I Can’t See the Wind (Spring at last)

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Mar 4th, 2010

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Greetings Dear Blog-Nog Friends on this gusty March Day,

There’s an old saying, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.”  It speaks, of course, of the strong winds that usher in the gusty days of March.  To our family, it was kite-flying time!  And what great fun that was!

There is a playful phrase of Scripture in Psalms 18:10 which always makes me smile. “…yea, He (The Lord) did fly upon the wings of the wind.”  Imagine that!  What a delightful picture of our Almighty, Creator God enjoying His creation.

Since the creation of flight was God’s idea in the first place, when He filled the air with “every winged fowl after its kind:” (Genesis 1:21).  What a provocative sight their flight must have been to Adam, the first man on earth.  (Note that Adam, God’s masterpiece, was created after the rest of creation was complete.)  He opened his eyes to immediately see the infinite genius of God’s wisdom that lay before him: the breathtaking panorama of an earth filled with wonders, beauty and life.

Then God said, “Have dominion over it all, Adam.”  What a gift!  What possibilities!  And is it possible the thought of flying flickered across Adam’s mind as he watched the first eagle fly across the sky?

That thought, aided by our inventive human curiosity and imagination, did more than flicker across the minds of the two French brothers, Joseph and Jacques-Étienne Montgolfier.  They were the inventors of the “montgolfière” style hot air balloon. After several years of trial and error, on September 19, 1783 they successfully launched a hot air balloon carrying living creatures in a basket: a sheep, a duck and a rooster.  (the Christian Mother Goose balloon would follow 200 years later – honestly!)  Read on for that story, after this companion Christian Mother Goose rhyme:

From the very first Christian Mother Goose Book published in 1978, our long-time readers know the part a hot air balloon plays throughout the book series.  It began as just an illustration in Volume 1, but then became the real thing in 1982.

At that time, I was writing a script for the video production of “A Day at Dandelion Sea” – a Christian Mother Goose musical.  The hot air balloon was essential to the script.  So, a beautiful, rainbow Raven RX7 balloon (including its own aircraft number N57225) joined our family.  And, like children, what adventures it brought with it!

First of all, our son, Kevin, went off to flight school to become a hot air balloon pilot.  His mission?  To navigate his mother, (Christian Mother Goose) safely through the skies in a wicker basket!  Whew!  (And not only once!)

After graduating, Kevin returned home a certified balloon pilot – and we planned the day for our first test flight.

That day, as I actually stood in that small wicker basket, with my destination the blue sky above, I said, “Oh, Lord, what we do for the Gospel’s sake!”

Right then, a roar from the burners above the basket, shot two 16-foot towers of flames into the balloon.  Lift off!  The 76,000 cubic feet of hot air briskly whisked us up to an altitude of 9,000 feet, soaring through the Colorado Rockies!

Kevin frequently checked four instruments: a pyrometer for heat, an altimeter for height, a variometer to check ascent and descent, and a transponder for radio communication with the chase crew (following us in the balloon van).  These modern necessities added a modern flair to the ancient art of wicker baskets.  And ancient they are, indeed.  Even the patriarch, Moses, began his career floating in a bulrush wicker basket – and look how far he went!

As we floated along, marveling at the fabulous aerial views, Kevin explained to me the physical dynamics of ballooning (wind, contained air, heat, lift and power); bringing us to an interesting conversation of how those dynamics reminded us of the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

The wrinkled fabric of the balloon itself (rightly termed the “envelope”) has no power.  When collapsed, it fits into a bag about the size of a wheelbarrow.  But filled with hot air, it rises to become a 70-foot high “light bulb” of beauty and power.

The Lord Jesus said in Acts 1:8, “But ye shall receive power after that the Holy Spirit is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me…unto the uttermost part of the earth.”  The Holy Spirit breathes the life and power of Christ into the humble fabric of earthlings; smoothing out the wrinkles of our lives, lifting us up to His “blessings in Heavenly places.”  Oh, so many Scriptural illustrations, all from a balloon flight.

The montgolfière balloon’s first flight by humans, landed between windmills near Paris.  The Christian Mother Goose balloon’s first flight landed in a corn field near Western Colorado’s rural town of Fruita.

