History, Mystery, Endurance

When I found a branch of a wild rose growing through a stone wall it made me ponder the history and mystery of endurance. I had just left the Groam House Museum in Rosemarkie, Scotland, which contains Pictish carved stones dating back to the 6th century AD after the Picts converted to Christianity.

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The Picts are mysterious, thought by some to have been fierce warriors who painted or tattooed themselves. After carving beautiful, intricate patterns and designs that included Christian crosses, the Picts simply disappeared from history in the 9th century, leaving behind place names like Pitlochry, Pittenweem, and Pitsligo, and enigmatic standing stones which—lacking a written Pict language—have never been interpreted.

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The recently discovered Pictish monastery in Portmahomack proves that at least some of the Picts were educated and capable of great art and architecture. Amazingly, the monastery, which housed 150 monks and workers, was built to the proportions of “The Golden Section,” or “Divine Proportion.” This 1.618 to one ration of dimension is found in spiral seashells and was used to construct the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, the Acropolis in Athens, and the Egyptian Pyramids. Along with the single-line carvings of wolves, salmon, and eagles, a piece of broken stone was found at Portmahomack with the Latin inscription: “This is the cross of Christ in…”

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Scotland thrives on history and mystery. As enduring as the rose growing through the rock wall are the Highland Travellers, also called Gypsy/Travellers. Descendants of ancient Roma, they date back to the 12th Century and up until the 1950s, Travellers continued to traverse the Highlands in their brightly painted horse-pulled carts, supporting themselves with metal working and seasonal labor. Plastic replaced tin, motorized vehicles replaced horses, and the Travellers gave up Gaelic as their first language, replaced horses with motor homes and travel trailers, and learned new trades. Their nomadic way of life is a part of their ethnic and cultural identity. Unlike the Picts, they have not vanished into the pages of history—but their numbers continue to decline.

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In his book “Highland Folk Tales,” Bob Pegg credits Travellers for keeping Scotland’s rich resource of folklore alive. Alec Williamson was born to Gaelic-speaking parents and knew only three English words when he started school. He and his parents traveled through Ross-shire—where the Groam House Museum stands—by horse and cart and lived in tents. His father taught the art of storytelling to Alec.

One of Alec’s stories involves Roddy from the “wee glen” of Glutan who left his wife and family to go to America. He never returned, never wrote, never sent money. The eldest son went looking for his dad. Passing a bar, he heard a familiar Gaelic song. Thus, he found his father and sent him home by ship. The father never strayed from home again.

Then there was a young man who went to Aonghas Donn (Gaelic, Brown-haired Angus) for a horse. He walked through the hills looking for the horse, and was approached by what he thought was a stray dog. The dog caught him by the arm. His only weapon was a wee penknife. He sunk the knife into the dog’s neck and twisted it until the dog let go of his arm, sank down to the ground, and died. His arm was so badly mangled that he couldn’t catch the horse. He used his shirt for a sling and went back home to tell everyone about the tiger-striped dog that had attacked him. He continued telling the story years later because, as he explained, “I’d never seen a dog that color before—tiger striped. You’d be surprised at what you might see or meet in the hills even yet.”

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History, mystery, endurance. The rose in the wall brings me back to Picts. As a Christian, it’s comforting to know that Christianity was so strong in the Black Isle of Scotland as far back as the 6th century that Picts carved their faith in stones. We still carve our faith today. Stones not needed. We carve the same message of God’s love in our hearts.

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The Cure

The Bible tells us that “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…and God looked at his creation and saw that “it was good.”

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Then Adam and Eve sinned and sin entered the world, bringing death and destruction with it. God told Adam, “Cursed is the ground for your sake…both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth.” To me…that explains nettles, fire ants, scorpions—and all the other uglies and nasties. They came into the perfect world God created when sin ruined the perfection.

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My first exposure to Scottish nettles was…rather embarrassing. That expression, “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” The gotta hit me during a long woodland hike soon after I arrived in Scotland from Texas. So I waded into high weeds away from the path to do the necessary. Let me just say…you don’t ever want to expose bare skin on any part of your body to nettles—especially not that part!

