The ocean-bed scan of the Gulf of Mexico, revealed a crater with high walls.  Walls that had been thrown up by the asteroid impact—walls containing animal remains that lived back at that time.  But the most interesting part for me was the report of a sulfur compound that occurred as a result of the impact, creating a fire that burned all through the skies for a lengthy amount of time, and covered the atmosphere of the entire earth--obliterating the sun.   Killing life on earth.  All at once.  The asteroid hit, plant life and the dinosaurs died at the same time.  The earth was darkened.

Subsequent discoveries have authenticated that event. The entire earth was shaken, the burning sulfuric atmosphere blotted out the sun, and sixty six million years ago almost everything that was on land died.

“And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep…” Finally, we know scientifically how it got that way. The Biblical account is validated.  

Eventually, the fire and residue in the atmosphere burned out, the debris settled, and the sun shone through again--that sun that was already there in the heavens. God didn’t have to “recreate” it.  The sun had been created in the first verse in Genesis. “…God created the heavens…” That light, the sun, had allowed plant life to grow in the dinosauric ages. And that same sun allowed the food chain to flourish--from those animals that ate plants all the way up to the largest animals who were carnivores. 

“And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”  You can’t move on the face of something that isn’t there.

Furthermore, the word void suggests that the earth had at one time contained something.  Something that is no longer here—thus, we have a void.  The entire second verse in the Bible is about disruption.  How could the earth of an all-powerful God who created it become a place that was empty, formless, dark and void?  A dichotomy.  What happened between verse one, and verse two?

That’s the part God doesn’t tell us about in the Biblical account.  That’s where strata comes in. 

I recently watched a documentary on television that used a process of underwater scanning to discover events that had taken place in the past.  The program was called “Draining the Oceans.”

One of the episodes concerned the discovery of an impact crater under the water. A crater left by an asteroid which hit the earth sixty-six million years ago--at exactly the same time all of the dinosaurs vanished.  I’m not going to go into how they date such events—this book isn’t about Organic Chemistry. Suffice to say that with carbon dating—the half-life of carbon decay—it can be done with an acceptable degree of accuracy.  Also, strata, and ice core examinations support the time line. 

2. The second source of information concerning that sudden disappearance of what was living on earth is the Biblical source, and it is more subtle.  In the very first verse of the Bible, it says, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”  But in the second verse of Genesis, God describes that this perfect earth he had created had been destroyed.  He says it this way, “And the earth was void, without form, and darkness was on the face of the deep.”   He is not describing something he "created." 

Obviously, something must have happened between verse one and verse two. Creative works are perfect.  God created the heavens and the earth.  All of it.  He didn’t create an void, dark, formless mass as is described in Genesis 1:2.  

When those long-ago animals existed, there had to be a food chain.  Starting with plants.  Plants have to have sunlight.  The sun was there at that time .  Also, there was water.  The Bible implies that there was water on earth before the destruction between verse one and two, because verse two says that there was darkness on the face of the “deep.”  

Water, “the deep,” already existed on the earth when verse two was written.  God had created “the deep” in verse one along with everything else because in verse two it says, “And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”  You can’t move on the face of something that isn’t there.

And then, suddenly, the dinosaurs all disappeared.  Abruptly.  All at once. Not over time; no, they disappeared in an instant.  How could that happen?  What occurred to wipe out almost all life on the surface of the earth, but allow almost all creatures that were in the waters to survive?

Dinosaurs gone.  Land life extinguished.  In an instant.  We are able to glean knowledge about that disappearance from two, and only two sources.

1.  The first source is strata deposits--in which there are fossils of  creatures that were once alive laid down in layer upon layer of sediment.  And in those layers, there are thousands and thousands of deposits of multitudes of different kinds of animals that no longer exist. You can’t deny strata; strange animals once existed.  And they disappeared all at once.  Instantly. 

Additionally, in ice cores, scientists can date, and trace through the layers in the ice cores from present day, back through millennia.  They can identify catastrophes, volcanic deposits of ash that traveled through the atmosphere, tsunamis, temperature changes and other phenomenon which occurred on earth through millions and millions of years.  Layer by layer, preserved deep in the ice.  Ice core Strata.

2. The second--and only other--source of information concerning that sudden disappearance of what was living on earth is the Biblical source...

I pray that all of you will have a blessed day.  I know that for some of you, there will be sadness for those who have gone on, but have joy in the moment knowing they are  with the one who's birth we celebrate today.

Merry Christmas.

When the first words of the Bible were written, this word create (bara in the Hebrew) was used to describe something unique.  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”  We are given nothing more than that.

 God didn’t share what, or who, he put on that earth way back then.  Or how He did it. The Bible simply says that He created two things.  The heavens.  And the earth.  Out of nothing.  And both the heavens and the earth were created complete and perfect in every way.  Nothing was missing.  

