Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Favorite Farm Animals Give Their Two Cents

Welcome, ask the 'Mystic Goat' a question and then click on the video for his answer.

Here's an example question:

Is being a Mystic Goat pagan?

*click the video for the answer*


Ok, we know it isn't a goat, but the 'Mystic Lamb' just doesn't sound right.
The dog photobombing this video just doesn't get it!

This cat's response to learning Obama was elected a second term mirrored ours.


And this sheep's reaction matches perfectly with ours regarding the daily news reel especially the political columns!



This goat sums it up nicely when trying to decipher modern journalism….


Ha ha ha ha!

Concocted from the minds of Alex and Chandra Brown…
This is what you get from too much vacation time!

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Mary's Trust in God

I just can't seem to shake this habit of writing about Mary the mother of Jesus during the Christmas season. It is our tradition to read Luke Chapter 1 and 2 on Christmas Eve to remember the facts of the miraculous fulfillment of prophecy about our Lord and Savior, Jesus.

This year I found some old thoughts about Mary in my journal from 1994. It is regarding her thoughts about Jesus. I find it very interesting she was able to witness the life of Jesus lived out from day one.  Her life must have been very rich having the Son of God in the flesh grace her household.

Think about the miraculous events surrounding the house of Joseph and Mary. They knew the Old Testament prophecies about Jesus were fulfilled through them. God using their life for His purpose; they were blessed. (Remember, the word blessed means God's involvement in your life and you recognizing it.)
Nativity Scene: Georgetown, TX
Photo By: Chandra Brown
Here is a short list of prophecies fulfilled in the household of Joseph:

  1. The messiah would be born of a virgin: Isaiah 7:14, Matthew 1:18
  2. The messiah would be born in Bethlehem: Micah 5:2, Luke 2:4 (Prophecy written approximately 6 centuries before Christ was born)
  3. The Messiah would possess a dual nature (hypostatic union); Isaiah 9:6, John 1:49,11:27
  4. The Messiah's birthplace would suffer a blood purge: Jeremiah 31:15, Matthew 2:17,18
  5. The Messiah would be carried to Egypt as an infant: Hosea 11:1, Matthew 2:15
It says in Luke 2:19, Mary quietly treasured those things in her heart and often thought about them. This was at the time of Jesus' birth. In Luke 2:51, again it says Mary stored away the things she witnessed concerning Jesus in her heart. This time He was a bit older and she was amazed at His obedience and the things He was saying in the Temple after he was found in Nazareth after three days of searching for their 'missing' son. 

As a mother it must have been difficult to grapple with the future fulfillment of prophecy as it became known to her. Simeon, an elderly follower of God who knew he would not die until he saw the Savior, held Jesus as a baby in his arms and prophesied to Mary and Joseph the turmoil that lay ahead. Luke 2:34- "A sword shall pierce your soul, for this child shall be rejected by many in Israel, and to this their undoing." 

Thoughts As We Read Luke

To think of the ultimate joy and the deepest sorrow felt by Mary as she let God use her life towards His purpose; from the tumultuous scandal of a virgin birth with the accusations that come with it, the torment of heart and shaky trust in the relationship with her betrothed. 

THEN GOD slips in a little comfort when she visits her pregnant family member, Elizabeth and they rejoice in the knowledge of the truth they are living in.

God understands the dilemma of such a situation in the fallen, human world and sends angelic beings ministering to Joseph to strengthen Him in making the correct decision towards Mary.

Oh the struggle in traveling away from close family and birthing your first baby in an unfamiliar setting.

THEN GOD slips in a little comfort in the form of recognition and celebration by sending shepherds, wise men bringing gifts, and angels praising the wonderful occurrence; the invitation was the Bright Star. 

Mary and Joseph were figuring out this new baby/toddler thing when King Herod becomes jealous and stirs up an evil plot to secure his power by killing all children under the age of two as a legal decree throughout the land. God understands the dilemma and sends Joseph a warning dream and Mary and Joseph are now, parents with a toddler traveling to a distant, far-off land with barely anything in their packs and with no job secured when they get to their new home. Oh the stresses of marriage and parenthood! 

