God's daughter. Woman of faith. Wife. Mother. Grandmother. Servant to the King.
Posted 11/20/17 at 11:40 AM | Karen Farris
Only one other passenger climbed aboard for the long bus ride that evening—a scruffily-dressed man, who was heading back to an alcohol addiction facility.
He’d offered this bit of information to the driver and me as he dug in his pockets for the bus fare. He was quite cheerful, despite the weariness on his face and the ragged clothes he wore.
The man chose a seat near the driver and kept up a one-way conversation for much of the journey.
My eyes met the bus driver’s in the rearview mirror—I saw his eye roll, but the man, dressed in an old Army coat didn’t seem to mind that we didn’t respond to his chatter.
As the skies darkened, the man explained about his life on the Olympic Peninsula back in the 1950’s and 1960’s.
He told of his boyhood exploits along the Elwha and Dungeness Rivers. He could fish and hunt—often times skipping school to do so. His grades reflected those choices—and when his draft number was called he was sent to Viet Nam. FULL POST
Posted 11/7/17 at 10:46 AM | Karen Farris
Tucked away in my cabin loft are the toy blocks that once built a perfect world.
Once upon a time, my grandson and I built the world out of wooden blocks, Legos, and green Monopoly houses.
We spread out across the floor with domino roads connecting cities and nations. Each place was populated with little people bearing identical smiles. Black, brown, and yellow plastic faces represented the world’s many races.
We made certain everyone had everything they needed—from playgrounds, to ice-cream stores, to Chuck E. Cheese in each locale.
Those plastic smiles were real in this make-believe land. I stood and surveyed our miniature world and decided something else was needed.
I brought over some tall books to give boundaries between the countries. My young grandson didn’t like that idea. He said it would be easier for everyone to get together if we didn’t have anything in the way. FULL POST
Posted 11/2/17 at 6:01 PM | Karen Farris
Thanks to the Informant, we’re going to get a glimpse behind the political curtain.
But, I for one, would not want to be the Informant. He’s outing Vladimir Putin. That guy has no mercy.
Ever read about what happens to opponents in Putin’s homeland?
This former lobbyist, now informant, needs round-the-clock body guards. And since one of Putin’s tactics is poison, watch over his food and drink.
The Informant will also be testifying before Congress about Hillary Clinton and the mysterious Uranium One deal—the $145 million dollars from Uranium One into the Clinton Foundation.
There are also details emerging about a $31 million dollar donation to the Clinton Foundation and a certain company being acquired by Uranium One. While we hope this informant will live to tell what he knows, perhaps more looming questions are why does Russia need 20% of US uranium and can we trust Putin? After all, Russia is friendly with North Korea and “Death to America” Iran. FULL POST
Posted 10/24/17 at 6:50 PM | Karen Farris
Where did we get the idea that it’s the government’s job to take care of the poor?
Not from the Bible: “Whoever has a bountiful eye will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor.” Proverbs 22:9
“She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy.” Proverbs 31:20
And from the Apostle Paul: “Only, they asked us to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do.” Galatians 2:10
Perhaps the War on Poverty, launched during President Johnson’s term, made it easier for Christians to trust the government to help the poor. FULL POST
Posted 10/24/17 at 1:20 PM | Karen Farris
As an eight-year-old kid, I became enthralled with the musical theme from the movie Exodus. I didn’t have a clue about the movie or the story behind it, but Dad explained about the Bible's exodus by an ancient nation in slavery, the plagues that led a mighty king to finally let them go—and their exodus to a land that would be their own.
It was a journey where they had to learn to trust God for everything.
On my next piano lesson, I boldly asked my teacher if she had the music to Exodus. She looked at me over her eyeglasses, rose, and walked to her massive musical collection.
She extracted the sheet music and held it in front of me. “You’re not able to play this,” she declared. Compared to the few musical notes in my beginner’s books, I could see why.
So back home, I put the record on the phonograph, and began plunking out the melody on the piano. While I didn’t have the ability to read it from music, I could try and learn it by ear. As I played the single note melody, I imagined the exodus and how their uncertainty could easily become fear. FULL POST
Posted 10/16/17 at 12:52 PM | Karen Farris
Me Too is the latest social media awareness campaign. Type “Me Too” in your status and let your friends and family know that you’ve experienced some sort of unwelcome or twisted sexual advances.
