My friend, who now boasts the impressive letters “FNP” after her name, gave me this interesting health tip. If you or a loved one suffers from asthma, well, let me know if it works.

I sometimes joke that I have writing in my genes as my father is a journalist, but Lee Shelton IV has theology in his genes, with his forefathers being some impressive preachers of the Calvinist stripe. Those with Arminian ancestors might think that stripe is white surrounded by black fur and accompanied by a strong stench, but I say a TULIP by any other name (as in “reformed” or “Calvinist”) would smell as sweet. Read Lee’s explanation for “Why Does Evil Exist?”

Rick Saenz gave us a copy of Roadfood a couple years ago, and Debbie told me about Square Meals (which I found at a library sale). Here’s an article about the dynamic dining duo, Jane and Michael Stern (registration may be required to view this NYT story).

My husband once almost set the garage on fire with a chemistry experiment using black powder, and he had another mishap using hydrogen gas. Children today, however, have few opportunities to blow themselves up—or get excited about science—as the plastic safety bubble being blown up for us all by the Department of Homeland Insecurity ostensibly keeps us out of trouble but actually impedes scientific progress. This story gives a bleak picture of the nanny state’s control impacting scientific endeavors in our country.

My friend sent me home with a bag full of lemons from her tree. I used them in this yummy recipe for dinner last night.

Today Baby Braveheart fell and his canine tooth puntured his cheek, just next to his lip. He may get a little scar from the cut, which he will someday be proud of, but each time these little accidents happen, it gives me a few more gray hairs and takes time off my life. Tonight I’m waiting up for Benjamin to get home from his first EMT class. He just called to say that on the way back he was the first on the scene at a 3-car accident. At least he wasn’t in the accident. My children tell me there’s a whole stripe of gray down the back of my head now. Maybe it’s just my Calvinist stripe .

There are SO MANY good deals at Bookcloseouts right now. The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis for $1.99, plus many other titles by him, too. You can read the long list of my recommendations for shopping there, here.

If you go to the bottom of this page and click on the link for the archives, then scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the link for my first post, you will see that is was made on May 30, 2001. That makes this blog five years old. In dog years that’s 35, but I’m not sure what blog years equal. Some nights when I’m writing, I feel like I’m as old and creaky as Methuselah, so maybe it’s better not to ask.

Since I’ve been at this for so long, and since it is my blogiversary, won’t you leave me a little note to say hello?

Tonight I was full of good intentions. I was playing eeny-meeny-miny-mo again to figure out which window on my desktop would provide the inspiration for a blog post. My desktop is actually quite tidy as Steve recently gave me a faster computer, and when I had to move everything from Lucy I to Lucy II, I had to restart my machine and lose all those open windows which had cluttered it up. So I’m starting fresh, and the wind is in my sails (figuratively speaking) with such a fast processor powering my computer, but I’m going to ignore those beckoning windows, hoping nothing in them grows stale, and instead freshen up my neglected Prairie Muffin Manifesto with a new addition.

Talking with a friend last month, who is about the same age (all right, she’s a couple years younger) and whose life is busy like mine with many children of many ages, we discussed the regrets we sometimes feel when we expend precious energy but see little—or even negative—return for that expenditure. That inspired this:

44) As we pour out our lives in service to God and our families, we do not measure success by the visible return on that investment, as if we are accountants keeping record on a balance sheet. In the economy of God’s kingdom, our sacrifices are of great value, even though we may not see all the benefits now, or even in this life. We mustn’t regret any effort given in service to our Savior, and we ought to follow the example of Paul who rejoiced to be “poured out as a drink offering” (II Timothy 4:6), knowing that in pouring himself out on the sacrifice and service of the faith of others, he did not labor in vain (Phillipians 2:16-17).

I had a jam-packed weekend, which started—like many Americans’—on Friday, and lasted until this evening. I was grateful to be driving in the opposite direction from most people who were taking advantage of a long Memorial Day weekend, thus avoiding most of the traffic snarls. I’m afraid I didn’t avoid all snarls, though. I was snarled at most rudely last night, and I did a little snarling of my own, I’m sorry to say.

