who you gonna call????

Most Christians don’t hear God’s voice because we’ve already decided
we aren’t going to do what He says.
Aiden Wilson Tozer

I had the best of intentions this morning, during fevered delirium, of writing a funny post
about honeybuns, aka formaldehyde wrapped in plastic…but my enthusiasm and energy have both waned.

Long story…my husband and I have had what we’ve figured to be the crud…
receiving said crud from time spent with a croupy Mayor.

Mine went to my sinuses, which is my typical MO…
But last night, at 3:20 AM, our home security alarm began blaring.
My husband who normally wears hearing aids, can’t hear squat without them…
not even a blaring siren…WOOOOOO WOOOOOO WOOOOOO

We have said system because my husband was in the jewelry business and we live in
the middle of nowhere on 5 acres off the road…
so call it a bit of peace of mind…or not.

So at 3:20 with a blaring alarm, I immediately jumped from the bed,
screaming at my husband that the alarm was going off as I flipped on the lights and ran
to check where the “breach” was located.

In the meantime, my husband scrambles to cut off his alarm clock because,
in his sleepy deaf state, he thinks I’m fussing because his alarm clock is going off.

I ran to the alarm pad—it read that the breach was at the windows in our closet…
the one just off our bedroom.

At that point the phone rings—it’s the alarm company.
The gal states that they have an alarm code breach coming from our home.

Naturally at 3:20 in the morning, when I’m in the middle of a possible break-in, I tend to
be a tad frantic.

My husband grabs his gun (yes he has a license and has had both hunting guns and a gun he
kept at the jewelry store. He was actually shot during an armed robbery a couple of years
before we met, so let’s just say he’s been cautious ever since.)

He proceeds to scope out the closet then walks through the house.
All the while, the girl on the phone asks “do you want me to dispatch the police?”

I practically scream to my husband “SHOULD SHE SEND THE POLICE!?”

See, I’m the kind of person who, when trouble comes calling,
I want the cavalry to come running.
But what with all this defund the police crap, it’s like Charles Barkley said,
“who you gonna call, Ghostbusters???”

But my husband said no…he thinks it was just glitchy wires.
Glitchy wires??!!
And yet I will say that Percy the cat was still nestled in his bed…
had someone been in the house, Percy would have been the first to hide.

We got back into bed and my husband falls readily to sleep.
Who does that?
I, on the other hand, lay there in the dark…listening.
Waiting for a chainsaw massacre psycho to come busting into our bedroom.
Like a little kid, I feel safer if I bury myself in the covers…like
no one can tell I’m in the bed…
eye-rolling obviously.

I keep listening.

Was someone outside?
Were they going to try another window or door?
The dark has a bad way of playing with our fears.
I pray while my ears play tricks on me.

Suddenly, I notice how very cold I am, and how achy I feel.
Great, I was running a fever.
I never run a fever unless it’s serious.

I laid there until daylight.
Balled up in a shivering clump hidden under the covers…just
waiting for daylight to know I was safe…sick, but safe.

At daybreak, I stutter from under the covers, “I think I’m dying.”
“What? says my deaf husband.
I ask my husband if he could please go get me the thermometer…
“And please make certain it’s ours and not the rectal one for the kids!!!”
I didn’t have on my glasses so I took my chances.

101.4

My husband showers and goes to make coffee…forgetting to feed the cats…
Who both proceed to jump on and off the bed until I stumble from bed, feeling like death,
in order to feed them.
He complains I never let him help enough around the house and yet the one morning of
death and dying, when his help would have been so greatly appreciated,
…well, he was sitting in his chair with his warm cup of coffee…
oblivious to 8 legs of bedlam.

I ask him rather indignantly why did he not feed the cats…
“I never saw them” he lazily responds.
“That’s because they were jumping all over me!!!”
Sigh…

I call the ENT’s office at 8.
Telling them of my ailments but would I need a COVID test first?
Oh no, the nurse tells me, we’ll do that here.

Oooo, a one-stop-shop—great!

Long story short…
I had a strep test, a flu test, and a COVID test.
While we waited on those tests to process, they took x-rays…“well you definitely have
a sinus infection” the PA tells me—
and then blessedly the other tests came back negative.
YAY, I guess, because she said there are both false negatives and false positives…
And I still felt like crap.

