How to be a Christian

So you have a clear understanding that you are an imperfect sinner and in desperate need of a Savior. You've admitted, confessed and believed. I guess that makes you a Christian, right? But now what?!

If we read our Bible we see that Paul tells us in 1Cor 11:1 “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” Well, we've heard the stories, Jesus turned water into wine, he healed the sick, fed five thousand, walked on water. How can we possibly be like Him? Let us go back to our Bibles. In Mathew 20:26-28 we read “... Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” We can see this same theme echoed throughout the Old Testament in Deuteronomy 10:12 “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul...” and Joshua 22:5 and 24:15 “But be very careful to keep the commandment and the law that Moses, the servant of the Lord, gave you: to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to keep his commands,to hold fast to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.” and “...As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

                                                                    

But do we have to? Serving seems like a lot of work. Yes! Let's jump to James, the brother of Jesus, and the author of my favorite book of the Bible. James doesn't mince his words, he's extremely straightforward. In the second chapter versus 14-17 we read, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” The great theologian CS Lewis expounds on this “The only thing that is needed for evil to thrive, is for good people to do nothing” If we are not working for him, we are working against him.

                                                         

Ok, serving is mandatory. We can see that now. But how can I serve? I'm afraid to fly and don't speak Swahili? Relax. Not everyone is called to serve in the same manner. You don't have to sell all your belongings and become an African missionary. You're first obligation is to serve those in your immediate surroundings. Those that you share the dinner table with, your family. If you are a mom like me, wash their clothes, cook their meals, drive them around town and do it for the Lord, not begrudgingly and complaining but with a smile on your face. If you are a dad, provide for your family and be a good example for your kids, help your wife. Yes because you love them, but also because you are called to serve them. If you're a child, clean your room, take out the trash, ask your parents if they need any help. They will love you for it. I know, this is not always the most fulfilling way to serve. Let's be real, it can be thankless. But let's remember Colossians 3:23-24 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” And also Ephesians 6:7-8 “ Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free.”

                                                        

Secondly, serve in your Church community. Volunteer to become a greeter or a Sunday school teacher. Join the prayer chain or take meals to new moms. Trust me, there are a thousand ways you can serve your Church family. They are, after all, brothers and sisters in Christ. Thirdly, go outside your house, there are people in need all over your community. Widows, orphans, the underprivileged. They are all there waiting for your help. Maybe they need help with some yard work, or the clothes your kids have out grown. Carry around a sack lunch to give to the homeless man on the corner. These are excellent ways to serve others. Lastly, go out into the world. If you can't physically go on a mission trip to China, you can certainly support those who can. Pray for them, send them financial support, bring awareness about their work to your circle of influence.

                                                             

Now that we know that we are called to serve and we've seen some solid examples of what that looks like let us put this into perspective. You do need to set up some boundaries because once word gets out that you are a servant, believe me, people will come out of the woodwork looking for you to help. We need to learn to respectfully say 'no'. Make sure you create a margin in your calender. Prioritize the role that NO ONE else can fill over the one that anyone can fill.

Once you get the volunteer fever, you will see how rewarding it is. But keep yourself in check, making sure that your intentions are pure and you are not helping others for selfish reasons. Are you afraid of missing out? Of not mattering? Of missing an opportunity? Do you have guilt? Or are you afraid of disappointing others?

A wonderful Elder and mentor in our church makes this point “Make sure that your serving is done with a joyful heart so as not to rob others of the blessing that was intended for them.” If you're heart isn't into it, someones else's may be. God has made us all unique and not everyone has the same passion or amount of time to commit to a cause. Don't judge others service or seemingly lack thereof. You don't know what they might be doing behind the scenes.

None are called to do everything, but all are called to do something! We are blessed to be a blessing to others. We are His hands and feet in this world. When you serve you are in His will and will be an answer to someones prayer. This is the greatest gift in your obedience to God! 

                                                      

A Tribute to Gramps

 My grandfather, Tom, was born Gaetano Pezolano on July 18, 1918 in Brooklyn, NY. He was a first generation citizen of the United States; both of his parents were born in Southern Italy. He was a sickly child from birth and wasn't expected to make it past his second birthday. He beat the odds and survived childhood even though he was six before he was able to walk.

Tragedy struck in his boyhood when his beloved mother passed away leaving him and his six full and 4 half siblings. Again he was struck with an illness that left him bed ridden and again, he overcame the odds.

Thomas Pezolano in his Confirmation photo

He performed many odd jobs after leaving high school in the 11^th grade but decided to join the military in his early 20's. He was sent to Camp Wheeler when his number came up at the age of 23. Again he was struck by illness. The outfit he trained with was deployed without him. They were all killed in action. And once again he was spared, as God wasn't finished with him yet.