Our balloon van chase crew team of Dale, Bradley, Keith, and three friends, was racing through the country roads to assist in securing the stability of our landed balloon.  There are “soft” and “hard” landings, depending on the wind of the moment.  An errant wind dragged ours into the “very hard” category, needing many helping hands.  While Kevin was shutting down valves and wrestling other components, the basket tipped at a 60 degree angle; I tipped too, at the same angle, praying for the chase crew’s arrival…”a-tisket, a-tasket, please come and find our basket!”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, three sets of hands appeared, grabbing the tether ropes and slowing down our drag.  I was able to straighten up and heard two voices loudly asking the Lord for help.  The other voice was obviously tipsy (perhaps enjoying his corn in some liquid form?).  But, nevertheless, he hung on to the rope in grand style, shouting out strong “Amens” to the others’ prayers.  Hurrah!  The chase crew arrived, and nine souls mastered a victorious take-down!

Of course, there was a picnic basket of supper for everyone to celebrate our first flight.  The “praying hands” man-and-wife couple turned out to be evangelists, and the “corn” man was a kind soul who helped us.  He seemed to thoroughly enjoy the happy crowd and our grateful thanks.

So, although we never went to the “uttermost part of the earth,” as Jesus said, we did leave a witness for Him in the cornfield, where the “corn” man truly appeared to have “ears to hear.”

Perhaps I’ll mention other balloon adventures in future blogs.  In the meantime, I leave you with these wonderful words of promise:  “Now the God of hope fill you with all joy in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”  (Romans 15:13)

Cheerio, for now –  and Up, Up and Away – with Heavenly Blessings for All!

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please click on this link:

There Was a Crooked Man (The Great Exchange)

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Feb 22nd, 2010

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Hello Dear Blog-Nog Friends,

After seeing a television news clip the other day, showing the New York Stock Exchange bedlam, I marveled at all the antics of grown men frantically exchanging – what?

I wondered what these stock traders were like as little boys.  Were they the ones who could persuade the exchange of a proven “shootercat’s eye marble for a baseball card of dubious value?  And then I thought of some of the exchanges our own boys came up with in their grade school years.

Yes, while raising our four boys, my husband Dale and I sometimes saw the making of miniature New York Stock Exchange brokers going on in our own home.  For example, even though we didn’t have a White House Lincoln bedroom, we discovered our seven-year-old was charging his little friends a nickel for an overnight stay at our house!

However, we also found he would sometimes play the generous host and buy his guest a nickel packet of five baseball collector cards (with a piece of gum included) at the local grocery store.  As it turned out, there was more than a nickel’s worth of exchange value in some of those baseball card packets that our boys collected.  A coveted “Mickey Mantle” card popped up, which eventually became worth 500 dollars! (In fact, some mint condition Mickey Mantle rookie cards can sell for as much as $20,000 now).

But we also saw our boys come home from school with sad faces for having exchanged a treasured buffalo nickel or Indian head penny for a tasty morsel. (It seems the Old Testament Esau/Jacob lopsided exchange syndrome lives on!)

In all phases of our society, we earthlings are involved every day in some kind of exchange.

If anyone was in need of a great exchange, it must have been the Crooked Man in the old rhyme of 1842 A.D.  His whole world was crooked.  Let alone being a crooked man, his daily walk was crooked, his sixpence was crooked, his house was crooked, and even the cat that he bought was crooked; which begs the question, “Was the salesman crooked to sell him a crooked cat?”

This much I do know: a crooked salesman did sell me a crooked goose!  Honest!  Actually, he sold us three geese.  He stopped at our house with this wonderful goose solution to all the mowing activity he saw going on each week on our acreage.  We had twenty acres for our four boys to grow up on, doing everything boys love to do, but they also had to help mow the three acres of lawn around the house.  Bradley, age twelve then, was in charge of the riding mower and very suspicious that three geese could match his lawn mowing expertise.

Not to worry, though.  The salesman painted a glowing picture of an im”peck”able lawn, manicured by three graceful geese, ever-munching (thus mowing) to keep our grass beautiful.  Their feathers could even be dyed to resemble flamingos!” he suggested.  Wow!  Our imagination was captured instantly, and our payment was captured in quick advance by the salesman who promised to drop the geese off later that day.

And drop them off he did – literally, as we watched from our dinner table, 100 yards away – and then watched his van racing toward the mountains.  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of three rowdy, ungainly geese, loudly honking their raucous racket of territorial claim over our three acres of lawn.

I dubbed them Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.  Abednego was the “crooked” goose who seemed to have a swivel in his back, so that half of him flipped one way while the rest of him went another way.  Mayhem had come, in all its fowl fury, to our happy homestead.