Two shots and a prescription later…we still wonder.

And so now when you think you might have a cold, flu, virus…what was once simple and ordinary…
well, it is not so ordinary anymore…rather it is now very complicated.

How could I have gotten it?
I wear my mask at the grocery store…I really don’t go to many other places.

And then it hit me.

My husband’s hunting buddy jokingly handed me a honeybun the other day as my
birthday gift.
He knows I hate those things.
I think they could survive a nuclear bomb.
My dad loved them.
My husband’s buddy thought it was an appropriate and funny gift.
And yet I actually got him something nice and real.

And then two days later, this friend calls to tell us his wife, daughter, son in law, and two little
grandkids have tested positive.

And then it dawns on me…
It was the handoff of the honey bun!

So I’m to the point now that no one seems to know which is what.
Gather, don’t gather…mask, don’t mask…Thanksgiving, no Thanksgiving, false positives,
false negatives…vaccines, no vaccines

So maybe Charles is right…who ya gonna call??? Ghostbusters…??

Nahhh…

My Refuge and My Fortress
Psalm 91

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked.
Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—
the Most High, who is my refuge
no evil shall be allowed to befall you,
no plague come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
lest you strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the adder;
the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.
“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”

itchy ears, a small diversion…

For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine.
Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers
to say what their itching ears want to hear.
2 Timothy 4:3

(Naked security)

Today is a slight diversion from our week’s train of thought but the heart of the matter,
in the end, remains very much on track.

So an odd thing happened this afternoon when I out was watering the plants.
I say that it was an odd thing but it was actually more like a sheer panic sort of thing…

There I was, in the sweltering sun, minding my own business as I mindlessly watered my plants…
Suddenly, out of nowhere, some sort of flying creature flew up from a bush—
it hit my glasses and next, how I have not a clue but, it ricocheted into my left ear.

Yep, you read correctly, right into my ear.

Well, I instinctively thought that it would fly right back out as bugs tend to fly in
and out and all around this time of year but this bug was in my ear and it
did not immediately exit.

I’ve heard of these sorts of things happening before to other people but in my actual
real life…surely not.
Yet happen it did and I thought I would die.

Die from panic mind you and not so much because of the bug,

So to put it mildly, I confess that I began to freak out as I could feel
vibrations deep in my head.

AGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH, I screamed like a banshee as I dropped the
running hose and ran like a crazy woman into the house.

I was screaming so frantically that my husband came running expecting to see a severed appendage.

I stammered something about the bug as I raced passed him,
running straight into the bathroom.
I grabbed a Q-Tip while my husband tried to stop me…
I shoved that thing into my ear hoping to pull out the bug.

Since that didn’t work, and if the truth be told, I probably pushed that sucker deeper
into my head, I could still felt vibrations.
Next, I grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and proceeded to turn the bottle up,
pouring it into my ear.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! screamed my poor husband???
“KILLING THE BUG” I screamed in response…praying it would now “wash” out of my ear
while alcohol ran down my face and neck.

Yet there was nothing.

“THE ER”, I screamed, “WE’VE GOT TO GO TO THE ER!!!!!”

But suddenly the thought of the pandemic swirling around the hospital,
calmed my brain long enough for me to think of my ENT…
the Ear Nose and Throat doctor…
Call the ENT the small voice in my head calmly said.
And no, it was not the voice of the bug.

Frantic, I grabbed my phone and put it up to my bugged ear.

When the gal at the doctor’s office answered, I practically screamed into the phone…
“A BUG FLEW IN MY EAR AND IS STILL THERE!!!

“How fast can you get here?” she asked.
“5 minutes” I responded.

I had hoped the alcohol had drowned the bug but I could still feel fluttering
from time to time.

My husband told me he’d drive as he feared I’d wreck if I drove.

I practically jumped out of his truck, running into the building.
It was right at 4 PM and they were about to close for the holiday weekend.

The nurse came to the door and called me back—
I was still in my ‘work in the yard’ clothes and I was holding a mask that I’d thought to
grab if they said I needed to wear one.

But with a bug literally in my ear, masks were the last thing on my mind.

When the doctor came in, I screamed
“YOU’VE GOT TO GET THIS THING OUT OF MY EAR, NOW!!!!”