2nd Platoon Co. A 8th Battalion
Camp Wheeler, GA 10/25/41.
Tom is in positioned in the bottom row 5th from the left. 

He was transferred out of the jungles of Panama to join the signal corp. I remember him showing me as a child his ability to translate words into Morse code. He received a star for intercepting the signal of a submarine which was later sunk.

After 4 years, Tom ended his military career and took two years off. He then worked at the post office in a variety of positions before being promoted to dispatcher. He married Gloria, my grandmother, when he was 32 years old, she was seven years his junior. Despite their tumultuous relationship, they share two children, Maria, my mom, and my Uncle Thomas.

Tom, or Gramps, as I called him, loved the Lord and attended church regularly. Much of what I knew of my early faith I learned from him. He would show me with his actions what was expected during each part of the service and I would emulate him.

He was short and stout but was always warm. He'd grab my hands in his and warm them for me when I was cold. Even though his religion didn't teach it, he would lay his hands on me and pray for whatever it was that ailed me. He was stern but loving grandfather. He enjoyed fishing, playing cards and gardening in the years after he retired.

He had been suffering silently with an illness for a while, perhaps figuring since he'd beat so many before he would also be able to beat this one. But it wasn't to be and Tom passed away at the age of 67 when I was 15 years old. Although I'm sorry he wasn't able to see me get married or to meet his great grandchildren, (one of which carries on his given name),  I know that he's been watching from above and I look forward to getting a bear hug from him when we meet again.  

My life with Isis

After two aggressive and failed attempts at adopting a forever dog into our home, we decided to get professional help. We found a website, I believe it was run by Purina, and it allowed you to enter criteria that would allow a search for the perfect breed to suit your family. The only criteria we entered was 'good with children.' The Keeshond was the first breed to be listed and I immediately started to keep my eyes peeled for a breeder in Florida where we resided.

It was Christmas time and Santa had left a dog certificate in the stocking of each of our young sons. It was good for one dog, to be redeemed once we found a fit for our family. It didn't take long! In January, we saw a classified add for a keeshond while staying at my moms house in St. Pete. We called and made an appointment to go and look at the puppies that were available. My husband was working so it was just me and the boys, Jordan 4 1/2 and Christian 22 months. We drove a long way down unfamiliar roads with a red leash waiting to pick up our puppy.

We turned into the drive off of a desolate, tree-lined state road and found that it was a farm, of sorts. We heard the barking as soon as we pulled up. The woman had one breeding pair of keeshonds on her property the others were huskys.  The male keeshond was large...probably 50 pounds. He was in a pen barking incessantly. I was relieved that the female was much smaller, in a separate penned in area and she was tied to a rock by a long tether. The owner explained that as people were coming to pick up her pups, she was jumping out of the pen.

The woman led me and the boys into her house to were we met Isis. Her daughter had named all the pups, each litter with a different theme. Isis's litter was named after Egyptian gods.  Isis was a 12 week old ball of fur. Super soft and so cute, we fell in love immediately! After asking lots of questions, taking care of the paperwork and giving the woman a check for $350, I put the leash on her thinking we'd just walk to the car. She had no idea what to do and I had to carry her there and place her in the front seat. She was a little nervous but behaved very well during the 60 minute drive home.

We had already prepared our house for our new member with bowls and food and toys and a crate. The boys were thrilled. Jordan kept on picking her up and carrying her around the living room even though she was already half the size of him. We mulled over changing her name as we weren't that into Egyptian mythology, but Isis suited her, so we kept it.

  

We read up on how to train a puppy and she was a quick learner. We hung a bell by the door and rang it each time we took her out. She started ringing the bell on her own in no time. We also taught her to sit and shake hands. She was wonderful with the boys although never liked to play. She'd watch the ball you just threw role past her and then look back at you as if to say "What? Did you want me to do something with that?"

For a brief moment my husband thought we shouldn't have her spayed but look into breeding her ourselves because she was 'so beautiful.' And yes she was, but after researching the commitment this process takes, we gladly decided to have her fixed. Alas, her first heat had started. I was measuring it against the human version since I had no experience with the canine one. One week start to finish, this wont be too bad, I thought. Boy was I wrong! She was confined to the laundry room during this time since any doggie diaper I tried to get her to wear wouldn't stay on. Not too mention her musty odor could make paint peel! That was the longest 6 weeks ever! We took her to be fixed the minute she was done.

We had friends at the time who got a kick out of her name and nicknamed her Isis on the Buses. They had both worked in the cruise ship industry and during the land excursions a tour guide would always announce 'No Ices on the Buses!'  Of course he was talking about Italian Ices. But we thought it was a funny story and her nickname stuck too.