Ben and I had gone to the Bay Area to attend the graduation of my dear friend who was granted her Master’s degree as a family nurse practitioner from San Jose State on Saturday. We stayed for a party for her that evening, and then we went to church with our friends on Sunday before returning home. The sermon at Reformed Heritage Church, by Pastor Gary Wagner, was wonderful as usual. He preached a convicting message about pride and humility. The text was from I Peter 5:5-6:

Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time.

Boy, was it convicting.

When we were nearing home but still in civilized areas (as in, large retail establishments abounding), I phoned home to see if I needed to pick up any supplies not easily obtained locally, like large boxes of laundry detergent at reasonable prices. Whaddya know, that’s exactly what was needed. So we made a detour to pick up that important item as well as a few other things that inevitably jumped into my shopping cart.

The parking lot was a little busy. I scanned the rows of cars to find a parking space, and I turned our sedan down a promising row. As soon as I turned, though, I had to stop, as an elderly gentleman began backing out of his spot. I didn’t want to crowd him so I stayed a respectable distance away to give him room to maneuver his vehicle and be on his way. While I was waiting, a car behind me honked loudly—I am refraining from using the words “and angrily” as this story’s point is not to cast aspersions on anyone but myself; however, you could tell the driver had not just accidentally brushed against the horn.

“Did he just honk at me?” I asked Ben. He averred that it did seem to be the case. What gall! I proceeded to give my son an earful about the rudeness of some people. Still complaining, we headed for the store, and lo and behold, the honker and his wife and little girl were entering just ahead of us. In fact, we were going to be picking our shopping carts at the same moment. That golden moment.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said as the honker turned to look at me and my son tried to look like he didn’t know me. “Did you honk at me in the parking lot?”

“Of course I did,” the gentleman replied (I refrain from descriptions here as I don’t want to muddy the message, but he was a middle class chap like me, except I’m not a chap).

“I don’t know why,” I answered. “I was stopped for another car, waiting for an elderly gentleman to back out of his parking space.”

“You had at least five parking spots between you!” he responded, as if my spatial reasoning was severely impaired (how did he know?)

I wanted to say a lot to this impatient fellow, but since his wife and little girl were looking on, all I said was, “You are very impatient!” and I walked away with my shopping cart, leaving icicles in my wake.

I seethed as I walked through the store, occasionally muttering grumpy and sarcastic remarks to my hapless son, especially as the honker frequently popped into view while we shopped. My thorn in the flesh even ended up about three customers behind us in the checkout line, and I quipped to the checker that she had better hurry up or he might get upset, giving her a summary of our parking lot episode. Shame on me.

It wasn’t until we were near home that I calmed down enough to reflect upon my little petty episode of parking lot rage, and I didn’t like the reflection I saw when I peered a bit more closely at myself. I had been angry because of my pride…how dare that man honk at me, especially when I didn’t deserve it! I began to think about how I could have handled it differently.

What if I had talked to Mr. Honker by the shopping carts with a calmer tone to my voice, asking, “Excuse me, sir. Did you honk at me in the parking lot?”

When he responded, “Of course I did,” I could have said, “I’m sorry if I was blocking your way. I was trying not to crowd the elderly gentleman who was backing out of his parking space.”

If my tone was sincerely apologetic, it might have disarmed him right away. Or, he may have still complained about me being so far back rather than moving closer. If so, I could have continued to be apologetic for that, too.

A soft answer turneth away wrath.

God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.

The world’s wisdom says that I should have given it to him good (and boy, did I want to!), set him straight and let him know what a jerk he was being for not being willing to wait 30 seconds longer to get his parking spot. But if I do that whenever I’m offended, what opportunity does that give for showing Christian forbearance, what doors will be opened for telling others about the Lord? On the other hand, if I had given a soft answer, perhaps I would have had an opportunity to explain that I had been tempted to be angry by the honking but that as a Christian it was more important that I not respond in kind, but be kind even to those who are unkind to me. I could have brought glory to the Lord but instead, I indulged my prideful spirit.

