New "Wisdom" for a New Year

1-1-11 marks the second anniversary of my blog! Since Noah helped to name my blog two years ago (he was three at the time), I thought it fitting to let him help me write this blog post for the New Year. This worked out perfectly, as he and Claire spent the night and all day Thursday with Grandma and Papa. Claire and I dressed dollies and polished our nails while Noah played piano, then Noah and I read “SkippyJon Jones” books and worked on the blog post while Claire napped.

On last year’s anniversary, I wrote about my Grandma’s leftover soup. Grandma was better known for her little adages or bits of wisdom; if she were still alive today, she would be 108! I thought it would be fun to tell Noah some of Grandma’s sayings, but let him provide his own endings. It proved to be a lot of fun for both of us. Are you ready? Here they are:

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man ………tired.

Haste makes ………you fall down.

If a thing is worth doing it’s ………making a funny face.









If you can’t stand the heat ……….get some new batteries.

Never underestimate the power of ......a car. (I hope he remembers that when he’s 16!)

You can lead a horse to water, but ......the horse can drink it. (Is that really fair?)

Laugh and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and ......your dad will make you laugh.

Don’t put all your eggs in ......your backpack.

A bird in the hand is ......light.

Better to be safe than ......slow.

A penny saved is ......one cent –that’s easy!

All work and no play makes ......no fun.

Don’t bite the hand that ......scratches you.

It’s always darkest before ......bedtime.

Two is company, three is ......better.

You can’t teach an old dog ......to dance.
(Papa thinks this excuses him from ballroom dance lessons this year!)

Every dog has its ......bone.

Wasn’t that fun? But we aren’t finished yet. Noah’s final saying is the one I want you to remember this year:

The best things in life are ......sharing and hugging.

What a great thing to remember, whether you’re 5 or 108! Both sharing and hugging are free, by the way. Neither of these can be accomplished alone, however, so spend every day sharing what you have with others, and don’t be stingy with your hugs. It will make 2011 much, much better –Noah and I promise! Happy New Year, my friends! May God, who shared his best gift with us, be your source of blessings and courage throughout all the days of the coming year.

Weasel Ways

By Sharlyn Guthrie

Max snarled as Farmer Jake swung the long gate shut, latching it behind him. A sharp, corrective yip from the Collie’s mother silenced him until the farmer was out of sight.


“A lot of nerve he has, locking us up like criminals. I know. You’re going to say it’s for my own good.”

Mona sighed. “If you will simply stop this nonsense of running around with the weasels, Farmer Jake will start leaving the gate open again.”

“Get off my case. I’m not giving up my friends for you or anyone else.”

“But Max, it’s not natural for dogs and weasels to be friends. Our job is to protect the farm and the livestock. Weasels are thieves and murderers.”

“There you go, judging my friends again. You don’t even know any weasels. You can’t accuse them all just because you’ve heard terrible things about them.”

“I didn’t want to say this, Max, but you’ve left me no choice. It’s not just what I know about weasels that bothers me. It’s the changes I’ve seen in you since you started running with them.”

“Give me a break,” Max growled.

“Just hear me out, Max. For one thing, your attitude has changed. You used to nuzzle and play. You were never disrespectful. Now you snarl, growl, and talk back. Whatever were you thinking, snarling at Farmer Jake like that? Don’t you know his hands are the ones that feed you?”

Mona shook her thick mane before continuing, “You used to take pride in your work around the farmyard, but now you sleep all day and run all night. I don’t even want to think about the trouble you and your slinky friends must be getting into. And that stench! Do you have any idea how bad you smell? You reek, just like one of them! No wonder the dogs want nothing to do with you.”

“They’re just jealous. I’m the one having all the fun. I’m eating better, too. All Farmer Jake gives us is dog food and table scraps. Bor-ring! I’ve developed a taste for fresh food. I like to eat it while it’s still warm.”