We moved from Orlando to Clermont late 2000. She was full grown at this point, weighing 30 pounds. We would walk her around the neighborhood and she'd pull us on the leash. I heard the 'Whose walking who?" joke too many times to count. She is in the Spitz family of dogs so sled dogs are in her lineage and she would pull the boys on their scooters. Once we had the yard fenced, she was able to roam free, and straight to the left hand corner where she'd go nuts on the dog on the other side of the fence. She hated that dog. I had to spray her with the hose just to divert her attention from trying to scratch her way through the fence. After a few sprays, I only had to go out and yell 'Hose!' for her to stop!

While in Clermont, we were adopted by a black cat that the boys named Pumpkin. Oddly named black cat? Well she started coming around our house during Halloween, it's the logic of a 7 year old. Pumpkin stayed outside since both Jordan and I were allergic. But she would sit on the window sill and drive poor Isis crazy. She wanted so badly to get that cat, even though I'm confident that she wouldn't have known what to do with her if she ever caught her.

She also had the annoying habit of darting out the front door. She had us scared a few times as we drove around the neighborhood calling for her. We lived right off of a busy road and always feared the worst. On one occasion I chased her on foot through the neighborhood calling her name. She would stop and look back to see if I was following and then take off before I got too close. I finally said 'Forget it' and turned to walk home, of course she gave up the game and followed me.  She did love riding in the car though, so whenever she darted out, we'd run and open the car door and she'd jump in. After a while she'd just dart straight to the car and wait.

January 2006 we made another intrastate move to Ocala. Our house was two stories on 3/4 acre of property. When we first brought her home, we all went upstairs and called to her from the loft. It was funny to watch her spinning around trying to find us. She finally figured it out and ran up the stairs. She slept at the foot of our bed at night and was always alert. She'd start barking before my husband even drove up the driveway.

Boy did she love that yard and would stay out for hours. She would dig a hole in the corner of the fence and lay in it keeping cool during the hot summer months. But I think she loved when it cooled down better. It was hard to get her to come in. "Treat!" we'd call and then she'd finally relent and come inside.

Pumpkin was killed by a car while we were away one weekend. Our neighbor buried her under a tree. We saw phantom Pumpkins for a while. I don't think Isis missed her much but we did and decided to fill this void with a small dog. We found an add for an 'oops' litter and brought home Yoohoo, the schweenie, that day. She was so tiny she fit in my slipper. Isis tolerated Yoohoo who would be jumping in her face trying to get her to engage. But Isis wasn't the playing type and would ignore her until she had enough and then snap and bark at her.

Isis and her cousin Dexter

I found out I was pregnant the summer of 2009. I was a little worried about how our aging Isis was going to handle the change.  She had been getting a little ornery in her old age. I remember one night I got up to use the bathroom and tripped over her on the floor at the foot of our bed. She must have been startled and she growled and bit my butt! Another incident that caused us concern was when she did the same thing to our niece who was maybe 2 at the time.

Kaleb was born in 2010 and Isis did fine. Until he began getting mobile. She did snap at him a few times as he toddled by her and accidentally got too close or stepped on her toe. We let her know that this was not ok, we didn't care how old she was. We kept careful watch hoping we wouldn't need to find her a new home. She minded her manners and Kaleb kept a wide girth.

In May of 2011 we made the cross country move to San Diego. Isis was 11 1/2 and did a great job being squished between suitcases and coolers during the 5 day 4 night road trip. We have no yard to speak of so we'd walk around the block or take them both to dog beach where they could run free. She stayed away from the water but loved visiting other people on the beach. Yoohoo didn't like to get too far away from us, she's pretty tiny but she did feel safe when she was near Isis.

Her hearing went first. We'd call her name and she didn't even turn her head. She'd start barking at the door only when she saw Yoohoo doing it. One day she was outside and I was calling her in but her back was turned to me. Yoohoo ran over to get her attention and basically led her in the house.

Then she became incontinent and started urinating in the house. This got pretty annoying as we were cleaning up pee daily. Her eating habits weren't the best and she had trouble keeping food down. We knew her time was almost up.

On Sunday, Jan 13th we went to church as usual. When we got back she was sitting in the sun on the back steps. She seemed ok so we left her alone figuring she'd bark or scratch to come in like she always had. A few hours passed and I was going to take Kaleb for a walk. It was then that I found Isis had slipped between the steps and the fence and couldn't get up. I don't know how long she was like this. I tried to prop her on her hind legs but they wouldn't support her weight. I carried her and her blanket inside and laid her in the kitchen. I knew she'd be gone before the next morning. I brushed her and spent some time with her telling her it was ok. She managed to get up very shakily and move to her favorite spot under the table where she then died. Christian was with her and he came to me as I was getting Kaleb ready for bed. "I think Isis just died, I thought she was going to vomit but then she made a weird noise and now she's not breathing." I ran down and confirmed. Isis was gone.

