or they move.  We were always moving.  Two children were born in California.  Two in Virginia.  One in Oklahoma.  With many moves  in between.  There were deployments to Spain, Greece, Cuba, the Philippines, Japan, Korea, Viet Nam.  And always, we were left behind.  If the Marine Corps had wanted you to have a family, they would have issued you one.

So I grieve for the families of those who are deployed.  I honor those who serve.  It is a double edged sword of separation that bleeds in both direction.

When I went to Normandy and stood on the cliff overlooking the beach--the cliff on which the German pillboxes were set up--I could close my eyes and see the young boys drowning in the surf--weighted down with gear.  I could imagine them crossing the beach, trying to reach and climb the cliffs all the while being strafed by machine guns.

Where do such men come from?   God protect them.

I forgot to post this this morning.  Sorry.

When we went on our adventure last week, Pat--who is my horse-woman--took me to see the Clydesdale horses twenty miles west of here.  They won the World Championship this year in Ottawa.

When I stood up by one, his head rose at the least, another three feet above mine.  They are huge.  Probably nine to ten feet tall.  The only animal I have ever seen that is bigger is an elephant.  They are also very tolerant and placid.  Their feet are as wide as a person's head.  "Behold, we put bits in the horses' mouths, that they may obey us; and we turn about their whole body."  James 3:3  Even a horse that big can learn to obey.  James is saying that we, too, must come under control.

God has made wonderful creatures for us to enjoy.  "And God said, let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that has life, and birds that may fly above the earth in the open sky of heaven."  Genesis 1:20vrv

My dog Squig is probably my best friend right now because he is with me every moment of every day.  He is very loving and sweet.  He spends most of his day curled up in my lap, and every night under the covers on my feet.  Wherever I go, he is trotting along behind me.  I am thankful for him.

Science would have us believe that life sprang up all by itself from molecules that aren't alive.  How that happened, they don't have a clue.

But we know that He is the life.  In him is life.

I am truly amazed at how many people around the world are reading what I write every day.  My daughter Becky has some wonderful friends in Paris who read it.  Christophe, and his wife Carine.  He manages a hotel that Becky always uses when she takes groups to Paris.  I've stayed at that hotel a few times when I have gone with her.  I dearly love the little street that it is on.  And the people are wonderful. I understand why Cole Porter wrote "I Love Paris...".

My grandson called me today and said, "Grandmother, I will never forget something that you once told me.  You told me that there are three questions that a person needs to ask someone who is searching for meaning in life." So I asked him what they were. (I had forgotten the conversation.)

"First, ask, do you believe that there is 'something' out there.  Second, ask if that 'something' would try to communicate with you.  And third, ask how do you think that 'something' would do that?"

Of course, when he told me the questions, I remembered.  I still use those three questions to open dialog with people who are searching for God.  The current buzz word is "spirituality."  People like to say that they are spiritual.  Whatever that means.  Believing that there is a supreme God, however, means that you are accountable to Him.  You have to answer to him, not to your current guru.

"The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows his handiwork.  Day unto day they utter speech, and night unto night show knowledge.  There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.  Their message is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world..."   Psalms 19:1-4

There is something out there.  It's God.  And He has communicated with us.  "God...spoke in times past...by the prophets..has in these last days spoken to us by his Son..."  Hebrews 1:1-2

On December 24, of 1924, there was a horrible fire at the Babbs-Switch one room schoolhouse near Hobart, Oklahoma.  Many children were killed when a Christmas tree caught on fire.  There were bars on the windows--secured from the outside--and only one door.  Which opened in, not out.  Escape was practically impossible.  The tragedy prompted a new law that required two doors in all of the schoolhouses, and required that all doors had to open out, not in, so that if people piled up at a door, it wouldn't trap them.  Now, all public buildings have doors that open out.

I knew about this first hand, because Ken's mother was hired the next year (1925) as the replacement teacher for the new school.  When she talked about it, you could hear the sadness in her voice.  She knew those people.  As I recall, Ken's dad was the preacher at Hobart's Baptist church at that time, so all of the families at Babbs-Switch and Hobart were close.