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But where sin brought a curse, God placed a cure. Broad-leafed plants called dockens will stop the pain and burning when applied to the affected area.

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Most recently, I accidentally ran the back of my hand across nettles when I was walking the dog. I couldn’t find a docken. We were eating dinner when I mentioned the pain to my husband. Alan looked at the redness and swelling…then…just like Brigadoon, he vanished. He was gone so long that I thought about going to look for him. He returned with docken leaves and they stopped the burning and pain almost immediately.

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Because we are living in a sin-infested, imperfect world—there will always be nettles, either physical or spiritual. But where there is a curse, there is a cure. Jesus died to set the captives free from sin, pain, sorrow, illness, and the finality of death. He is the ultimate cure.

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http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Wordplay

Scotland and the U.S. are two countries divided by a common language.

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Even in the U.S., Texans stand apart in the language department with their “y’alls” and “fixintos.” If you plan to travel to Scotland from a U.S. destination, there are a few things you need to know: you don’t get your bangs trimmed. Here, it’s a fringe.

You need to know that sidewalks are pavements. Bus drivers get cranky if you continue standing on the pavement in front of the bus after you are directed to move to the pavement. Or, as they would say here in Scotland, they get crabbit. You can cause a stushie if you continue to blether with a friend while a crabbit bus driver waits for you to take a dauner on the pavement so he can skyte away with the bus. I have met one woman bus driver; she was a quean, a wee cheerful, braw, bonnie lass. But most of the bus drivers seem to be male and dour.

If it’s a grey, rainy day—which some part of every day usually is—it’s dreich and your breeks may get wet. Folks here wear trousers, not pants. Pants are considered whatever is under the breeks and not a topic of conversation.

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If something vanishes quickly in Scotland, it doesn’t go “poof.” I’ve been warned that using that word can make a homosexual crabbit because it’s a derogatory term. It can cause a muckle stramash. Only an eejit would be glaecit enough to act like a wee nyaff and open up the possibility of a skelping. Gives me sweaty oxyters just thinking about scunnering someone, because I’m a sook.

When you come over to visit, do your shopping early. Stores, and even some restaurants, close by 5 p.m., and “late” hours for Christmas are 6 to 7 p.m. If the stores are hoachin, och! You’ll just have to get used to standing in a long queue, or look for the “Way Out” sign. Don’t girn. Practice being thrawn if it’s something you really need.

Most folks from the U.S. know about the spelling differences: colour, tyre, realise, programme, harbour…the KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid) idea hasn’t caught on here. Dish soap is “washing up liquid.” Toilet paper is “loo roll” or “toilet tissue.” Trash bags are “bin liners” and there are no trash cans—they’re bins.

Spaghetti sauce is “Bolognese.” Bread is white or brown—not whole wheat, but you can’t get whole wheat flour—that’s whole meal. When it comes to a beef roast, it’s called “silver side,” and ground meat for hamburgers is mince. You can’t get ham either—it’s gammon. Don’t forget that KISS doesn’t operate on this side of the pond.

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Most folks from the U.S. know that cars in the UK drive on the wrong side of the road, the hood is a bonnet, and the trunk is a boot. But did you know that the windshield is a windscreen?

Yards are gardens, even if there are no flowers or vegetables. You won’t find okra, and zucchini squash is called something I can’t pronounce. You may not recognize the pronunciation of garage and aluminum. Even words like schedule and Isaiah have a different sound to them and folks here don’t submit resumes. They submit curriculum vitae (CVs).

As for dill pickles? Bring them with you.

Three of my books, “Killer Conversations,” “Bridge to Brigadoon,” and “Bridge Back” are set in Scotland, so I’ve tried to introduce Scottish words and phrases to add color and place. I have to admit it; I’m spoiled. Every book I’ve written has all 5-star or 4-star reviews, with an average of 5-stars…except “Killer Conversations,” which rated a 1-star review from someone who said that even though I was from America, I should know that there are no sidewalks in the UK, they are pavements, and there are no street vendors.

Well, I went back to the street vendor who inspired one of the characters in “Killer Conversations” and cringed when I found out his name was Kem. I had named him “Kurt.” Too close for comfort! Same with Miz Mike #6, “Bridge Back,” where the character I spun in my imagination and named “Blair” has a counterpart named “Blaine”! That’s spooky! Perhaps I should start numbering my characters.