Days went by, with the rowdy squatters establishing their land grab by their squawking and careless bathroom habits, which made it a high risk to dare sit down on our own lawn.  All of this drove our boys to occupy the thick underbrush of the top ten acres for their boyhood adventures, away from the eyes of their parents.  Yes! Shadrach, Mesach and Abednego had to go, and roast goose was added to the “Decker Restaurant” menu for the following week.

The answer was a nice, new Baptist minister in our small town who, we heard from his pianist, used to be a butcher.  So off we went to town to enlist his help in the cause of common Christian rescue.  Our proposal was half of three geese for his oven-ready butchering skills.  One goose each, and Abednego’s swivel back would nicely accommodate a top half for the minister and a bottom half for us.

As roast goose was a favorite of the new minister, he was delighted to gather his butchering tools and follow Dale and me home.  As we entered our gate, a recently-unfamiliar silence greeted us.  Then, carefully avoiding the messy lawn, Bradley and Kevin raced down the path shouting, “The geese ran away, they’re heading north!” (Keep in mind that word “north” for the surprise ending in another blog.)

How did they know the day of reckoning had come?  Somehow, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego of old, they had escaped their version of the fiery furnace. The good news was that, in due time, the Decker family could sit down on our own lawn again – once again proudly mowed by son Bradley and Co.

So, we return to the Crooked Man, and all that our loving God offers this crooked, yet precious world in the Greatest Exchange of the Ages: The Gift of His Son, The Lord Jesus Christ, in exchange for all the disappointment and failure that are wrapped up in the word “sin.”

In Mark 8:37, Jesus said, “What shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” The currency of heaven is not the dollar, the euro, the yen or the lira.  Christ has paid the ultimate price.  Unlike the New York Stock Exchange, God’s economy is the power of His redeeming love and grace.  The only exchange we can offer is to receive by faith His priceless Gift.

Read these amazing words in II Corinthians 5:21 – “For He (God) hath made Him (Jesus), Who knew no sin, to be made sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.” What an amazing exchange! The unsearchable riches of God’s love exchanged for our trust in the Christ of Calvary! – The Greatest Exchange of all!

Thank you for your reader-friendship,

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please click on this link:

Three Kind Mice

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Feb 14th, 2010

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Happy Valentine’s Greetings Dear Blog-Nog Friends,

One of the best-known singing roundelays in the world is “Three Blind Mice.”  In spite of the lopping off of their tails by the farmer’s wife, four centuries of time and tradition have securely claimed it as a playful rhyme for little children.

Many years ago, Christian Mother Goose surprised the publishing world by introducing another set of mice with happier “tales.”

Kindness is a beautiful reflection of God’s goodness.  And it’s a heart-warming thing to see kindness at work, especially in children.  I remember an incident in a shopping mall where a small boy stood longingly at the ice cream counter, hoping eleven cents could buy something.  But he couldn’t match the menu’s cost.  Then a bigger boy stepped out of the waiting customers and said, “Order whatever you like, I’m buying.”  Surprise and delight rippled throughout the whole area.  Kindness won the day!

It is the goodness and kindness of God towards us that, while we penniless earthlings have nothing with which to purchase His righteousness, God steps up to the Cross of Christ and says to the world, “I’m buying And the sin account is paid in full by the redeeming blood of My Son.”

As Titus 3:4-6 records: “But after the kindness and love of God our Savior toward man appeared, Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Spirit; which He shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior.”  Praise God, His love for us shines brightly against the background of our helplessness.

Christian history is a favorite subject of mine.  I marvel at the valiant, sacrificial and inspiring lives of God’s people throughout the ages.  Many years ago, I was astonished to find an attempt to link the Christian martyrs – Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer behind the origin of “Three Blind Mice.”  It was in 1555 A.D. that the three distinguished and devoted Cambridge clergymen were burned at the stake for standing for the truth of the Gospel of Christ versus man-made tradition.

The last words of Hugh Latimer to Nicholas Ridley have lodged in my heart ever since I read them forty years ago.  With the two Christians chained together, and as the flames arose, Hugh Latimer said, “Be of good comfort, Mr. Ridley, and play the man; we shall this day light such a candle by God’s grace in England, as I trust never shall be put out.”

In 1611 A.D. (two years after the publication of the original “Three Blind Mice”) the King James Version of the first Bible in the English language arose like a giant candle across the green fields and cottages of England.  The candle was lit!

