The Cross

Several months ago while I was in the barn, the title of a book caught my attention. For those of you who are unaware, while most people keep animals or old cars in their barns, our barn would more appropriately be called a library. We don't go to the public library very often because it is generally safe to assume we have a book if it isn't new.

Anyway, the title that caught my attention was Glenda's Story. I forget the subtitle. The book was a thin, white volume and though I had other things I was intending to do, I picked it up and read the whole book. Looking it up, I find that the subtitle is Led by Grace.

Her story is sad. Her parents didn't want her and abused her, she had no friends, and she went through anorexia and depression. Yet when she grew up and was led to Christ by a tract, she was able to completely forgive and move on. She even kept contact with her parents and tried to lead them to Christ. It was challenging to me because so often we excuse our bad responses by what others have done to us-yet for many of us, we've gone through nothing even close to any one of those things. So we struggle to forgive a sibling who annoys us, while people like Glenda freely forgive those who have inflicted mental hurt that we cannot imagine. I find myself thanking God that He has spared me from such things because I wonder if I could forgive them.

When I finished the book, I sat in the barn and thought, and then I wrote a poem. It's probably my favorite of all the poems I have written.

The Cross

I look at the cross;
I've seen it before;
It seems to be nothing new.
Sure, Christ has suffered,
But so have others,
Some, it seems, in a worse way too.
Father, forgive me! As I look at the cross,
I do not see Your pain.
I do not realize all You have suffered,
All for sinners' gain.
All for those who despise Your gift,
For those who just scorn Your loss,
Who scarcely take an upward glance
When they pass once more Your Cross.

I feel betrayed;
I feel I suffer,
Wond'ring why God doesn't care.
I am a Christian,
I'm following Him,
So why does it seem He's not there?
Father, forgive me! As I pass by the cross,
Too wrapped in my own pain,
To look up and realize all You have suffered,
And this, all for my gain.
Too wrapped up in my own hurt
To count it all as loss,
Too busy playing a martyr's role
To take up my own cross.

Help me see the cross
Like never before;
Help me to see it anew,
Make me to realize
In powerful ways,
All that You went through.
Father, impress me! As I look at Your cross,
Help me despise my pain,
As I realize all You have suffered,
All for sinners' gain.
Fill my heart with love consuming
Willing to bear all loss,
Scarcely to notice the passing pain,
As I gaze at the cross.

~ Jeannette Beerbower

Kristen's 4th Birthday

A week ago, Kristen turned four years old.
 

She had been asking me for several months to make her a "kitty-cat cake" like she had last year. When I asked her this month what she wanted her cake to be, she said, "Purple."

So, she got a purple cat.

Both of us wanted to go outside to take pictures like we did last year, so we did.

I can generally get her to cooperate if she has flowers, a cat, or leaves to occupy her.

She thought it was funny to put leaves in her mouth.

It's amazing how something in your hand gives you boldness around the rooster!

Doubtless this will not be the last post that has too many images of my favorite subject. It's hard to narrow them down when she's so adorable!

On Blogging

Blogging, I suppose, is a good thing for me as it involves two of what I might call hobbies, two things I enjoy, photography and writing, as well as anything else. I had a blog, but it was simply a Word document, and being technologically challenged as we are, it decided to stop working. I had the prototype for this post's contents there, but I am unable to access it, and things are never as good when you try to figure them out again.

Some people seem to have some sort of idea that I am good at these things. "Beerbowers have read every book on the planet," they say. I only raise my eyebrows and think of that huge list of books I should read but haven't and how long it's been since I finished reading a book. The strangest people-not that they are strange, but that they say this is-will say, "You take really good pictures," and I only wonder when they have ever seen any picture I have taken.

So remember, if you read my blog, that I am not the one who ever said I was a professional photographer or writer. I simply said I enjoy them. So if I have bad pictures, mistakes in grammar or spelling, or boring posts, don't say I didn't warn you.

And the latter is likely. I am doing this blog mostly because I enjoyed doing it on our computer, and not to interest anyone else. Just to amuse me and my sisters and because I found it helpful for thinking through the pictures I took. I imagine only a few friends and family (hi, Aunt Cathy!) will read it.

And I like it that way, because I don't like reading personal things and then feeling closer to someone than you actually are.

And I realize I started the last three paragraphs with and. Rules were meant to be broken. In grammar, anyway.

Now I am going to put a picture on my profile because it annoys me when people don't have a picture of themself on their profile.