Fast forward a few years and Mary and Joseph are living in Nazareth, with more children. They decide to go to Jerusalem and they lose Jesus for three days, oh the anxiety and worry. They must have felt like awful parents. BUT GOD slips in and had Jesus at the Temple safe and doing what he wanted Him to do.

The story goes on, I urge you to read the full account of Jesus' life, I hope what He is and what He has done for you jumps off the page and grabs your soul and you'll ponder the things He has done and promises to do in your heart as Mary did.


For Speculation Sake:

I wonder if Mary ever thought something like this…..

I gave birth to God the one who created me and gave me life.
I feed the one who provides for me.
I give the one who cleanses me a bath.

VIDEO:
I Love your heart Mr. McGee!!!

Monday, December 22, 2014

Leaf, Leaves, Leaving

Leaf, Leaves, Leaving

Leaves By: Chandra Brown

A solitary leaf,
All alone
Meets some leaves one day.

The solitary leaf has found some friends
so now she is a 'leaves' too.

Suddenly her friends are swept away
and again
she is a solitary leaf

All alone.

1994-Chandra Debee
2014-Chandra Brown

Leaf by: Chandra Brown

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Christmas Dinner

Have you noticed as the years pass by your focus on the Christmas holiday tends to shift towards, "What's going to be served on the table," versus "What's under the Christmas tree?" Visions of prime rib, roast turkey, hand mashed potatoes, stuffing, home made rolls, wine and pies dance in my head as I remember Christmas past. What delicacies do you cherish from your Holiday food traditions?

Anyone remember sneaking the black olives off the  relish tray and putting one on each finger just for fun? Oh ya, I was that kid!


Norman Rockwell: Family Dinner

Christmas Dinner

Oh, the anticipation Christmas dinner brings
The smells, the aromas and delicacies.

Mom's and Dad's slave all day
measuring, concocting and basting away.

Children ask, "Is it time?"
"Let's get this thing on," they whine.

Soon the dinner call sounds
and the family gathers all around.

Find your place card near the plate
so you can sit down to masticate.

Men are ogling all the glories set before them:
Stuffing, potatoes, the big fat hen
vegetables, gravy and homemade pie
"Let's dig in," they all cry.

Women sit straight and tall with a proud face
at the picturesque scene and the feast
about to take place.

Now children are of a different mindset

I'll let you in on how they think…

"LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH

AND GET THE DISHES IN THE SINK!"

It's not that they don't like the food
or intend to be rude
They've just got different priorities, you see
and they are underneath the Christmas tree.

They wish their mom's would cut them some slack
and make Christmas dinner an evening snack.
Mom's test their patience to the highest degree
and won't excuse them from the table, no siree!

Not until it is socially appropriate and
the adults have had their fill
will Mom let them free.

AND STILL…

The kids will have to wait for the
dishes to be cleared, washed and put away
before they can open their gifts and play.

"Why," the children wonder,
"Do parents participate in this traditional ritual?"
"Every year, every Christmas it's habitual."

"It must be a rite of passage to make us wait,
when I'm older with kids of my own I'll make things straight."

It's funny how it seems like yesterday
I was the kid thinking the same way
and today I repeat the ritual,
my daughter's rite of passage to pay.






Friday, December 12, 2014

My Dog's Life In A Nutshell

Little Boingey Barky
Photo By: Chandra Brown

Little Boingey Barky
Queen of the hood
Sporting off an attitude
and thinks that it is good

Little Boingey Barky
walking down the street
you can hear her clickey toes
as she moves her feet

Little Boingey Barky
patrolling the fence
yammering at the people
trespassing is an offense

Little Boingey Barky
gets called inside
let's go in the car
on a long ride

Little Boingey Barky
trotting down the trail
sniffing out critters
makes her wag her tail

Little Boingey Barky
hears, "Daddy's home!"
she comes a running
and drops her bone

Little Boingey Barky
begs at your side
please let some food drop
my mouth is open wide

Little Boingey Barky
tucked in the bed
sleeping and snoring
on the pillow by your head

And tomorrow she'll do it all again!