Friday, Tom and Pat took me to El Reno to the museum (which was truly wonderful).  One of the exhibits was a one room school house that had been moved to the grounds of the museum.  It was very typical of all of the one room schoolhouses of the day.  The sign over the door said "1906-1936, Possum Holler'." As expected, the doors opened in.  There were signs at the front of the room that listed rules for the teacher, and students.  Infractions by the students were given, along with the number of licks for breaking that rule.  One of them was:  Dirty fingernails, 2 licks.

The desks were just like the ones that were in my first grade class-room.  Inkwells and all.  And a chart of the alphabet in Palmer penmanship (developed in 1888) on the wall.  I hear that the schools are discarding penmanship.  That is really sad.  My great-grandchildren won't be able to read Ken's letters he wrote me from Viet-Nam.  That will be a loss.

We can't go back.  However,  back then, children learned to read, to write, to do arithmetic, to get along with others and to follow the rules.  The older children helped the younger.  And there was a Bible in every classroom.  All moral questions had an answer in God's Word.  Without it, we have no compass to guide us.

When Ken went overseas to Japan, or somewhere East one time, he was gone for thirteen months.  We couldn't afford to phone.  It was before social media, so letters were our only form of communication.  "What do you want me to bring back for you?" he asked.  "I have no idea," I answered.  "But there is one thing I know I don't want and that is anything fur.  I don't really like fur."

When he returned, he had bought a huge duffel bag and filled it full of presents.  "I've got birthday's, Christmas, Mother's day and everything in between covered for at least five more years, " he said.

I just grinned at him because I knew he wouldn't last a week.  He would want to give it all to me right then.  He didn't last the day.  There were silk dresses, beaded sweaters, pearls, and dozens and dozens of other things.  And a mink stole.  "You bought me fur...because...?

"All the other guys bought their wives mink.  I didn't want you to feel left out."

Flash forward.  (I've already told you this story, but it is a good one about gifts, so I will tell it again.) Ken had gone to Spain for three months.  I was irritated with him for some reason when he left--I have no idea why.  I wrote him a letter, and told him that I was going to cut the mink up and make potty seat covers out of it.  (Surprise.  I have faults.)  I expected to win whatever argument we were having--you would think I would remember, but I don't.  But no.  He took my letter and posted it on the bulletin board in his office.  (He was the commanding officer)

So every time anyone got sent in with "women" problems, he would point them to my letter and say, "Son, we all have problems with women.  You will just have to stick it out until we go home."

When they got back, I couldn't figure out why the troops were pointing at me when they got off the ship.  "That's her."  You could read their lips.

I still have the mink.  I didn't cut it up.  I wore it once to the Marine Corps Ball and then gave it to Pat.  She wore it to the opera in Tulsa a bunch of times and gave it back to me last year.  I have it hanging in my closet where I can see it every time I open the door.  I don't wear it, but I like to touch it.  It reminds me of how lucky I am.

I never particularly liked the kind of presents that men usually give to women.  Roses, candy, fur, jewelry, etc.  I didn't need that kind of "Wooing."  All my girlfriends thought that I was nuts, but for me,  I would much rather have the gift of "picking what I want."  I always loved it when Ken went shopping with me and I picked out what I wanted.  My tastes are eclectic.

I took that "Love Language" test and realized that I had a love language that didn't need gifts.  My love language is "Help Me."  I want someone to give me a hand with my projects.  When I was making raised beds for my vegetable garden, I went to the lumber yard, got the boards cut to size and the screws and corner braces.  And when I brought all that home, I could do it all except that I needed help holding the boards while I braced and screwed them together.  That kind of help with my projects beats candy and flowers for me any day of the week.  "Here, let me help you with that," are sweet words to me.  Having Craig and Becky help me hang drapes gets a star rating.  And Pat helping me unpack boxes.  And my sister Lisa helping me hang pictures.

Ken's greatest quality was generosity.  With everyone.  Not just me.  I could have had the roses, candy, etc.  It just wasn't my thing.   It was a good thing that I have the gift of frugality or things could have gone South.  Because whatever I wanted, he wanted me to have.

God is a generous giver like that.  When I went to bed last night and was saying my prayers, I went through the ACTS thing, (Adoration, Confession, Thanks) and when I got to Supplication, I couldn't think of anything to supplicate.  I'm not rich.  I'm not poor.  He has given me all I want or need.  The only thing I could think of, was to ask for the health of other people, and solutions for their problems.