I personally wish God would have told us more about that world, but He didn’t.  Scientifically, we know that millions of years ago, in that long-ago past world that He created, there were animals that are totally different than those we know today.  Their bones, as fossils, are preserved in the strata deposits of the earth. Animals died, were covered up with dirt, and preserved.  Layered from top to the bottom of the strata.  Sixty-six million years ago.

There they are.  Those animals existed.  They are preserved for us.  Real animals.   You can touch them, pick up their bones and know that at one time there were many different kinds of creatures on earth that no longer exist, and they were rampantly abundant.  And then, suddenly, they all disappeared.  Abruptly.  All at once. Not over time; no, they disappeared in an instant.  How could that happen?  What occurred to wipe out almost all life on the earth, except for life that existed in the waters--oceans and seas?

I started with a couple of classes in Chemistry, and Comparative anatomy—I cut, dissected, pinned and identified arteries, veins, muscles, breathing systems and organs.  My poor family, husband and four children, endured me repeating every lecture to them each evening at the supper table.  They weren’t nearly as excited about what I had learned as I was.

Organic Chemistry, Entomology—where I spent a semester identifying all the different structures of bugs.  Incidentally, if you sprinkle Borax powder along the baseboards of your kitchen, you don’t need toxic bug spray.  Roaches and other critters you bring in from the grocery store—sometimes in sacks of potatoes--will lick their feet when they step on the Borax powder and die.  Borax is a simple cleaning agent.  Sweep it up, or mop the floor with it.

I finally ended up with some basic knowledge about Zoology, which didn't mean I knew nearly enough--I had only scraped the surface.  I read every book I could get my hands on.  I attended every lecture within driving distance on the subject of evolution, kept taking classes, taught mathematics on a college campus for twenty years,  and did a bit of advanced statistics.  Statistics don’t lie.  It was helpful to know what was actually statistically possible in our universe, and what wasn’t.  The more I learned, the more convinced I was of the truth of the book of Genesis.  And I set out to put that book in context with true scientific knowledge--beginning with three words.  Create.  Make, and Let.  (Continued.)

I can’t fathom a universe filled with everything that exists in the thing we call space—stars, moon, sun, galaxies, black holes--as being an accident.  What is space anyway?   There must be a higher power.  To believe otherwise means that something had to come from nothing. Which is contrary to intelligent thoughts about science, not to mention the laws of Physics. 

I believe there is a Creator.  It affects everything I think and do.  It is the reason I wanted to know exactly what the Bible said, and what the words meant. It is why I wanted to know that all of the Bible is true, and why the Genesis account is not a contradiction of science. I wanted to know the truth.  And it starts with the basic belief that something can’t come from nothing.

I’m going to tell you how I arrived at my conclusions concerning the Genesis story of creation.  If you don’t agree, then you have to start your own scientific journey.  But I believe there is one thing is absolutely, unquestionably true: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”  And it’s true, whether you believe it, or not.  And out of nothing, “space” came into being.  And into this nothingness we call space, God placed the heavens and the earth.  And us.  There had to be a "beginning."  (Continued...)

 I had read it (Genesis) without asking any questions.  Obviously, I needed to learn how to read! 
It was at that point that I read Genesis again.  With attention to words.  What did the words actually say?  And what did the words actually mean?

If you can’t trust Genesis, what else in the Bible might not be true?  How do you decide what is true and what isn’t?  Faith must be based on truth or it is dangerous.   And Biblical truth has to be true from cover to cover.   Genesis to Revelation.  Otherwise it is blind faith.  

You can have blind faith in anything you want to--and end up going down a dead-end road to nowhere, or off a cliff.  You can end up somewhere you never intended to be. You can have sincere faith that you can fly like birds do, then go jump off a building and end up dead.  

I was about to begin a journey that I’ve been on for over fifty years. It has been a search for truth. And how do we find it.  What is truth?

The first question a person has to clear up in their own mind is this: Is there a higher source; is there a God?  It affects everything else.  If you don’t believe that there is “something,” or “someone” out there in control of the universe, then you can’t really have a discussion about where we came from. Believing, or not believing in a higher power, determines the mental pathway of a person’s life. Rather than God, some people choose to believe in Aliens. 

From yesterday, a teen asked how a person knew what was true in the Bible:  "Questioning God’s Word was considered blasphemy.  Nobody did that."   

I didn’t have an answer for her.  I was twenty-seven years old, had not been to college, and my entire knowledge of science was from high-school biology.  I had never heard of Darwin.  Much less his Theory.  I had been too busy raising children to pay much attention to the news in the field of science.

My assurances to the class that the Bible was true didn’t bear any weight with them at all.  “How do you know that it’s true,” one of them asked me?  “How do you explain the dinosaurs that lived over sixty-six million years ago?”

I learned something new that day.  Simply telling young people to have faith that the Genesis story was true wasn’t going to cut it any more.  I needed facts.  I needed to know what was going on out there in the world of science, and I needed to have the ability to defend what the Bible said.  With truth, not with words.