In our journey as curious earthlings, tradition can be a very tenacious thing.  In fact, at one time (shortly after the original Christian Mother Goose Book was published), I was challenged by a writer in a major magazine.  She chastised me throughout two pages, ending with: “These old rhymes belong to children exactly as they were written.  They have been worn smooth and lovely by a thousand tellings.”  I hardly think that a thousand tellings can convince those three blind mice that their tail-less existence was “smooth and lovely.”

Nevertheless, tradition has enshrined “Three Blind Mice” with unchallenged acceptance as a playful children’s nursery rhyme since it appeared in the 1609 A.D. publication of “Pleasant Roundelays.”  But I often think of what my dear husband, Dale, said regarding the minds of children: “We would never intentionally bruise the limbs of our children, neither should we carelessly bruise their minds.”

And this is why I responded to the magazine article with a rather humorous rebuttal titled, “Take Another Gander at Christian Mother Goose.”

Tradition can be founded in wonder, joy, solemnity, mystery or one of many other origins that survive the passing of time.  An incident that happened over twenty years ago made my family laugh at how easily I unwittingly started a “tradition.”  We were having dinner in a hotel dining room.  I was seated facing an arrangement of palms and flowers that was quite lovely – except for one thing.  Staring forlornly back at me was a rather bare bust statue of a woman – perhaps the decorator thought she might represent Eve in the Garden of Eden.  But I’m sure even Eve would have appreciated some modesty in the hotel’s bustling dining room.

I happened to be wearing a gold lace scarf that evening, so with all good intentions, I walked over to the forlorn lady, draped the scarf artistically around her, saved her dignity and went back to enjoy my meal.  In the midst of a gripping conversation, we left the hotel and drove away, totally forgetting the scarf.

Years later, we stopped at the same hotel for lunch.  To my surprise, the statue lady was still wearing my lace scarf!  I asked the hostess about it.  She explained it was part of the statue’s presentation, and they were careful, when dusting, to arrange the scarf exactly the way it came with the statue.  I just smiled at the new authority of tradition now imbued in my scarf and left it there for posterity.  After all, dare I argue with tradition?

The Biblical record of Mark chapter 7, illustrates a telling lesson by The Lord Jesus on misplaced tradition – placing spiritual value on mere man-made traditions.  The chapter records that certain Pharisees and scribes had come from Jerusalem to Galilee, where The Lord Jesus was performing mighty miracles of healing.

Disregarding the loving compassion of Jesus for the multitudes, they had walked over eighty miles to complain to Him about His disciples not keeping the religious tradition of washing their hands before eating.  That’s good hygiene, but no replacement for our personal acceptance by God through the cleansing, redeeming blood of Christ Jesus.

To those Pharisees, Jesus said: “You make the word of God of no effect through your tradition.”  And coming from The Living Word Himself, perhaps it’s time to sift and sort some traditions we, too, may have mixed in with our own brand of Christianity.

I remember a dear old saint telling me, “Faith is only as great as the object upon which it is focused.  If it’s focused on a rabbit’s foot, there is no power there – nothing!  If your faith is focused on the Lord God Almighty…then all things are possible with Him!”

Jesus stated emphatically in Mark 11:22-23, “Have faith in God. For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, ‘Be thou removed, and be cast into the sea;’ and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass, he shall have whatsoever he saith.”  So why tinker with powerless tradition if we have a personal Mount Everest to move?

God grant us wisdom to keep our man-made traditions where they belong: in the realm of noble, special, and even sacred memories – and those things that are “lovely and of good report.”

Considering my lifetime interest and research into “Old Mother Goose,” coupled with my lifetime pilgrimage with Jesus and God’s Word, I will just say that Old Mother Goose was in desperate need of coming to The Lord Jesus to be born again.  And that is exactly what happened to her in my bathtub over thirty years ago, when I began to write her bright new message.

Today, I’m thrilled to know that many of our reader friends have been raised on the Good News of the Gospel as conveyed in Christian Mother Goose – and many continue sharing those rhymes and stories with future generations.

God bless the kindnesses you do, both large and small.  THANK YOU for sharing the mission of Christian Mother Goose, and lighting a candle.

Love,

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please click on this link:

A Robin and A Robin’s Son (The Crow’s Super Bowl)

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Jan 31st, 2010

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Hello Again Blog-Nog Friends,

This weekend the Decker boys (now grown-up men) have been regaling me with their statistics and prognosis of that annual, All-American Gladiator conflict known as the Super Bowl.