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I don’t mind the 1-star review, but I hope the reviewer realizes that if Americans read that Sandy “ran down the pavement” instead of the “sidewalk,” they will quit reading. Who wants to read a book about a kid who doesn’t have enough sense to get out of the street?

Scotland is a lovely country with unmarred scenic views in all directions. As I am writing this blog in the middle of July, we haven’t had summer yet. At least we haven’t had to light a fire in the fireplace today. I think we are all hoping that “global warming” will at least bring a couple of days of summer to Scotland!

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The folks in Scotland are rich, varied, kind, and friendly in character. I won’t offend them by saying that they are a lot like Texans in some ways, because they like the notion of being different. In other words—great folks! They take offense to the 1950s Hollywood musical “Brigadoon,” and things here that are overly Scottish are labeled “brigadoonery.” Hope this blog doesn’t fall into that category. I’d hate to lose my all 5-star rating for “Bridge to Brigadoon!”

I Think I shall Never See…

Scotland’s majestic scenery draws tourists from around the world. Some 40 million individuals will never get to either visit Scotland or view images. They were aborted.

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Not all aborted babies die. Gianna Jessen’s mother’s saline abortion failed and two-pound Ginanna was born with cerebral palsy.

A nurse heard Melissa Ohden crying in a trash can and rescued her. She now has a masters degree in social work and is a vibrant pro-life speaker.

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Just as Brandi Lozier’s body was being dumped after an abortion, the baby raised her arm. She was rescued.

A woman who was seven months pregnant went to Planned Parenthood in California for a saline abortion. Saline burns the baby inside and out and kills the baby within 24 hours. After 18 hours, this baby was delivered alive. Since the abortionist wasn’t on duty yet at the time, the baby was sent to the hospital and survived.

Gianna Jessen testified at a congressional hearing. “If abortion is about women’s rights,” she asked, “then where were mine?”

The U.S. has the highest rate of abortion in the world, more than 1 million a year. Most are girls, most are black. This is the real war on women. Abortion does not make a woman unpregnant. It makes her the mother of a dead child.

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“Loves Beating Heart” was written for young adult readers with the hopes that it will help change the statistics and protect unborn life. When teen Natasha discovers she is pregnant, she calls her best friend Dena to help her. Natasha’s stepfather has ordered her to get an abortion and threatened to cut the baby out himself with a steak knife if she does not comply. Instead, she and Dena run away and find themselves lost and alone on a raging, flooded Texas river. They face encounters with dangerous wildlife—and even more dangerous humans. Dena’s goal isn’t to “save Baby.” She just wants to help her vulnerable friend.

Meanwhile, Dena’s older sister Cat flees from an abusive boyfriend and is rescued by a Christian family. Nonbeliever Cat thinks the entire family is barmy. Hmmm…but she likes the look of Sky. Her goal is to separate him from his wife and children and keep him for herself.

Is there a possible happy ending in this combined dystopia?

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http://www.amazon.com/Loves-Beating-Stephanie-Parker-McKean-ebook/dp/B00CGNPG9O/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441309127&sr=8-1&keywords=love%27s+beating+heart+stephanie+parker+mckean

 

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From Texas to Scotland with Love

Imagine exchanging everything you know and love within a 24-hour period of time: going from a 100F summer to a 59F summer; exchanging Mexican food for fish and chips; switching from driving on the right side of the road to the left; leaving the safety and comfort of traffic lights and stop signs for confusing roundabouts; searching for light switches in bathrooms—because they are on the outside; getting either scalded or splashed by water because the faucets are on separate sides of the sink and the cold water is unexpectedly powerful; discovering that shower curtains are barely needed because the water only sprays within a small, weak circumference, and learning words you’ve never heard before—havering, scunnered, puddock (frog), puggled (tired out), shoogly, stushie, manky, dreich, breeks, glaekit, toerag, dauner, drookit, blether…it can happen. If you love someone enough, it can happen.