And then, I discovered something else.  I didn’t have any idea what the first chapter of Genesis actually said.  I had read it a number of times.  But I had read it without discernment; I had read it without asking any questions.  Obviously, I needed to learn how to read!  (Continued tomorrow.)

Everybody keeps asking me to write a book about Genesis, so I am in the process of doing that.  I'm going to share chapter one with you.  It may take a couple of days to blog the first chapter, because I have stayed with my commitment to write only six inches.   

GENESIS AND STRATA 

I was living in a world where I never asked questions.  The Bible was true and it had always been true.  What was there to question?  And then, in the late sixties, I was teaching a class of seventeen-year-old high school girls, when one of them asked me a question.  “How do you decide which parts of the Bible to believe.”

“What do you mean!”  I was confused, and shocked by her question.

“Like the creation story, she said.  "It’s a fable. Right?”

To say I was shocked is an understatement.  I had never heard anyone question the facts in the Bible.  “Why would you say such a thing? I asked her.

“Well, we know the real truth.  Darwin has explained how life began.  You know, Darwin’s Theory of Evolution.”  Her statement was made as a given conclusion.

No. I didn’t know.  I had gone to school in an era when the Bible was in the classroom and no one questioned its validity.  Questioning God’s Word was considered blasphemy.  Nobody did that.  (Continued tomorrow.)

I have moles in my front yard.  They have invaded.  I thought my lawn care company would treat the yard for grubs--which is what attracts the moles--but it looks like they didn't do that.

Since Squig is a terrier, you would think he would get out there and dig them up, but no!  He isn't in the least bit interested in them.  He gets fed every day without having to work for it.  I guess I am the problem??

I was going to go buy a mattress today, but when I left the pot luck dinner at the church yesterday, my brakes started squeaking really bad.  My grandson Sam told me that they put "squeakers" in your brakes to warn you.  He also said you can remove them, but that if you do, then you don't get a warning that your brakes are in need of repair.

So I am not going to go shopping for a mattress, I'm taking my car in for repairs.  I bet it ends up costing more than a mattress.

Everyone thinks I should buy a new car.  I'm not going to do that either.  I have two Town Cars that run.  Why would I want a car payment?  One is a '99 with one hundred and thirteen thousand miles on it--in excellent condition.

The other one is an '08 with eighty-five thousand on it.  It's badly in need of washing.  The Lincoln dealer will do that today.  It has a scrape on the back bumper where I let the garage door down on it.

That kind of damage says "Stupid" to everyone.  It's kinda embarrassing--but not enough to tempt me to pay to paint it.

I'll get a new car when both of these cars give up the ghost.  In the meantime, I'll find another way to spend the money I don't spend on a car payment.

I signed a contract a year ago January.  Was promised an edited edition in May. Promised twenty finished copies to take to my high-school reunion the weekend of July the fourth.  And publication in September.  

None of that happened.  Here I am on December eleventh still editing the mess the publishing editor made of it all.  And this is the third go around.

They assured me yesterday that we would finish it today.  The most we have ever been able to do is twenty pages a day--and there are one hundred and eighty four pages to go--second time around.  The entire process is insane.  Nobody has done anything they said they would do since last January.

The problem isn't me.  I'm available twenty-four seven days a week except for Sunday morning.  The meeting cancellations have been four out of five on their part.  

Okay--that's all I'm going to say.  I have a headache from the stress of people who tell you what they are going to do and then don't do it.  I've never in my life been in a situation like this.

Give me people who are on time and do what they tell you they are going to do.  All my friends are coming up with the next excuse I am going to get from the publisher.  Carolyn says it will be because someone's "eyelash fell out."  Then Carolyn said--after weeks of them giving me excuses: "How many eyelashes does the publisher have left?"

Jeanette--on the other hand--keeps trying to calm me down.

It's a good thing I have friends.

I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond yesterday and bought an electric lap blanket.  To keep my toes warm.  Of course I got a color that didn't work when I got it home--and had to take it back and exchange it.  I hate to shop.

I was able to get my new washer and dryer last week without too much trauma.  The washer doesn't have an agitator in the center.  I didn't notice that when I bought it.  I just walked in the store, looked at two different models, and said, I'll take that one.

When I did my first load of wash, I figured I'd made a big mistake.  Turns out, I like it.  It rotates the clothes in a different way so that the sheets don't get all tangled up and twisted.  Ann said hers is like that and she likes it really well.

And now, I have to get a new mattress.  Mine dips in a couple of places because I sleep in the exact same position every night and never move.  On my right side--so I'm sure my face is flat on that side???

I dread looking for a mattress like the plague.  Squig has a little place on the other side of the bed, on the mattress i have now, that he has hollowed out as well.  I lift the covers up and he finds his spot and immediately goes to sleep.

It takes me longer to go to sleep than him.  I usually read my Bible for a half an hour or so, and by the time I get through praying for the people in my family, I'm nodding off.  