And take sides we must!  No time for indecision as to which team to cheer for!  Which brings us to the old rhyme about agreement and indecision:

What a waste of time and pleasure lack of agreement and indecision levies on us.  The robins made the journey to town twice.  The first time worrying and fretting all the way over whether to choose a plum or plain bun.

What a picture of this earth – full of doubting, undecided earthlings.  Even the daily life of little creatures presents the same dilemma.  No wonder the Scripture records in Joel 3:14, “Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision.…”

And where else can you find a more passionate vocal example of “plum or plain” than the opposing sides of a packed American football stadium, especially at Super Bowl time.

I say “American football” because in England football is what Americans call soccer.

This man-made sporting fever for football must be catching, as Kevin and I have just observed what we called the “Crows’ Super Bowl,” – a frolicking contest Kevin and I witnessed from our bay-window kitchen table.

It all began when I tossed out some left-over organic tortilla shells on our back lawn.  They were the big ten-inch size, baked crisp, the sight of which threw the early morning breakfast crow-crowd into a state of shock and awe – somewhat like a football team sizing up a bigger adversary.  Our local crow families swooped in from the southwest and northeast.  They appeared within seconds of our putting out food, although they came from far across the adjacent fields.

In over ten years, we’ve never seen them fight over food.  I’ve read where crows are considered the most intelligent of birds and have a well developed social structure – they can count to at least three or four, learn new information quickly, and communicate using a  complex languagePopped popcorn is a great favorite with our crows.  It’s hilarious to watch them fill up until they have a small popcorn ball on the end of their beaks, prepare for lift-off over the fence, and then cross the fields to what we assume is their Crow Movie Theater.

The tortilla menu turned out to be no fast-food visit.  The crows tentatively surveyed one tortilla with much apprehension, not sure just how to approach the giant “buffet” in front of them.  Then one brave fellow stepped on it with his foot, causing the big round giant to flip, which sent all the crows jumping backwards in fright.  “Still…we came to eat; and this has been the right fly-in cafe for over ten years.  What are we supposed to do with this over-sized entree?” (We could well-imagine the crows’ conversation.)

While the crows stood in indecision, evaluating the round UFO (Unidentified Flour Object), Mr. Squirrel, who lives in a nearby tree, leaped into the center of the tortilla, breaking it into chunks, with one large chunk landing in the midst of the confused crows. Then, like a bossy referee, with the swish of his bushy tail he signaled, “Let the game begin!”

With the “tortilla football” now in pieces that could be carried, the Northeast Crows swiftly huddled up opposite the Southwest Crows.  Then, with both “teams” lined up across from each other, the Northeast Crows made a move that resembled Knute Rockne’s 1924 backfield “shift” (used by the famous “Four Horsemen of Notre Dame”).  But an air of caution and indecision kept the backfield in motion, carefully edging towards the pieces of tortilla.

Then, suddenly and without warning, the “center” for the Northeast Crows “snapped” the tortilla ball to his quarterback, who promptly fumbled it to a blitzing Southwest defender – who then flipped the “ball” in the air as if terrified of it.  It was any player’s ball now, flipping everywhere, and getting smaller by the toss.  Excitement was growing with the realization that the once-immovable-object was not only fallible, but now even edible!  And soon it was totally gone!

Meanwhile, Mr. Squirrel, who was sitting on a mound of more crispy giant tortillas, was helping himself to breakfast instead of calling penalties for off-sides and pass interference.  But the revelation had hit home with both the northeast and southwest football teams. It was “come and dine” time once more.  And with two hungry crow teams bearing down upon him, Mr. Squirrel hastily vacated the tortilla breakfast stack and ran up his tree.

In no time, the crows took off with huge pieces from the mound of tortilla shells held firmly in their beaks and looking like small satellite dishes.  “An upgrade for their Crow theater,” I suggested. “More like radar mounted on AWAC planes,” Kevin added.  Laughing together, we watched them disappear across the hilly fields.