"If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children (husband, wife, friends), how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?"  Matthew 7:11

I have been here for months with no drapes hung.  I can't put them up by myself, and haven't wanted to bother Craig (Becky's husband) since he is in the middle of a rehab on a house he bought.  But day before yesterday, I fed him filet mignon for dinner and he looked the windows over and made a plan.  (He would have done it without the filet.  It was his birthday and I cooked.)

Beggars can't be choosers!!  I am just thankful he is going to do them.  There is some sewing I have to do before they go up, and I am going to start that this week.  With drapes, this will finally be home.  My house in Pryor is under contract.  I signed the papers, and now we just have to pass inspection--which will not be a problem I don't think.

I called the realtor and told her that there was something that needed to be fixed that the inspector would not find--and that I would pay to fix it.  The back flow preventer (which is outside connected to the sprinkling system) is missing a part that wouldn't turn up as a problem until next spring.

The realtor seemed shocked that I told her about it.  I guess people don't point out problems if they can get out of it.  But I really want to believe that if I "...do unto others as I would that they should do unto me," that I can always do what is right.  I sure wouldn't want to go to heaven face the judgement over $300.

"Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord: but they that deal truly are his delight." Proverbs 12:22

"Pray for us: for we trust we have a good conscience, in all things willing to live honestly."  Hebrews 13:18

"And as you would that men should do to you do you also to them likewise."  Luke 6:31

I want to live like that.

Last week when I went to Red Rock Canyon, I got to see something that I had only seen on Television.  Huge, huge, huge windmills.  Hundreds and hundreds of them stretched over fifty miles.  They probably went even further west than the distance that we drove.  It is so flat out west of Oklahoma City that "the wind comes sweeping down the plain."  There isn't anything to stop it.  So it is a perfect place for windmills.  (And dust storms.)

They are almost entirely silent.  But the power they generate is tremendous.  And clean.  It isn't like coal fired generating plants which spew out bad stuff.  (I lived next to one of those in Pryor.)

When I was a little girl, there were water wheels that generated power on farms lucky enough to have a stream running through their property.  I have wondered why the scientific world can't seem to come up with a cheap way to harness the power of the ocean tides and waves.  I know they are working on it, but so far it has proved to be too expensive to generate.

But the greatest power we have is at our fingertips.  As children of God, we can tap into His power.  He is the ultimate power over all the earth.

"For though he was crucified through weakness, yet he lives by the power of God.  For we also are weak in him, but we shall live with him by the power of God toward you."  2 Corinthians 13:4

"And they were astonished at his (Jesus') doctrine: for his word was with power." Luke 4:32

"Who (Jesus) being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high."  Hebrews 1:3

God alone has the power to save us.  He alone has the power to grant our requests.  He alone has the power to forgive us our sins.  We have a powerful friend in God.  We are weak.  He is strong.

Years ago, there was a list of seven words that you couldn't say on Television.  Now there aren't any.  Most of them had sexual connotations.  But equally offensive to Christians was the blasphemy of God, Jesus, Christ, and Holy things.  Have your ever heard anyone say "Buddha damn" or "Allah damn?"  Of course not.  You never hear anyone swear in any name but our God and our Christ.  That is because there is no power in "...any name under heaven, given among men whereby we must be saved."  You can't blaspheme Allah, Buddah, or any other so-called god because they have no power.  There is only one God.  His name is Jehovah.  He is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

We have become a people with no culture.  "Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks."  I think our nation must be a nation with sewage in their hearts because that is what is coming out of their mouths.  I cringe when I hear those seven words on my television.  I hurt when I hear God's name taken vainly--lightly.

There is nowhere to go with bad words.  They've hit bottom.  The only thing someone can do now when they want to swear is to say the worst word they can think of over and over.  Bad words have lost all meaning.  I especially am sickened by the way women speak.   I think the concept of "She is a lady," has been lost.

It is a tragic condemnation on us that we have become so filthy mouthed.  There should never be that kind of language in the life of a Christian.   We need to be above such language.  We need to be an example to the world.

When I was growing up I never heard bad words.  People had class.  Now they don't.  It's a pity.  Even children use God's name lightly.  They repeat what they hear.  It is sad.

But let "...all uncleanness...not be once named among you, as becomes saints; Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, not jesting...but rather giving of thanks."  Ephesians 6:3-4  That pretty much covers it.