I never get through the list, I just start where I left off the night before.  Four kids, their spouses, ten grandchildren and their spouses, and six great grandchildren.  My brother,  sister, their spouses, children and people in my connection group.  Some of them need more prayer than others.  You know how families are?  I guess I have become the matriarch.  

Squig is still sleepy from his visit to the Vet.  He lost another tooth in the process.  He now has less than half of his teeth.  That's the problem with being born a schnauzer.  Bad teeth.  Choose your parents carefully???

He'll be twelve in March.  That's eighty-four in dog years.  I don't want to think about that.

Thinking about age, Jon, (my youngest son) brought his two boys over to see me on Saturday.  Tate is four, Brady is eight.  The reason God gave children to younger people becomes apparent when you are around a couple of them for an hour. They are very well mannered, but busy, busy, busy.

By the time you have the good sense to raise children, you don't have the energy you need to raise them.  So you just have to do the best you can when you have kids.  Jon has a lot of patience with those two energetic boys.  I can't believe I raised four children and had the energy to do it.

I gave Tate and Brady a shovel and sent them outside to tear the dried okra pods open and plant the seeds.  I didn't tell them that the seeds had to be planted in the spring to have a chance to grow.  No need to spoil their fun.

We played Uno.  They both beat me over and over.  I think I'm over the hill.

When It was time for them to go home, both of them began to cry and beg to stay with me.  That was flattering.  It's nice to know you are loved.  But Jon had the good sense to take them with him.  I could have kept one of them, but both at the same time would have been the end of me.

My oldest grandchild is thirty-seven; the youngest is four.  They were both born on Feb. 20.  They are the bookends of my grandchildren.

Becky and Craig took me to the Messiah last night.  The conductor turned to the audience at the end and directed all of us to sing the Hallelujah Chorus.  It was a wonderful evening.  They took Kathy and husband Steve as well.  Kathy and Becky do estate sales together all the time.

Steve is the guitarist for Darci Lynne, the American Idol winner--with her puppets.  So he travels a lot.  It was nice to have everyone in one place for the evening.  Josh went as well.  Steve and Josh were the guys on tap when I bought sofas at an estate sale Becky had.  They lugged them into my house and set them up for me.  Family and Friends are a blessing in my life.   

I stayed up last night at the Messiah way past my bedtime and am groggy this morning.  I'm going to have to take a nap before the day is over.

I'm on my way to the Vet.  Squig has to get his teeth cleaned.  And they have to put him to sleep to do it.  Which bothers me.  But schnauzers, as a breed, have horrible teeth so it has to be done.  Squig loses teeth every time we do this.  The best thing about schnauzers is that they don't shed.  I guess you can't have it all.

When I took him to the vet for a teeth-cleaning in Pryor, it was usually under a hundred dollars.  I've taken him to Guthrie for the last times and it was $185.  But it gets harder and harder to get him there, so I thought, "It can't be that much more to take him to a vet in Edmond.  Edmond--the home of the rich and famous.  $405.  We will be going back to Guthrie.

There is a steep price for a dog that doesn't shed???  But what is a girl to do.  I'm in love with this little dog.  I'll eat beans and cornbread for a month.  God created schnauzers for people like me.  They aren't good for much of anything but to love.  And I do that quiet well.

I was reading in the book of first John last night.  John wants to reassure people that what he had encountered was first hand.  That he is a first hand witness to events concerning a man named Jesus from the town Nazereth.

So he begins in the first sentence by saying that he has heard it, seen it with his eyes, looked upon the events and has handled numerous parts of the events.  This is not hearsay.

Then he says," That which we have seen and heard, we declare unto you, so that you also may have fellowship with us..."  Then he continues by saying, "This then is the message which we have heard of him..."  John was making sure that those people out there, (who believed in Jesus being the Christ) had the assurance of hearing it from someone who had been there when it all happened.  He was an on the spot reporter.

If you read through this short letter you find that he used the word "Know" 36 times.  He wanted people to know.  To have assurance.  In 2:3 he says, "And hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments."  Know that you know.  I love to hear first hand accounts.  He emphasizes that he is writing this down so that they will "know."  And uses the word "write," or "written" or "declare" at least thirteen times.

"Give me the facts," someone might have asked.  And John said, "Here's what I know; here's what I saw, experienced and I know absolutely to be the truth.

When John, Peter, Jude, Matthew, or James write something, you have a first hand, three year observance of the life of Jesus.  Paul asserts that he met Jesus on the road to Damascus and is also a first hand believer.  Paul did a 180 degree turn around from murdering Christians to becoming one of them.  I'm a believer in part because of what they wrote. 

Last week, our Sunday quarterlies started covering a study of the book of Numbers.  The first eight chapters cover a census of the people.  Twelve tribes are numbered.  Poor Moses.  He was out in the desert trying to get every one going in the same direction.

They started us in chapter nine--thank goodness.  The first eight chapters are like reading a phone book.  Most of you probably don't know what a phone book is?  (I still have one from 1956.  No, I don't know why I kept it.)