Dale, my forever sweetheart husband, loved to study the antics of our crow visitors.  He had a tender spot for them, for, as he would say, The Lord used the ravens to feed the prophet Elijah when he was hiding from the wrath of King Ahab.”  Yes, that intriguing account in I Kings 2-6, where the ravens brought Elijah bread and meat morning and evening, put the crows in a special category for Dale.  He would have loved their Super Bowl antics and their ultimate victory.  Moreover, the Crow’s Super Bowl stirred within me these thoughts:

How many times do we, God’s children, falter in indecision, afraid to reach out and touch what seems like a giant before us.  Like the crows, we come to the place of sustenance that we know well, and trust for good things, only to find a strange, giant object.  We gaze at it in disappointment and confusion, when all the time it is manna from heaven.  We just need to reach out in faith and taste it.  The Lord’s table serves only that which is good for His children.

As David wrote in Psalm 34:8 – “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusteth in thee.”

So, dear reader friends, let’s reach out in faith and taste “Heaven’s tortillas.”  So whether your Super Bowl turns out “plum or plain,” remember the great conflict of the Ages is already won!  And the MVP is Jesus!

Cheering For You….

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

Lift Up Ye Gates

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Jan 16th, 2010

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Hello Dear Blog-Nog Friends from frozen Decker Hills,

Yes, January did indeed bring snow – record breaking snow and ice, and freezing temperatures that kept us marooned on our hill for over a week.  It was so cold that two bobcats (rarely seen) came roaming by.  But, today, Winter’s gate will be opening to let warmer weather in.  Hurray!

Perhaps many of you were also caught up in this Arctic Blast from the North Pole.  I felt that we were only a snowball’s throw away from a “Narnia” Winter.  It made me wish for one of those warm fur coats I saw hanging in the actual wardrobe that inspired C.S. Lewis’ classic tale, “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.”

I had the delightful experience of re-enacting little Lucy’s inquisitive opening of the “gate” to Narnia in Lewis’ story, where she opened the wardrobe door, pushed aside the fur coats hanging in there, and discovered the land of Narnia.  Narnia where it is “Always winter and never Christmas.”

The occasion of my adventure was a visit with my son, Kevin, to the Marion Wade Center at Wheaton College (Kevin’s alma mater).  The Center houses the original works, letters and memorabilia of C.S. Lewis.

It was fascinating to read some of his handwritten manuscripts.  This was his method of writing – an amazing feat, when you consider the hundreds of pages in just his “Chronicles of Narnia” alone!

However, when I came face to face with the original wardrobe from Lewis’ boyhood home in Ireland, what could you expect from Christian Mother Goose?  Naturally, like Lucy, my curiosity opened the door, pushed aside the fur coats, and felt the wonder of Narnia’s atmosphere still there.

I’m sure Lewis’ grandfather, who handcrafted and beautifully carved the wardrobe, never dreamed of the “gate” he was preparing for the delight of millions of children around the world.  The gate through which they would find Jesus, The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, reflected in Aslan, the lion of Narnia.  And so we come to the theme of today’s  blog: “Gates.”

A few miles down our country road is a lovely buffalo ranch.  The entrance is a stunning iron gate with a steel, painted buffalo mounted on it. The buffalo was crafted by a young Indian man. It is so real, it often fools those driving by.  We periodically buy choice, all-naturally-raised buffalo meat there.  And if you look at the health statistics of buffalo meat, you’ll see why.  It beats beef, pork and chicken in every category for being the lowest in fat, cholesterol and calories.

This handsome gate is an invitation to scenic beauty, health, and a chance to sing the cowboy song: “Oh, give me a home, where the buffalo roam…”

The importance and strength of gates in Scripture were representative of their power to guard the city.  They were also the most popular and busiest place in town.  Merchants were there by sunrise to set up shop, followed by city elders who would settle disputes, witness business transactions, and render important civic decisions.

The city of Gaza woke up one day to find their mighty gates had vanished overnight!  In an incredible feat of strength, recorded in Judges 16:3, Samson, (Israel’s Mr. Universe ) pulled up the gates of this enemy city at  midnight, and carried them away on his shoulders to Hebron. That’s a distance of over thirty miles!  Instantly, Samson became number one on the Philistine’s  most wanted list. On the other hand, he was Israel’s hero, and probably number one strong man for Israel in any forthcoming Olympics.

Just recently, I was reading a book on archeological evidence of Church life before Constantine, by Graydon  F. Snyder.  A  most illuminating entry about a gate was listed on a Roman Papyrus Document dated  February 5, 304, titled: “Declaration of Church Property.”