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God blessed me with a Scottish husband, Reverend Alan McKean, in 2011. That took me from sunny South USA to the cold and cloudy Scottish Highlands. It’s been quite a trip! Even after I learned that “pavement” means a pedestrian sidewalk (after getting yelled at by an irate bus driver because when he told me to get on the pavement I obediently stepped down to the asphalt in front of the bus), and even after knowing that biscuits are cookies and scones are biscuits, and words have extra letters in them (program is programme), it is still daunting at times. The cold never leaves and summer never comes. There are no dill pickles. Nestle House chocolate chips must (like dill pickles) be shipped in from the U.S. and forget ice tea; it simply doesn’t happen.

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Scotland is a lovely country with awesome scenery in every direction. The people are great. I wouldn’t want to offend them because they are convinced that no one else in the world is like a Scottish Highlander…but one reason I love them so much and feel so welcome here is that they are a bit like Texans. They don’t say “howdy,” “y’all,” “fixinto,” and ain’t, and they are too reserved to go in for hugs unless you really get to know them—but they are warm, friendly, and independent. Great folks.

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So…it had to happen. A Texas writer in Scotland? Scotland got into the books. Two of the Texas Miz Mike mystery-romance-suspense books are set in Scotland. “Bridge to Brigadoon” finds Miz Mike on a vacation on the lovely Black Isle that is neither restful nor predictable. And the newly released “Bridge Back” has Miz Mike coming back to Scotland to marry…but with the differences in language, climate, and culture—will the wedding take place? Not to mention the mystery that threatens her life.

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Funny? Gut-bustingly funny! From start to finish, “Bridge Back” is a hoot. It’s even fun for me to read…and I wrote it.

The Bible guarantees that laughter is good medicine. So if something has you down and a chuckle would lift you up, give “Bridge Back” a read.

And, thanks, y’all!

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

 

Never Lost

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I feel a blog coming on. About being lost. Not that we’re ever lost—just temporarily misplaced. Misplacement happens often.

Alan and I just returned from a mini-vacation packed with adventure. The adventure wasn’t in the vacationing, it was in adverse events and circumstances.

For example, we were scheduled to leave on Friday, but when we got the car serviced, the garage found a split tire rim. It was mid-afternoon on Monday before we were able to pack supplies into the vehicle and begin our adventure.

We were only 20 miles from home when we got lost the first time. Alan had wisely printed off map directions for reaching our destination on the Isle of Skye, Scotland. We dutifully took a left turn off the main road—as the map directed—to the first roundabout. Then we went around the roundabout again, and again, and again. None of the four roads leading off the roundabout were marked with any sort of directional signs and one of them looked like a cow trail through the countryside. We gave up on the map directions, went back to the main road, and miraculously found the next turnoff without the map.

Getting to Skye from where we live involves taking miles of one-lane roads with occasional passing lanes. Thus driving the number of required miles to our destination would have taken a little over an hour in the U.S., but took four hours. By the time we got there, it was late.

Our first stop was for food. Unfortunately, the restaurant we had enjoyed so much on our first visit was closed. Almost everything was closed. As a U.S. citizen accustomed to 24-hour restaurant service, I was irritated.

Back on the road, we followed the directions given to us by the retreat we had booked. Skye is 60 miles long with many stretches of 40 MPH speed limits and steep, winding stretches. It turns to one lane when you pass the last major village, and drivers must dodge sheep. It was getting late when we took an impossible looking 90-degree turn and vertical hill leading to the retreat—or so we hoped. However, the road we were on split and went off in two different directions, neither of which were marked. Both roads went over cattle guards, so after driving down both of them a short distance, we finally picked one and went with it. Need I mention that it was the wrong one? We figured that out when we realized that we were driving around in circles and passing the same landmarks again and again. That meant going all the way back up the road to the fork and taking the other road. It was getting late and dark and after four hours of driving, we all needed a break. All includes our 50-pound rough collie dog.

So…down the new road looking for the fourth house on the right after we got to some place that starts with a “K” that I can’t begin to either spell or pronounce. Again, we failed to find our destination. It was nearly dark by then and the road we were on was becoming so rough and the scenery so wild that we suspected we were lost yet again. We were.