The people were complaining, "Manna for breakfast, manna for lunch, manna for supper."  After forty years of wandering around, I doubt we would do much better.  

They were led by a cloud by day, and a fire by night.  They got so used to those two things, and probably thought those two things were normal.

Like us...the sun comes up every morning and the moon every night.  That's the way it is.  Normal.  I can't help but wonder if they were just like we are.  We are so used to the sun and moon, we have lost our wonder of the universe.

Trees die in the winter.  And come spring, they burst into green.  Such a magical event.  It happens every year.  Maybe we are so used to it that we have lost our wonder of the miracle of things that are alive.

I've gotten hooked on Dr. Pol on TV.  He's a Vet.  After watching multiple episodes, I now think I could pull a cow, and dehorn a steer.  I think I could sew up a dog after a dog fight.  (I'm pretty good with a needle.)  New little critters being born is such a miracle.  Puppies, kittens, little goats and sheep.  Maybe we need to regain wonder.  Maybe we need to recognize the hand of God in our world.

There is too much stuff to read anymore.  Information is drowning me.  I made the mistake of ordering a "three for $5.00 set" of magazines for a year.  I won't do that again.  I don't have time to read them so I walk them over to a neighbor who does.  They are Mostly recipes anyway.  And I am not going to cook them.  It would take one person forever to eat one of those recipes.  

And my neighbor brings me "Time" mag. when he is through with it.  I try, but the articles are too long.  And boring. My attention span is short.

When I started writing this blog, I determined to write six inches--or however short the small page I write on is.  No longer.  If I go a line over that, I go back and edit it until it is shorter.  That's enough.  Nobody wants to read more than that unless it is a good book.

I found that when I was teaching math at NEO, the attention span of a student who was listening to instruction was fifteen minutes--then you had to give them something to do.  So I would explain something for fifteen minutes, then give them a problem I could assist them with--and when everyone got the concept, move on to explain the next concept for a minute or two.  "Doing" is more instructive if you have someone to help you than "Hearing."

The TV is just noise anymore.  If you want something near the truth, you have to listen to three or four different stations.  Nobody simply reports the news anymore.  They spout opinions.  It makes me weary.

And since some people only listen to only one station, they are brainwashed into that station's opinion.  Discussion of ideas is out, out, out.  Like I said at the beginning, Information is drowning me.  Let me rephrase that:  Opinions are drowning me.  Figuring out what is true is a huge effort.  

They installed my new washer and dryer this morning.  I am on my fourth load of laundry.  An interesting note about that:  When I took Squig to the Vet last week, the Vet spent at least twenty minutes with me, explaining everything.  Then took Squig to the back to run some tests.  My entire bill was fifty-five dollars.  For a medical veterinarian doctor.

When I called a service man last week to see if he could fix my dryer, he walked in and said, "It's seventy-five dollars for the call to be paid now for me to look at it.  And another eighty-five dollars to fix it if I can.  Parts will be extra."

That's one-hundred and sixty dollars plus parts.  With no guarantee that he would be able to fix it.  Somebody needs to advise high-school students to go into the repair business.

That kind of work has exploded in demand.  Probably because college doesn't teach very many hands on trades.  So nobody knows how to do common stuff.  Since the fifties we have geared high school courses to a pre-college direction.

Back when I was in the eighth grade, nobody had to go to school after that.  High school was for those going into professional careers.  Which obviously isn't needed any more to make a decent living. Now, we have a standard curriculum that everybody has to meet to graduate, and twelve years of education required to graduate instead of stopping at eight. 

There were also apprentice programs back then as well.  Where you could learn to do things.  One of the best kept secrets in Oklahoma is our Vo-tec schools.  Years ago we voted a sales tax exclusively for Vo-tec schools and now we have a bunch of them with permanent funding.  State of the art.  Low size classes.  Well paid teachers.  It's a real success story.  My son Jon taught physics at a high school, but now teaches robotics, drones, and such at a Vo-tec school.

I have never done Black Friday.  There is a reason for that.  I learned my lesson in Savanna, Georgia 1962.  Way back before the Black Friday concept had been invented.

 I had gone to a highly advertised sale at a furniture store at eight in the morning.  It was just a sale, nothing spectacular.  They were clearing out the store at reduced prices, and we needed a sofa.  

I was there early to get in and get a good selection, as soon as the doors opened--which opened out, not in.  When the doors opened, the crowd behind me surged forward and pinned me against the edge of the opening door and I couldn't breath.  

Eventually the pressure behind me finally rolled me off the edge of the door and into the store. But there were a couple of minutes I thought I was done for.  I was trapped.  I thought they were going to break my ribs.

Needless to say, I was done shopping.  I would look for a sofa some other day when there was no hysteria.  Saving a little money isn't worth risking your life.
I had never been in a crowd like that.  Being from the nineteen-fifties in Oklahoma, I didn't expect rude people behind me to surge.  I thought everyone would wait their turn.  I learned something about human behavior that day.  You can't predict what people are going to do.  Especially when money is involved.