BY: Alexandra Brown
Chandra Brown

Snuggling!
Photo by: Chandra Brown

Posing in Nana's Yard
Photo by: Chandra Brown

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Slanty Shanty 101

The neighborhood kids have been creatively living on a thought stream when they get together to play in the afternoon. They are determined to build some sort of fort or shelter. They have spent countless hours rummaging through piles, scoping out the pipeline for stray items and sneaking away useless treasures from their homes to add to their material list.  You can see the cogwheels of their brain turning as they try to see their idea to fruition.

I have been a happy observer of this childhood entertainment. I told myself to step back and see what they come up with, this should be amusing at the very least. The first fort was on my back deck using full leaf bags as walls and towels as the roof. It had a couple of rooms and it quickly turned into a 'His' and 'Hers' club.

The leaf bags eventually went away in the trash pick-up and I thought the shelter idea would go away with it, but those kids were determined to build something! This time they stacked round branches we had stored from an old tree in the corner of the yard. It really looked like a fort the Pilgrims may have built. I was impressed to say the least.

Over the next few days the wood pile and towels have taken different forms all over my yard. Some of the wood I have no idea where it came from. When a kid really wants to accomplish a task, magic seems to happen and progress takes place.

One structure made me a little nervous, so I stopped observing and stepped in with a minute lecture on Engineering 101: Stable Structures, OSHA and the statistics of these two ratios creating noggin knots if not executed properly. I think they understood my explanation because they immediately re-engineered the slanty shanty.
The 'Slanty Shanty'
Photo by: Chandra Brown

Their drive and willingness to work as a team has affected me in a curious way. Being an independent person, I like to do it myself, all by myself and take the failure or credit myself. Watching their spirit as they worked in unison toward their goal made me wonder if my independent streak needs a counter measure.
'The Lean To'
Photo By: Chandra Brown

Their passion makes me want to build them a sturdy, permanent fortress that I can use too, namely a shed. Maybe I'll ask the kids if they want to help me and insert myself in their world for a moment. I think they would be a great counter-balance to my independent streak.

My Shed Inspiration:
Leaning Pear, Sugar Shack Bakery-Wimberly, TX
Photo By: Chandra Brown

Thursday, December 4, 2014

A Love Letter

I've been thinking about my Grandma's quit a bit lately, both women were lovely matriarchs of large families. The older I get the more I wish I knew about these amazing women. I have splendid memories of visiting them in Wisconsin during my childhood, but I so wish I could have known them as children and learned why they thought the way they did and what events shaped and molded them into the beautiful women I experienced. Their legacy lives in the details and memories of their children and grandchildren, a puzzle that can be pieced together by sharing those specific perceptions.

This is my small view of Arlita, my grandmother on my Dad's side. When I imagine her as a child I would say she was a whippersnapper, as a teenager; spunky, as a wife and mother; hard worker, as a grandma; sweet but sassy and as a woman; fiery.

As I write about her my mind is flooded with the great impressions she left on me. One of which was her way with words. She wrote this when I was seven and I've kept it all these years hidden in the pages of my journal.
Grandma Debee and my Dad at my wedding

A Love Letter

I wrote a letter to my kids
It was short and sweet
And when I read it over
I knew it wasn't very neat.

Should I start all over?
Tear up the messy sheet?
Indeed, they might discover my weakness
I don't write so neat.

No, I'll send it on its way
Another day I won't delay
For I want them to know today
How much I love them every day.

Poem By: Arlita Debee



Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Heaven

Have you ever had a person grace your life for a short moment and leave an impression on you that lasts a lifetime? I've always wondered why certain wonderful people cross paths only to be together for a hiccup in time, why is so hard hard to hold onto those people you feel a certain affinity toward?

Suzanne was the type of girl you could talk to about words and she wouldn't get bored. She loved literature and poetry. She was constantly trying to get her poems published in contests. We would spend hours chatting about her upcoming writing career.

She called me up one night and said she just had to read her latest creation aloud to someone and she knew I wouldn't mind. When she was done she told me her latest work was dedicated to me and she was entering it in a contest under my name. I asked her why not take the credit for the work with your own name? She said it would be fun to write under a ghost name since famous writers tended to do that. I let her have fun with her little joke and promised when the poem received its due praise I'd be honest and tell the world who really wrote it.