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When we turned around to go back—not sure where we were going back to since we hadn’t found anything resembling our destination yet—Alan spied a sign on the door of an old building with an aluminum add-on. The retreat!

Within a few minutes of finally reaching our destination, we thought about returning home minus the “vacation.” The bedroom, an upstairs loft, had such low, slopping ceilings that Alan and I had to walk around the bed bent double, and even then we kept banging our heads, backs, and shoulders against the ceiling. Then there was the problem with the dog. The dog is no problem. She’s a dream! The problem was the slippery, narrow, steep, open staircase. Angel Joy is recovering from a nerve disorder that had made her lame. To go up steps, she must lean against a wall and crawl up. When she tried that on the slick stairs, she slid back down three steps and tumbled off the landing at the bottom. She refused to try again. So we had to put the dog on her bed and use it as a stretcher to carry her up and down the stairs. Oh…and did I mention that she weighs 50 pounds and that the stairs were steep and slick?

We toughed it out and actually had a great time except for the head-hitting and dog-carrying details. We left a day early, driving four hours through snow.

Some call Skye a place that God created just to show off. We would agree. Every scenic combination in the whole of Scotland is repeated on the island. From the only true mountain in the UK to castles—both ruined and restored—the island has it all. Even a glass bottom boat that takes visitors out to view seals, otters, and other wildlife.

Yup. We enjoyed our vacation, even the adverse bits and pieces. Life is that way. Good days and bad. The good are fun and the bad are character building—or so we’ve been told. And after this? Heaven. So we’ve got it made even if we don’t ever get back to Skye to see all the parts we missed while we were temporarily misplaced!

We never get lost.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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This Queen Serves a King

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From my memory of childhood fairy tales, kings and queens were nearly always portrayed as cruel tyrannical villains. Thus, it was heartening when poor downtrodden folks won a victory over the proud aristocrats.

This perception from childhood made it difficult for me to engage respect and appreciation for the Royal Family when I first arrived in Scotland, but childhood perceptions are often flawed.

Queen Elizabeth II is the longest reigning monarch in British history. At age 90, she still works 40 hours a week, feeds her own dogs instead of delegating the chore to someone else, and rides a horse. She attends church regularly, even while on vacation. She doesn’t use profanity.

Being a monarch does not insulate anyone from grief, problems, and trouble. The Queen called 1992 ‘Annus Horribilis.’ Tragedies for the Queen included a fire in Windsor Castle; Prince Andrew’s separation from his wife; Princess Anne’s divorcing her husband, and a biography of Diana which confirmed her unhappy marriage to Charles and resulting affair, and Charles’ affair with Camilla. Queen Elizabeth’s response was to thank people for their prayers.

The Queen celebrated Jesus’ Birthday in 2013 by stating, “It is my prayer that on this Christmas Day we might all find room in our lives for the message of the angels and for the love of God through Christ our Lord.”

The Queen noted in her Christmas 2015 address, “Despite being displaced and persecuted throughout His short life, Christ’s unchanging message was not one of revenge or violence, but simply that we should love one another.”

Example through leadership is important to Queen Elizabeth. She takes her example from Jesus, quoting: “God sent His only Son to serve, not to be served. He restored love and service to the center of our lives in the person of Jesus Christ.”

Happy 90th Birthday on April 21st to Queen Elizabeth II, a queen who serves the King.

(Thanks to Author Alan T McKean http://www.amazon.co.uk/Alan-T.-McKean/e/B00BR1PM5Y/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 for the pictures of Balmoral Castle where Queen Elizabeth stays when she’s in Scotland.)

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Year Without Fear

As we journey through 2016, it’s a good resolve to live the New Year without fear. There are 365 “fear not”s in the Bible, one for every day of the year.

When I arrived in Scotland from Texas four years ago I was told “Don’t talk about your Christian faith openly because UK folk are reserved and expect others to act with the same restraint. Advice I ignored.

Four years later I have told countless people, “God bless.” I have stopped to pray with complete strangers. I have exclaimed repeatedly, “Praise Jesus! A beautiful day!” I’ve suffered only two verbal rebukes, one from a woman who said she wished I hadn’t asked God to bless her, and one from a person who informed me, “We don’t want any of your American Fundamentalism over here.”