Her last car ride wasn't much like her first. Although she was carried in both times, today she was cold and stiff and wrapped in a plastic bag. "You don't have to come," my husband said. But I did have to. I had to see her off to her next destination. She will be cremated with other pets who've passed, their ashes spread in the ocean.

The Rainbow Bridge...where I hope to meet her again someday. 

  

Evolution of the Chore

It starts right about age 2. You know, the desire to 'help' mom or dad with whatever we are doing. Of course, we as parents want to promote this helpful behavior so we give them a paper towel or a sponge and encourage them to clean the table, which they enjoy immensely even though they are very bad at it. We wouldn't dare injure their fragile spirits by telling them they missed a spot, so after they're done spreading dirt all over the place (including the floor which wasn't even dirty before!) we thank them for helping and then go back and re-clean their mess.

 

As they grow older we gently direct them by teaching them the proper way to do things around the house. This is how you put away the dishes, clean the bathroom or vacuum the floor. They are getting better but they are also realizing this is actual work and they become less eager to help. Of course we still have to go behind them to finish their task up to our standards.

 

Then we hit the teen years. Now we have a written list of chores that they are responsible for and even though they've been doing it since they were six years old, they are still surprised when the garbage needs to be taken out. Rarely does something get done on the first request . And while it was cute as a toddler, the fact that things still aren't done up to par, is much less endearing as a teenager.

Having said all that...what's the solution? How do we get them to do their chores the first time we ask (or if you really want to give me a heart attack, BEFORE I ask!) without complaining and to the best of their ability, which I know is better than what I've seen?  

Money? Do we pay our kids to do the every day things that I've been doing for free for years? I don't think so, they're not hired help, they actually had a hand in contributing to the mess. 

Withholding privileges? Alone, I guess this works with timeliness but doesn't promote a 'no complaining' attitude or doing things to the 'best of their ability' They're usually rushed to get it done so they can go do whatever they think is more important.  

Positive reinforcement? Nice thought but I think teens have short term memory loss when it comes to this. 

In the restaurant business lots of servers have to be 'checked out' before they are allowed leave. In other words, the manager walks through their area to see if it's clean and if they've set up for the following shift. Are all their duties complete and to the standards of the restaurant?

So I'm thinking a combination of a few tactics may work. Withhold privileges until the task is finished, 'checking' their work before they are excused to galavant and giving them praise for a job well done.  It's not perfect but I think I'm going to give it a try!

Tears, I mean, Bananas on my Pillow...

 

Our youngest son is an early riser. Thankfully he usually snuggles with us in bed and falls asleep for another much needed hour or so.  But sometimes he doesn't and is wide awake and raring to go at 6am.

This was one of those mornings. But alas, in an effort to be considerate, my hubby, who was getting up to go to work anyway,  got him a banana, turned the TV on low and put him back in bed next to me.

Most moms will automatically see the red flag in the above situation. Yes, I woke up to a half a squished banana on my pillow and also discovered that, if in dire need, banana makes pretty good hair gel. 

Thank you, well intention-ed hubby and messy two year old!

The Socialist Fish

There's an award winning children's book called 'The Rainbow Fish' written by Swiss author Marcus Pfister in 1992.  Maybe you've heard of it? We have the puffy plastic bathtub edition which I'm sure is abridged.

The basic scenario is that the beautiful rainbow fish with shiny scales is the envy of all the other fish. They don't want to be his friend because he doesn't want to give them his scales.  He becomes sad and after seeking the advise of an octopus decides to give away his scales and of course all the fish like him in the end because they now all have the same single shiny scale.

Is it just me or is there something inherently wrong with this story? Doesn't it seem a little communist to you? I always remember hearing that if people don't like you for who you are they aren't worth your friendship.  This story is telling kids that they should give everyone a little piece of themselves so that they can all be the same.

As I was formulating this post I googled 'Rainbow Fish' to find a piece of clip art. I was surprised to find that according to Wikipedia (I know, not an entirely reliable source) there has been controversy brewing over the theme of this book  that I was unaware of. I'm happy to say that it is as transparent as I found it to be and many others see the socialist agenda behind it.

 Why is this story still so popular? It's title should be changed to 'The Socialist Fish'

Ouc Ouc...not what Robert Frost intended

My toddler has a problem saying the 'T' sound at then end of words. So when he wants to get out of his chair he says 'ouc' which we uderstand to mean 'out.'  My older sons and I tried repeating the word 'out' while emphasizing the 'T' sound but he still repeats 'ouc'

Today, in an effort to help him, we thought of a word that started with a 'T' to get him used to saying this sound. 'T' like 'Turtle' we said. And he repeated 'turtle'. Then we said 'ouT'  But nevertheless he still said 'ouc'

A few minutes later, and much to our amusement, he pipes up and says 'ouc...turtle'  I think our plan backfired. :)