I don't shop much any more.  For one thing, I can't walk any distance for very long, and for another, I have found that when I need something, I save money in the long run if I just go buy it.  I never make an impulse purchase because I'm not out looking for stuff.  It took me ten minutes to buy a washer and dryer last week.  On Monday--not Friday.  They gave me their Black Friday price--because I asked for it.  No crowd.

I never did get a exact count of how many people were at Becky's house for Thanksgiving dinner.  On top of all the family, there were a couple of guys from a group home, and a couple of Asian exchange students.  Around thirty-three of us. I'm sure I missed someone.

We didn't run out of dressing or gravy which was my responsibility.  Or pie.  Becky does the pies.  Two or three pumpkin.  Three pecan.  Mincemeat. Coconut cream, berry cobbler.  I don't know how she gets all of those made, but every year, she does.  And whips real cream thick for topping off the pie.

Scott kept us laughing.  He has more hilarious stories--and a comic ability to tell them.

You never get to talk to all the people you want to talk to.  It's a mad house.  There were twelve members of the family that didn't make it.  I don't know that we've ever gotten everyone there at the same time.

We always do Thanksgiving as our time to get together in the year.  It's an agreement that seems to work for our family.  Everyone scatters for Christmas to the outlaw sides of their families and smaller groups.

Of course, I'm the oldest person in the room and can't help but think of all the Thanksgivings I'v been to in the past when there was an entirely different group of my family who gathered for turkey and blessings.  They are all gone to heaven now, and a new group has been born and gathers as a family.

I remember when I was little, my grandmother had all the family to her farm in Wilburton.  Then my mom took over doing it for years.  Then me.  And now Becky.  Everyone has a food "assignment" and somehow the table is covered with every favorite dish imaginable.  And everyone eats too much.  Ahhhh...

Lately, every time I turn the television on, especially the news, there is a new phrase that is being used that is really stupid because the news people don't know the word they are using. They just heard someone else use it.

It is the phrase, "The calculus is..."   Have you heard it?

The news person will be talking about something and say, "Well the calculus of the situation is..."  Or, "That will involve the calculus of what they find out..." or some other stupid use of the word calculus.

Does it makes them feel important?   I'm no engineer, but calculus is one of the easier courses that engineers took.  And the field of engineering is for brains.  Most people don't try that field of study because it is way beyond difficult.  Excruciatingly difficult.    You don't have to have calculus to be a news anchor.  I bet none of them ever took calculus and don't even know what calculus is. 

Calculus is the study of limits.  So I guess if the newsperson is talking about the fact that the American public has reached the limit of their endurance with the government not getting anything done, they may be using the word calculus correctly.

Government has become dysfunctional. (dis-functional)  And functions are important distinctions in calculus.  They are stated as f(x).  And in calculus, you derive something from f(x)= ?.  They aren't deriving anything in Washington.  They've quit functioning.  So maybe the news is right--the calculus of the situation with the government is stagnant?  We should pray for them all.

Last year I promised myself it was my last year to make giblet gravy.  I like to never got it into the car to transport last year, much less make it.  But Scott called and asked if I was making giblet gravy.  Nothing else--just that.  So I buckled down yesterday, went to the store and bought two hens, gizzards, and livers and put them on to boil.

You can't make decent gravy with store bought chicken broth.  You have to make your own.  When everything was cooked--till it fell off the bone--I boned both chickens, separated the white and brown meat and put it all in the refrigerator.  I was whipped.  

Now I remember the other reason I decided not to make it.  Exhaustion.  And of course I always make the dressing.  So there were the onions and celery to chop up and cook.  And corn bread to bake.   By the time I got through with all of that it was 6 PM and there were dishes to hand wash (too big for the DW). 

Then I read for an hour or so.  Jeanette has me reading a second book to her that I've finished.  I can only do that for a little while before I get hoarse and my throat gets scratchy or my phone has to be recharged. 

Today, I'm going to mix up the dressing and cook it.  I've got everything ready to mix together.  Tomorrow I'll do the gravy.  I still have to boil the eggs for that.  I swear, I'm never going to do giblet gravy again.

Last night I told my sister Lisa, that I think I'm done and over the hill and she said that if I'd teach her, she would learn to make giblet gravy. (She's 21 years younger than me).  She reminded me that our mom hated to bone a chicken and that she had to do that growing up.  So did I!! I told her.  So she's halfway to doing it.  Next year I'll do the dressing and let her do the gravy.  It's time to pass it on to someone else.  Nobody knows how I do it.  It's Butter.  

I went to UPS and picked up the bound, revised paper copy of "The Letter."  I don't believe it.  I had asked for something I could touch and mark to finish my end of final editing with a pencil in my hand.  The publishing company paid for it, and shipped it, so maybe they are as invested in it as I am.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.  This is the rendition that the editor and I have been working on for months and months.  We did it by phone, reading every word together, arguing over changing wording and passages.  Hours and hours and hours on the phone.  Reading, listening, arguing. Sometimes I won the point, sometimes her suggestions were helpful.