He proceeds to look in my good ear while I explained what happened.

I told him about the Q-Tip.

“Ahh, a stick of Satan…”
“Huh???”
“Do you like Satan?”
“Of course not!”
Then DON’T USE Q-Tips!!

I’d always heard ear doctors didn’t like Q-Tips.

“Do my ears look bad???” I stammered, worried I’d done something terrible by cleaning my ears.
“No, they’re clean as a whistle but if you had a little ear wax, that bug probably wouldn’t
have gone on in.”

Oh…

He takes the light and shines it into my left ear.

“Yep, there’s the little sucker alright.”
Can you get it???” I wail…
“Tilt your head as I don’t think we need the scope.”

Two seconds in and out with the long tweezers and he had the bug.

“Well, I’ll be, that looks to be a baby lightning bug” he triumphantly announces
as he shows off his catch.

“Great,” I thought, my head could have blinked all night.

$45 and 10 minutes later I was out the door.
Flutter free.

And so yes, after this terrible episode was over, the verse about itchy ears came racing
to the forefront of my thoughts.

And that verse is exceedingly applicable given this past week’s musings.
Our entire culture is scratching at their itchy ears…
and only yearning for more…and so I offer an interesting article regarding
this problem with our itching ears…minus the bugs mind you…

Got Questions–Your Questions. Biblical Answers. explains this verse further:

The apostle Paul wrote a warning for the church:
“The time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine.
Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them
a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear”
(2 Timothy 4:3).

The Greek word translated “itching” literally means
“to itch, rub, scratch, or tickle.” To want one’s ears “tickled” is to desire massages
rather than messages—sermons that charm rather than challenge,
entertain rather than edify, and please rather than preach.
The people Paul warns about will have, as one commentator put it,
“ears which have to be continually titillated with novelties.”

“Itching ears” is a figure of speech that refers to people’s desires,
felt needs, or wants.
It is these desires that impel a person to believe whatever he wants to believe rather
than the actual truth itself. When people have “itching ears,”
they decide for themselves what is right or wrong,
and they seek out others to support their notions.
“Itching ears” are concerned with what feels good or comfortable,
not with the truth—after all, truth is often uncomfortable.
Paul’s warning is that the church would one day contain those who only
opened their ears to those who would scratch their “itch.”

Those with “itching ears” only want teachers who will assure them that all is well,
teachers who say, “Peace, peace . . . when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14).
Where there is a demand for something, the suppliers are not far away.
Paul says that not only will there be great demand for watered-down,
personalized messages, but there will be “a great number of teachers”
willing to provide such pap and steer people away from “sound doctrine.”

Evidence today of people having “itching ears” includes the popularity
of messages that people are not required to change, as if repentance were outmoded;
that people are basically good; that God is too loving to judge anyone;
that the cross, with all its blood, is not really necessary;
and that God wants His children to be healthy, wealthy,
and content in this world. As people turn their backs on the truth about sin and condemnation,
they disregard their need for repentance and forgiveness. And a craving for
“new” and “fresher” ideas grows—even though there is “nothing new under the sun”
(Ecclesiastes 1:9–10)—
accompanied by a longing to feel good about who they are and where they’re going.
Messages that tickle ears can fill a lot of churches, sell a lot of books,
and buy a lot of time on cable tv.

Some of the early followers of Jesus complained about some of the Lord’s words:
“Many of his disciples said, ʻThis is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?’…
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him”
(John 6:60, 66). Walking away from hard truth is easy to do.

In today’s postmodern church, we see many walking away from the hard truth.
Some churches that once preached sound doctrine now teach as acceptable
the very evils the Bible condemns.
Some pastors are afraid to preach on certain passages of the Bible.
“Christian feminists” deny God as a heavenly Father, calling Him a “she.”
“Gay Christians” are not only welcomed without repentance into
church fellowship but into the pulpit, as well.

The church’s remedy for those who have “itching ears”
is found in the same passage of 2 Timothy: “Preach the word;
be prepared in season and out of season; correct,
rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction” (2 Timothy 4:2).
It is a solemn charge, made “in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus,
who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom”
(verse 1).
And it contains all the elements needed to combat the temptation to tickle ears:
preach, correct, rebuke, and encourage. The content of preaching must be the written
Word of God, and it must be preached when convenient and when inconvenient.
This takes “great patience and careful instruction,” but sound doctrine is worth it.