Maybe it happened at school, work, or maybe in what should have been a safe sanctuary…your home. There are some awful stories behind Me Too.
Hollywood’s Harvey Weinstein and his predatory practices gave birth to the Me Too campaign. But I wonder why the rich and powerful women’s champion Jane Fonda didn’t speak up—since for years she knew it was happening. As they say sometimes all evil needs is for good people to do nothing.
If the Me Too campaign could change predatory behavior, this would be celebratory.
But I imagine it will be as short-lived as the ice-bucket challenge for ALS.
Yet, this much is certain: our individual Me Too stories are a powerful testimony of how blurry the lines of propriety have become. And how wrong it is to face this anywhere at anytime. FULL POST
Posted 10/12/17 at 11:41 AM | Karen Farris
The nighttime graffiti artists tagged the brick building with a multi-colored message of hate.
Morning commuters hardly scanned the new addition as they walked to work.
Only the city workers faced the chore of removing another reminder of community discord.
But as they set out to scrub the blight, a young man approached with an offer. The city workers shrugged and set off to another graffiti-removal location.
The man sat back and stared at the words woven into graphic violence—adorning an otherwise bleak brick building.
He returned with paint cans, brushes, and a ladder. It took some time to single-handedly transform the vulgar into a vision of peace.
But the commuters took note. So did the city workers. A reporter snapped a picture and soon the city residents became aware of how some hateful graffiti became a place to express hope.
Artists now take turns drawing messages that bring a vision of good possibilities.
Posted 10/10/17 at 1:12 PM | Karen Farris
Most Sunday school kids learned to sing, “I’m in the Lord’s Army.” We loved the hand motions, the marching feet, and saluting as we sang together. We truly were fighting together.
But somewhere along the line, we decided to break rank and use our weapons of words against one another. It’s been said that Christians are more likely to "kill" their own.
That’s a sad commentary on our faith journey and conflicts with our true mission here—to serve and glorify Christ.
Modern Christian battle lines are drawn on opposing sides of homosexual relationships, abortion, sex outside of marriage, and co-habitation. Christians argue about the inerrancy of the Bible. Does it really mean what it says? Or does it change with changing cultural norms?
While most Christians are united in helping the poor and working towards eliminating racial injustice, our arguments about doctrine on right and wrong further divides us. Oh, our enemy Satan revels in the disharmony. He celebrates when churches divide, or even better dissolve. At no other time does our nation need Christ’s love and God’s wisdom. Let’s remember that when Jesus-loving people are divided, we can’t help heal our broken nation.
Jesus knew their thoughts and said to them, “Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand. Matthew 12:25
Posted 10/3/17 at 12:12 PM | Karen Farris
During a time when life feels particularly fragile, I found something that should have broken, but didn’t.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. Nestled among some smaller rocks, with steady waves crashing amongst the larger rocks next to it, was a tiny urchin shell.
Delicate to the minutest detail and fragile like no other shell on this rocky beach. Yet, as I picked it up, there was not a single fracture or chip in its perfection.
I smiled. Isn’t that like God? To first create something with such fine artistry, fill it with life, then set it on a mission.
Somehow, this tiny one hadn’t made it far, but even so, it was here for me to find as a reminder that God is in the details.
If He created a sea creature with its own purpose, will He not do even more for his people?
Oh yes, and He will also find us when we feel washed ashore among the cold rocks. He will be the one to pick us up, smile, and declare, “Oh precious one, I created you and will always care for you.” FULL POST
Posted 9/26/17 at 4:27 PM | Karen Farris
The dining room tables were inlayed with an intricate design and set with nice silverware and decorative centerpieces.
Comfortable chairs, large windows, and attractive lighting made it classy.
Smiles and conversation filled the room as attentive waitresses jotted down selections and delivered entrees.
We perused our menu. Despite the crowd, the service was responsive and friendly. Not the kind of friendly that is seeking a large tip at the end of the meal—but the kind that comes from someone who, despite it being a job, seems to enjoy it.
Looking around the sea of faces, no one was close to my age—the wait staff were in their 20’s and the diners were in their 80’s and 90’s.
My mother-in-law is currently staying in a senior living facility, while she regains her strength from surgery. FULL POST