I've had a headache the entire time.  Total tension.  And my ear hurts from holding the phone to my ear.  I should have used the speaker phone button but I would forget.

Like I said once, getting a book to be picked up by a publisher is almost impossible.  But the rest of getting it to market is agonizing.  I've learned a lot.  That's why people self publish--it's easier.  But with a publisher you get into every library, and bookstore, and mega-advertising.  So I will do it again.  But next time I'll have a zillion boundaries, due dates, etc. in the contract when I sign it.  I've learned what I can't deal with.

Jeanette and Carolyn have been invaluable listening to what I write.  Carolyn just finished the second book I've written: "The Jersey Cow" and has declared it a nine and a half or a ten!  She was supposed to read fifty pages and edit, but she said "sorry," she couldn't stop, she had to find out what happened next.  She made changes that were very helpful.  Jeanette is also in the process of going through it, but she wants me to read it to her rather than read it herself.  She had the same reaction.  She helped me make changes as well.  Pointed out things that weren't clear.  Didn't want to stop.  So maybe it's okay.  Hope so.  

If I ever knew this story, I had forgotten it.  How I can forget things like this, I don't know, except I had major heart surgery and was out of commission from the time Scott was ten years old until he was a couple of years older.  I think I missed a lot of dumb stuff he did.

He had to have braces--and of course they hurt every time the orthodontist tightened them.  He had knocked his front teeth out doing some stupid thing or another and the dentist was trying to repair, replace and align what was necessary.

 He hated the braces.  So one day, he took a pair of pliers and peeled them off his teeth and threw them in the trash.  Scott says I was furious.  I'm sure I was.  Scott said Ken was as mad at him as I was.  He had to take him to Muskogee to the orthodontist for repairs.  You can imagine what that cost.  It was always something with Scott.  In his favor, he never did the same thing twice.

He said the maddest I got was when he was supposed to play in an All Star baseball game, but his arm had been broken and he was in a plaster cast.  He wanted the cast off so he could play.  So he soaked the cast in water and peeled it off.  And let the residue of the plaster run down the drain which stopped up the plumbing.  Scott said his sister Pat drove him to the game.  Pat and Becky always took mercy on him.  How he played ball with a broken arm, I don't know.

I don't remember that one either.  I do remember when Dr. Collins put the cast on him the doctor said, "If you and Ken ever have to leave town, let me know so I can put Scott in a full body cast before you go--to keep him from breaking something while you are gone.  That hadn't been the first cast Scott had.

His problem was that he had no fear.  I wish I could say he got better as he got older, but that wouldn't be true.  He joined the Marines because it was fun.

Christmas is a month away.  There will be much decorating everywhere.  Perhaps if we keep the sweet baby in the manger we won't have to deal with the grown man on the cross?   Everybody loves a baby.

I was reading Hebrews 5 and 6 last night and was struck by this thought: We need to move forward in the faith and quit going over the same things over and over again:  5:12-13 "...you ought to be teachers, but you need for someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God; you've become one who needs milk and not strong meat...everyone that uses milk is unskilful in the word...for he is a baby."  We need to have "Biblical Meat."  We need to be weaned from the bottle so we can grow.

And then the writer admonishes them to move on.  Get going.  Grow.  Mature.

He (or she) says, "Leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on to perfection..." not going over and over "..the foundation of repentance from dead works, and faith toward God...baptisms, laying on of hands, resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment."

Those things are necessary from the pulpit, but in our lives, we already know about those things.  We need to be reading the Word, asking ourselves, "What's next?  What does God want from me.  What am I supposed to be learning now that I am a grown up believer."

You can't stop reading the Word.  You can't just say, "I got saved so I'm going to heaven," and think that's all of it.  You have to get off the bottle of milk and dig into the meat of God's word.  The writer says, "...you ought to be teachers..."

Teach somebody.  But remember, you can't teach what you don't know.  We are to be "..ever  learning..." for the purpose of helping babes in Christ grow, too.

I've been once again reading through the New Testament.  I'm in Hebrews now.  Every time I read any of it, I find something new.

But recently, I picked up a Bible that I hadn't used in awhile, and flipped through the Old Testament pages.  I got amused at myself.

I had underlined every verse in every Old Testament book that I wanted to refer back to someday.  But at the beginning of a few of the minor prophets, I had written myself a note.  "Done.  You don't have to read this again."

I think I was saying that: other than the verses I underlined, the rest of that part wasn't interesting?  Or repetitive?  Or instructional?

Probably I was saying to myself that there were only so many hours in a year and that I should spend my time on the other parts of the Bible?

So...I read those "done" parts again.  And in the end, I agreed with my first analysis.  I didn't need to read those again.  And, I didn't underline any new verses.  So I'm going to give myself a pass.  I'll read them again I'm sure because I won't really believe you are ever "done" with a part of the Bible. 