The church’s quest to manage the comfort level of its audience must never take priority
over preaching the Word. The fear of offending people’s sensibilities can never supersede
the fear of offending God. Rather, the church should follow the example of the apostles:
“We have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception,
nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary,
by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man’s conscience
in the sight of God” (2 Corinthians 4:2).

The church today, more than ever, needs to re-examine the teachings it endorses.
We need to ask ourselves the following questions:

• Are our teachings truly from God or simply itches we want to scratch?
• Are we standing on solid biblical grounds, or have we allowed the world to influence our thinking?
• Have we guarded ourselves from the schemes of Satan (Ephesians 6:11)?
• Are we keeping ourselves “blameless for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ”
(1 Thessalonians 5:23)?

The truth is, God is not concerned with scratching our itches but in transforming
us into the image of His Son (Romans 12:2; 2 Corinthians 4:4).

ode to a fig

“To eat figs off the tree in the very early morning,
when they have been barely touched by the sun, is one of the exquisite
pleasures of the Mediterranean.”
Elizabeth David

(this past summer’s plucking–a fig resting on a bed of fresh herbs / Julie Cook / 2017)

There’s eating figs, figs stuffed with blue cheese, fig preserves
and then there’s “giving the fig”….
I liken the latter to our shooting of birds….but this is not about that

But according to Wikipedia, to give someone the fig means:
The fig sign is a mildly obscene gesture used in Turkish and Slavic cultures
and some other cultures that uses two fingers and a thumb.
This gesture is most commonly used to deny a request.

In Brazil, use of this gesture wards off evil eye, jealousy, etc.
Often worn as a good luck charm.

In ancient Rome, the fig sign, or mano fico, was made by the pater familias
to ward off the evil spirits of the dead as a part of the Lemuria ritual.

The hand gesture may have originated in ancient Hindu culture to depict
the lingam and yoni.

Among early Christians, it was known as the manus obscena, or “obscene hand”.

Recently, a Ukrainian word for this gesture “дуля” (dulya) has also become
a jargon to refer to Control-Alt-Delete. (“…you need three fingers to
press the buttons. So it’s like telling somebody (a computer in this case)
to get lost.”)

So you should know that this little tale is not exactly a story about
offending gestures—
yet the notion of a fig, even cursing a fig, does play a dominate role…..

This morning when I left the house at 9AM, headed back to my dentist—
I had a full set of teeth.
Well actually I am minus one back upper right molar that was pulled
years ago due to it causing chronic sinus problems—-and as I was born without
wisdom teeth, other than that, I’ve had a nice head full of teeth.

About 4 weeks ago one morning, I had grabbed a couple of fig newtons to act
as my breakfast of champions.
Whereas I’m not keen on eating fresh figs, I do did enjoy Fig Newtons—-you know,
that whole debate of is it a cookie or a cake—-
potato, potaaato sort of thing.

When I took a bite of one of the Newtons, I bit down on something chunky and
hard—it wasn’t one of those pesky tiny seeds but rather a piece of stem.
And when I did, I immediately felt as if I’d broken my tooth.
I raced to the bathroom grabbing a mirror for a closer inspection.

Nope, the tooth was intact and looked ok.
Even the filling was still intact.
Whew…..

Yet there remained a nagging pain.
I figured I’d probably just bruised the area around the tooth.

I have had several teeth with root canals and crowns but this was still an active
tooth that happened to have a filling.

And as you may remember I am adopted.
I learned a few years back that my biological mother,
despite being a nurse, hid the pregnancy as long as possible.
No prenatal care there.

Of course this was the 1950’s and she was not married and that is a long story
for another day…but I was born premature.

Years later our family dentist explained to both me and my (adopted) mom
that in utero, my teeth had not properly fused—-leaving them prone to cavities,
and even cracking, etc.
Thus I have have treasured my teeth, working hard and being fastidious
in their care—-yet…..

The next day following the stem incident, there was a good deal of pain
when I drank anything hot or cold….as in sensitivity.