Mona shuddered. “Son, I fear for you –for all of us. At least you won’t be prowling tonight; or anytime soon, for that matter. I’m glad Farmer Jake has put a stop to your foolishness.”

Mona curled up in a nest of hay near the barn door, keeping one eye open and trained on Max. As soon as she was convinced he was asleep, she began dreaming of sheep in rolling green meadows. A commotion brought her quickly back to the barn and up onto her strong, narrow legs.

Squawk! Squawk! The disturbance was in the hen house, on the other side of the fence. The other dogs were awake now, too, but the gate remained locked. Screeching and yelping sounds could be heard along with fluttering and squawking. Mona began to bark, and the others joined in the woofing, howling chorus.

Finally, Farmer Jake flung open the farmhouse door and the yard was flooded with light. One long, masked critter streaked out of the hen house and disappeared in the field beyond. Brandishing a shotgun, the farmer stormed into the hen house. Two shots rang out, silencing all but the nervous clucking of a few chickens.

Farmer Jake kicked the door open. Two lifeless weasels hung over one arm, while four dead chickens dangled by the feet from his other hand. He dropped the still forms into a barrel, then re-entered the hen house.

This time he emerged with a limp, shaggy form draped over his arms. Max! Mona searched frantically for him inside the fence, finding only a few tufts of his coat snagged on the wire above a freshly dug hole.

“I’m guessin’ ya got more than ya bargained for, Max,” said Farmer Jake. “Those weasels did a number on ya. If’n ya live through it, maybe it’ll teach ya somethin’, ya thick-headed mutt.” His harsh words were spoken with gentleness.

The wounded dog whimpered then, and Mona replied with a long, mournful whine. She hoped that her wayward son would survive and be a better barnyard dog for the experience. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Max’s pleasing puppy heart had been exchanged for that of a murderous, two-faced weasel.



“He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm.” Proverbs 13:20 (NIV)










I have the privilege of hosting Fiction Friday today. If you would like to participate, just add your link here:

Enticed

My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them. If they say, "Come along with us; let's lie in wait for someone's blood, let's waylay some harmless soul…my son, do not go along with them, do not set foot on their paths;*

I was first enticed by sinners as a pigtailed six year old. Marsha and Sandra approached me with an exciting plan for recess one day. “Hey, let’s chase the boys, and kick them when we catch them,” they plotted. Being from a family of all girls, my experience with boys was limited; the thought of attacking them had never occurred to me. After watching my friends for a few minutes, however, I decided it looked like fun, and I joined them.

Our fun was short-lived. Mrs. Casebeer (I’m not making any of this up) promptly hauled us to the classroom and plopped each of us in our own separate corner. I remember doubling over with my head in my lap, and scooting my little wooden chair as far into the corner as possible, in hopes that I would somehow become invisible. My father was the principal of the school, you see, and my greatest fear was what would happen if he came in and saw me in that corner.

I don’t know how long I sat in the corner –probably ten minutes or so, but I worried and stewed for months about Mrs. Casebeer telling my father what I had done. Apparently she never did. Neither did I ever again have the slightest urge to chase boys on the playground for the purpose of inflicting pain.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.**

Fear is a powerful deterrent. Even though the punishment was light, the fear that enveloped me following my first grade escapade made me so miserable that I tried very hard from that time on to obey my teachers and stay away from the trouble makers.
Today, when I find myself rebelling against healthy eating habits, daily Bible reading, and other areas of wise discipline, I can’t help but wonder if my problem is a lack of fear. If I truly fear God, shouldn’t I find the resolve to accept wisdom and live a disciplined life?

Father, I know that You love me in an intimate, personal way. You have even invited me to call You “Daddy.” I thank and praise you for that privilege. Now, create in me an understanding of Your righteousness, Your justice, Your might. Teach me to fear you in a way that brings me to my knees, fills me with awe; and causes me to hunger for You alone. In Your precious and holy name, Amen.



* Proverbs 1:10-15 (NIV)
**Proverbs 1:7