But some of the pages in my Bible's Old Testament are worn out from reading them over and over.  Some of those OT books have multiple parts underlined and notes in the margins.  Genesis is tattered and tea stained.

I think some of the parts of the Bible are more important to us than others.  Otherwise, why would we memorize some verses and not others.  Everybody knows John 3:16.  Do I think you should skip parts?  Of course not.  But if you are one of those who read the whole thing every year just to say that you did it, I give you a hall pass.  Read Hebrews, Luke, 1 John and Romans twice. 

Squig is fine.  Vet doesn't know what the problem was, but said whatever it was, it wasn't anything bad.  That's all I cared about.  Just wanted to be sure.  Today he's back to his old self.  Which means I am, too.

I called Scott the other day to find out the difference between F9 Panthers, and F9 Cougars.  I knew Ken (and his friend Pete) flew the Panther in Korea--it's debut was 1947 and the was one of the first combat jets.  Ken had been chosen to go to the first ever Naval class of jet training, so he was prepped to fly it.  Corsairs for his first 25 or so missions, F9--Panthers after that.

The Panther had straight wings, and the upgrade Cougar had swept wings which (as I understand) allowed it to fly much faster and break the sound barrier.  Ken had told me that the Panther rotated around the fuselage, and the faster Cougar rotated around the wing tip.

You all aren't interested in all of that I know, but I was--because Ken's best friend Pete Olsen killed himself by rotating a Cougar into the ground while practicing low rolls off the beach in Corpus with the Blues--flying solo.

Ken always thought Pete thought for a split second he was back in Korea in the Panther, rotating around the fuselage--and when the plane rotated around the wingtip, it hit the ground upside down.  There were so many of Ken's close friends that got killed in those early days of jet aviation. Ken always said that he figured he'd end up in an airplane in a hole in the ground (prematurely).  Every close friend he had was killed in an airplane.

I told you a few weeks ago that the book I'm working on right now covers a span of years during Korea, and when I wrote about Pete, I went to the Blue's site and there was no record of Pete.  Scott is rectifying that error through a Navy Captain he knows.

I'm taking Squig to the Vet this morning.  He just isn't acting like himself.  I think raising four kids qualifies me to know when something is "off."  He's lethargic and has had pancreatitis before--which makes me uneasy.  it's a common malady for Schnauzers.  I'm probably just overly cautious.

Sunday we discussed (in my connection group) how different writers of the books in the New Testament began their gospels, or letters.

Matthew started with the genealogy of Jesus to prove that He was of the linage of David, and a rightful heir to the throne as the Messiah of the Jews.

Mark began by reminding us that the prophets said that God would send a messenger before Jesus came--and John the Baptist was it.

Luke was writing to a friend, (Theophilus) and started his gospel by saying he wanted to put in writing the order of things that he had learned about Jesus and authenticate the record of the eyewitness that Luke knew.

John started before the world began to establish that Jesus was there at the creation, and in fact was the Creator.

Acts was written again to Theophilus, and was Luke's account of things after Jesus died.  It is considered the only book of history in the New Testament.

Then we have the letters from Paul, who starts most of his letters authenticating that he is an apostle.  That he had met Jesus on the road to Damascus, and had been ordained as the apostle to the Gentiles.

And after that, the book of Hebrews--no one is sure who wrote it.  If you look at the introductions of all the other books, maybe it could have been a group who composed it.  Maybe they sat with Paul in prison while someone recorded their thoughts?  Or maybe, as Latayne Scott posited in her book, "A Conspiracy of Breath" it was Priscilla.  I loved that book. I also love the book of Hebrews.

Yesterday was a stellar day.  I got something done that has been on my list of things to do for over thirteen months.  Ever since the day I moved last year.

I had a wall over there that I called my Wedding Wall.  Pictures of Ken and me, my children's, and their children's wedding pictures were hung there.  

But when I moved here, I didn't have a wall where I could put them.  For some reason, this house has fewer blank walls and more windows.  So I stacked them on a bed in a bedroom I didn't use--to do later.  And they have stayed there all this time--along with all the other pictures I didn't know what to do with.

My solution was to close the door to the room when I had visitors.  And procrastinate.  But my friend Jeanette said she would help me.  She couldn't make any decisions--I had to do that--but she said she would keep me company while I worked.

Now that is a true friend.  It took the better time of the day, but I got all the pictures in boxes and stored away.  I had thought that having to look at the mess would motivate me to do something about it.  It didn't.  But with the pictures in boxes where I can deal with them one box at a time, I might, (might) get them sorted to give to the people who need to have them or throw them away. (?)  Everyone keeps their photos on their phones nowadays.

Then tomorrow, I am going to have a party at my house for my connection group--and leave the bedroom door open.  The room looks great.  No pictures on the bed.  No mess.

Amazing what an offer from a friend--to help you--can do for your attitude.  I just didn't want to do it by myself.  Too boring.  I needed someone to talk to me while I worked.   My friend Jeanette came to my rescue.