“Crap” I groused cause I knew what that would entail.
I called the dentist.
I went in and she did an X-ray.
“Nope Julie, I don’t see any cracks…it’s probably just really bruised.”

Whew—a dodged bullet!

Another week passed and still the sensitivity persisted.

Another anomaly fact about me is that many of the roots of my teeth run up into
my sinus cavity. Hence may age old conundrum—-
is it the sinuses infected or is it the teeth being aggravating??
I’ve had two sinus surgeries, with one having done wonders, the other not so much…
so my doctors and dentists pretty much roll their eyes when they see me coming…
as in here comes the oddity—-they would deny that but I know better…

So a week later I went back to the dentist who did another X-ray.
This dentist didn’t see a crack but wanted me to go see an endodontist.
This particular endodontist has seen me before, having done a couple of root canals.

He x-rayed as well but didn’t see much within the tooth, but the sinus cavity
on the other hand showed a cloudiness, indicating infection or swelling.
He did the cold test which definitely caused pain.
He removed the old filling and found the interior of the tooth to be what
he called inflamed.
How the inside of a tooth is inflamed I’m not sure, but I believed him.

This was Thursday before Christmas.
He did a root canal right then and there and sent me off with an antibiotic
and pain pills with an appointment to come back in January to have the
tooth permanently sealed.

Well I still felt terrible.

So the day following Christmas, I was in the ENT’s office.
He x-rayed my head, saw inflammation and changed the antibiotic to something
stronger plus gave me a shot.

The following day I was feeling better and found I could actually chew
without pain.

Ahhhh…..

Fast forward to this Thursday night— I had roasted a nice turkey breast.
I lay bacon over the breast to help keep it moist and self basting as it cooks.
Once the turkey was done, I took it out to allow it to “rest”
Roasted things need time to rest so their juice fill back up keeping the meat
nice and moist.

And as I happen to adore bacon, I grabbed one of the pieces and took a bite.
I tend to chew on my left side where the culprit tooth is located.
Not a wise choice.
Biting into the bacon, I immediately felt as if something had pieced my gum,
then all of a sudden out came a part of my tooth….

AGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Again I race to the bathroom for a mirror….what to my wandering eyes did appear—
the culprit tooth spilt totally in half…

AGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

The interior split half was piecing into the gum in the roof of my mouth.

I called the endodontist.
He calls my dentist.
The plan, be ready by 7AM to be seen by the one or the other.

I get a text the following morning at 6:30AM—be at dentist at 9AM

The dentist is here in town.
The endodontist is in a neighboring town about 20 minutes away.

The dentist takes one look at the split tooth and tells me that since it is Friday
and their office closes early, as well as the local oral surgeon’s office—he opts
to send me to another town, about 30 minutes away, to a different oral surgeon
who he knows works all day on Fridays.

Post haste I drive.

Long story short….3 shots in the roof of the mouth, one on the other side….
a lot of pulling, twisting, and odd noises emanating from my head,
while someone is holding my head and another is suctioning
tooth bits, all the while my eyes are tightly shut as I keep saying the
Jesus Prayer over and over and over…
then just as quickly, #13, what they call a pre molar, is gone.

Replaced by a wad of gauze….and later a tea bag whose tannin helps
to control bleeding, or so they say.

My husband was a bit taken aback when he walked in the door this evening only
to be greeted by a wife with a wet tea bag stuffed in her mouth complete with
both tag and string blowing in the wind.
Tetley tea anyone…..

And you should know that if I was telling you this tale in person–
the word tooth would sound like ‘poof’ as in the novocaine and cheek full of
gauze are doing a number on my speech….
did I mention the uncontrollable drool???

Following the pulling of the tooth, the oral surgeon did a bone graft as we will be
going the route of an implant…much as I hope that it will work but just
as much to my chagrin.
My husband has had an implant—it was a year long process and a small fortune.

So the moral of this long and wending tale,
besides the fact that I now have a hole in my head, copious amounts of drool,
and tea bags stuffed in my face….

Always be careful when opting to give any one the fig and be even more careful
when biting down on a Fig Newton!!!
You never know what might bite back..

And oh…be good to your teeth!

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you,
whom you have received from God?
You are not your own;
you were bought at a price.
Therefore honor God with your bodies.
1 Corinthians 6:19-20