Needless to say, Suzanne moved away to the East coast not long after that. We both said we'd keep in touch but you know how that usually goes. I never knew if her poem made it farther than the post box but here it is for old times sake.

'Trees and Sky' Photo by: quinet

Heaven

I watched the snow flurries falling from mysterious, shrouded heavens last night.

I watched as those pure-white, glittering sprinkles,
frozen tears from the faces of the angels
dusted the slumbering earth with perfection.

Poor Snowflakes
Cast from divinity down into the sullied world of flesh
to breath the finite breath of humanity,
and lie forever in the hands of time.

They lived shortly, quietly, brilliantly
giving only one brief scintillating flash of God
And then mortality.

I watched the snow flurries falling from the mysterious, shrouded heavens last night.

And for a moment I believed that I could see the very curtains of the sky fall away
Leaving only the glow of my spiritual haven forever
burning like a cinder in the depths of my eyes.

April 4, 1994
by: Suzanne Derryberry



Monday, December 1, 2014

Whispering Wind

I've been looking back through my old high school and college journals because I found them lurking in some dark, hidden corner of my attic I desperately want to clean out. I think they would make good kindling as I read some of the entries. There's a load of 'cheestastic' thoughts, (a term my daughter and I coined) a bunch of gushing sentimental ravings and most of the pages take up long sermons. Boy, I haven't changed much through the years. (Ha! Ha!)

Before I decide to chuck the old memories in the fire in my quest for catharsis; there were one or two things in my endless writing that may be worth saving. I may just share a few of my youthful thoughts in the next few posts for old times sake.

Who knows in another 20 years, I may riffle through this blog and have a bonfire, but for now this old poem made it out of the past and still has some bearing for the present.

Saint Matthew and the Angel: Rembrandt, 1661
'Whispering Angel'  Photo by: carulmare


Whispering Wind

A whispering wind bestows its wisdom in the ear of whom it chose,
but who is worthy to receive such wealth in a world full of woes?

What is this secret the wind whispers?
Where did it begin?
Was it from a woman's womb
or perhaps a weathered tomb?

Whose privileged ear does this breeze tend to brush?
A nursing infant whose mother quiets him with a hush
or an aged man sleeping eternally into dusk?

Journeying to the depths and heights,
searching for the answer morn and night,
I questioned wise men near and far
of whose answers seemed quite bizarre.

Traveling far my heart had to know
what was this secret the wind lay hold?
For this was the key to life unbarred,
free from sin and the bondage of scars.

Desperation enveloped my soul,
this curiosity has done its toll.
I fell to slumber under its weight
and that was where I met my fate.

I slid endlessly into a dream,
free from torment of my own scream
for the answer to this undying silence.

And then a whisper gently came to recompense

Speaking lowly and with only one sound,
the Breath of Life filled my ear with
the glorious answer releasing my fear.

Finally, the treasure I have found.

My heart raced with exhilaration
as senses savored this new incantation (mentation)
A smile disclosed this inward vision
and then….
I awoke.

Chandra Brown

UPDATE: 10/27/2017
OK, Since I've been accused of so many things that are not true recently... I am not, nor have I ever been a witch or involved in any divination practices with my consent. The word I used in this poem, 'incantation' certainly has it's roots in words used in magic spells. An unfortunate choice on my part, sure, I'll own it. I have always loved words and stringing them together has been a great enjoyment of mine. I've even admitted to using some a bit too liberally, as an amateur poet, I do this. So, I'll replace incantation with the word mentation. It means to think carefully on a matter. That better fits my personhood.
The poem is about the questioning and discovery of Love. I was single when I wrote the poem and had many musings (yes, I know that word can be taboo too) about the subject, I was studying the Victorian era where they were not open socially with their love interest and usually wrote notes and poems masking their feelings and intentions. (Read John Donne: The Flea- what a 'crafty' fellow).
So I mimicked what I was learning in the style of the poem.
Even the Apostle Paul called the subject of marital union between a man and a woman a mystery (Ephesians 5:32). I have been married for 19 years now and I still am baffled at God's design and gift within marriage.