Had I blindly accepted the advice to keep quiet, I would have missed both blessings and opportunities to share God’s blessings with others. God has provided occasions to pray with others for healing; the healing of pets, recovery from alcoholism, rescue from depression, mending after the loss of a loved one.

Fearing what people might say or think above what God had directed would have robbed the past four years of meaning and blessing.

There are other ways to walk in God’s love. The Christian walk is a designer walk. Tell the maintenance person he or she is doing a good job. Thank the post person. Thank the folks who come to pick up the garbage. Compliment a person on his or her parenting skills. Commend a teacher for a job well done. Tell the cashier to have a lovely rest of the day. Smile. If words freeze between the brain and the lips…just smile.

Live the New Year without fear. Smile! A smile is the same in every language, easily given and almost always returned.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Life or Death?

What do you see when you look at overblown thistles? Life? Death?

I see life. The wind grasps each feathery seed and tumbles it into the air and away from the parent plant before dropping it on new ground. Not all of the wind-deposited seeds will grow into new thistles, but many will.

Prickly purple thistle became the emblem of Scotland during the reign of Alexander III (1249-1286). Norway’s King Haakon led his army in a surprise night attack in an effort to conquer the Scots. The surprise attack failed after the Norsemen removed their footwear for stealth – and stood on thistles. Their shrieks of pain alerted the Scots – who won the battle – which in turn won a victory of reverence for the prickly plants.

Death creates life. Or as the Bible states, “What you sow is not made alive unless it dies. And what you sow, you do not sow that body that shall be, but mere grain – perhaps wheat or some other grain. But God gives it a body as He pleases, and to each seed its own body…So also is the resurrection of the dead. The body is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption.” (I Corinthians 15:35-42)

Vegetation produces blooms, then seeds. The blooms must die first to turn into seeds. The seeds must die before they can be planted and burst into new life. When trees fall in the forest, they decay and enrich the soil contributing to new life. The cycle of life and death repeats endlessly with death feeding new life. The greatest example of this is the life, death, and life of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. His death on the cross brought life and eternity down to earth for all of us because he rose again from the dead. He lives! Because Jesus lives, we will live again.

We have no need to fear death. Death is an illusion. “For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality…Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? The sing of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (I Corinthians 15:53-57)

Heralded by dying leaves falling off trees and flowers dying and drying into seed, Fall can make us melancholy unless we remember that death creates new life.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Tests!

Being naive, I expected tests to end when school did. They didn’t.

Life is full of tests – and you don’t get a chance to write down the answers and change them if you decide they are wrong. You must live through your mistakes and learn from them. Thankfully, we have a study guide in the Bible when we remember to consult it and when we humble ourselves to follow the instructions.

To stay in the UK with my husband, I had to pass a “Life in the UK Test.” Some of the questions would be easy to people who grew up in the UK and are not confused by the fact that Elizabeth I was succeeded by her cousin James I of England, Wales & Ireland, but his title was James VI in Scotland. They would know that the longest distance on the mainland between John O’Groats & Land’s End is 870 miles. Me? I had to study.

Some UK residents probably don’t know some of the answers: Who was a famous Victorian engineer and what did he do? (Isambard Kingdom Brunel constructed railway bridges like the Clifton Suspension Bridge.) Who opened the first curry house in Britain; where was it and what year did it open? (Sake Dean Mahoment, 1810, London.)

What chance would there be of getting into Heaven if we had to answer questions first? What if we were ill and dying? We would be too sick to study and memorize enough answers to pass the test and make it into Heaven.

What if it took a lot of money to get to Heaven? There are people in many parts of the world who live in stick huts with no indoor plumbing, running water, furniture, or appliances. They don’t even have enough food. How would they pay?

What if it took being a champion on a sports team? How would people who are klutzy or handicapped get to Heaven?

God made entering Heaven so simple that anyone and everyone can do it. The Bible promises us that whosoever believes in Jesus will not perish but will have eternal life. John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

God loves us. He wants us to live with us forever. So He made the requirement easy; just believe in Jesus, the Son of God.

http://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Parker-McKean/e/B00BOX90OO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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