I couldn’t apologize to the impatient honker, but I did apologize to Ben for setting such a bad example. There are plenty of opportunities to get upset by the rudeness of strangers, but the humble Christian response to such common behavior is a rare commodity.

Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous: Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing. For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile: Let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and ensue it. For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil. And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?

But and if ye suffer for righteousness’ sake, happy are ye: and be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled; But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear: Having a good conscience; that, whereas they speak evil of you, as of evildoers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ. For it is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well doing, than for evil doing. ~I Peter 3:8-17

This morning I walked with several of my children up the road (you should see the view we have!) to our friend and neighbor’s house, where middle mini muffin gives her children piano lessons. I visited with Carol for quite awhile outside while the children played with the new kittens, and I admired the raised beds she and her husband had recently built. It was time to go, and I called for my children several times, but each time I had most of them with me, one would have disappeared; then while searching for and finding the missing child, another child would have wandered off. That, and the little kittens, brought to mind the expression my husband sometimes uses: “It’s harder than herding cats.” Herding children is no easy shakes, either.

Finally, we were all together and ready to roll, and we had started up the driveway, when a car started down the driveway toward us. Carol anxiously called, “Carmon, don’t leave yet!” She had perceived correctly that it was some Jehovah’s Witnesses come to try to convert her. There were four older men in the vehicle, all dressed in their Sunday best. The driver rolled down his window to speak to me, and he looked a bit uncomfortable. He said they had come to talk to us “about the Bible,” but he noticed we were “busy” so he thought they should come back another day.

My children were very disappointed as they enjoy seeing Mommy in action, discussing the Bible with the JW’s who come to our house. I told Carol to call me if they should show up again. I think they might have guessed we were Christians from the passel of homeschooled children, so they decided to look for easier pickings. If you should have JW’s come to your door, here are a couple of Bible passages to discuss with them, using either their New World Translation or the King James Version.

First read Exodus 3:13-15. Ask them what Jehovah God calls Himself there (”I Am”). Then go to John 8:48-59. Read the passage and ask them what Jesus says about Himself in verse 58 (”Before Abraham was, I AM.”) Why didn’t He say, “I was”? Why did they take up stones to kill him? (Hint: because they knew He was claiming to be God, and they thought he was blaspheming).

Another passage you might discuss is Revelation 1. Read verse 4 and ask, “Who is and was and is to come?” (Jehovah God, who is distinguished from Jesus in that verse.) Read verse 8 and ask, “Who is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End…who is and was and who is to come, the Almighty?” (They will answer, “Jehovah God.”) Then go to verse 11 and ask, “Who is the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last?” (Jehovah God.) Then read vv. 17-18 which say, “Do not be afraid; I am the First and the Last (they already told you this was Jehovah God). I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore.” Ask them, “When did Jehovah God die?” While they are searching for an answer, you can remind them that Jesus is God, the second person of the Godhead, and that He claimed to be God; the Bible is replete with direct and inherent references to His deity.

If you are really bold, you might remind them of John 14:6 (”No man comes to the Father but by Me”), and let them know that they won’t be one of the elect in heaven if they don’t believe that Jesus is God. If they try to change the subject, the conversation is over. You need to direct it, or you’ll end up down rabbit trails. Let them know that you will be praying for them, too, and do it!

On the way home, the children and I noticed red clover (Trifolium pratense) blooming everywhere, so we pulled some up by the roots and brought it home to sketch for our nature journals. I read to them about clover from different sources, and one noted that Saint Patrick was reputed to have used a three-leafed clover to teach the Irish about the Trinity. That may be a legend, but God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost—one God in three persons—is as real as the air we breathe. If we can accept that deep complexity in simple faith, then we can be like the clover, whose roots are full of living organisms (25,000 bacteria in one small nodule!), drawing invisible but real nitrogen from the air down into the soil, to enrich the place it’s planted.