Under oath, a certain Aurelius Ammonius certified that his church owned nothing except a bronze gate!  It went on : “Neither gold nor silver nor money nor clothes nor beasts nor lands nor property either from grants or bequests.”  Simply one gate!  What food for thought!

This revelation led me to think of the significance of such a church statement: “One gate.”  Our Lord Jesus, by His own words, taught us He is the Gate, the only Gate to Heaven and eternal life.  Nothing else matters.  Nothing.  Salvation, peace and His loving arms of welcome are at that Gate.

This week a memory came to my mind of the fate of beautiful wrought-iron gates in World War II England.  Whatever those gates were built for, whatever they kept in or kept out, all individual purpose was now secondary to the defense and survival of a whole nation.  The gates were delivered to the furnace and melted down to become armaments for the winning of the war.

Today, as I think of those gates being sacrificed, I see the picture of Jesus hanging on the Cross, dying not for just one nation, but for the deliverance of the whole world from the great enemy of sin and death.  Jesus, the Beautiful Gate Who was delivered to the fires of judgment in our place; to pay the penalty of Heaven’s court that we couldn’t pay; Jesus, the Gate to eternal life, all because “God so loved the world….”

King David, writing Psalm 24:7-8, gives a resounding cry to his nation, which I apply, not only to Israel, but to the gates of the minds of God’s people everywhere. “Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.  Who is this King of glory?  The Lord strong and mighty, The Lord mighty in battle.”

May we enter this challenging year of 2010 with the gates of our minds open to let the King of glory in; rejoicing that, “Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.” (I John 4:4)

Thanks for visiting me at the gate today.  Warmest wishes,

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

The Bells of London – the Sequel

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Jan 5th, 2010

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HAPPY NEW YEAR to my dear fellow BlogNog Friends,

May 2010 be filled with bright, new hope in our faithful Lord Who said, “Behold, I make all things new.”

To ring in the “new” we rang our smaller version of America’s Liberty Bell.  It’s housed in our Flag Garden here at our Decker Hills home.

What a glorious day it must have been when the original Liberty Bell first rang out announcing the Declaration of Independence on July 8, 1776.

And what an apt Scripture (Leviticus 25:10) is inscribed upon it: “Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.”  I pray that still rings true of America today.

Curiously, the Liberty Bell was cast in England in 1752.  And at that time, the old rhyme called “The Bells of London” was already a favorite, although the children sang it as, “Oranges and Lemons.”

That’s the version I knew well, as a child, and the one I paraphrased to honor God’s Creation in my first Christian Mother Goose Book, released in 1978.  Later, the rhyme was beautifully orchestrated in the Dove award finalist album, “The Christian Mother Goose Musical Adventure” CD.

When you hear the many mystical church bells in symphony on the CD, remember – those Bells of London can still be visited today.  Their fascinating history recalls characters, such as the money-lenders, like old Ebenezer Scrooge of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” who lived within the sound of St. Martin’s bells.  Or, their unfortunate clients who failed to pay back the money-lenders on time, and were sent to Fleet Street Debtors’ Prison, where they languished under the sound of Old Bailey’s bells.

Then, the inspiring Bells of Bow in the story of Dick Whittington (1606).  This young, penniless, runaway lad heard the chimes of the Bow Bells calling to him, seeming to sing prophetically: “Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London.”  Stirred and encouraged beyond all his miserable circumstances, he returned to London where he became wealthy, and, eventually, Lord Mayor of London.

Sadly, those ancient Bow Bells were silenced by Nazi bombs in World War II.  When war comes to your doorstep, everything changes radically.  My own youthful days, growing up in wartime Liverpool, were changed, overnight, forever.  Go back with me to those days:

As the air raids over our city began, it was a strange sight, especially for children, to see colossal, grey barrage balloon dirigibles floating in the sky above us.  They were meant as a defense against enemy bombers, but seemed quite ineffective.  To me, they looked like sad, giant bumblebees who had lost their yellow coats.

World War II Barrage Balloon

Soon after the launching of those barrage balloons, our beekeeper friend, Mr. Yardley, dropped in to see us, obviously bursting with news to tell us. He couldn’t even wait for a cup of tea!  (That’s serious for an Englishman)  So we gave him the floor, and here’s what trumped the tea:

A great swarm of bees had lodged in the pipe organ of a large church.  What a choice place some Queen Bee had chosen for her family gathering, complete with full power amplifiers through all those organ pipes to announce the event.  The “buzz” announcement did not fall on deaf ears!  In fact, the relentless buzzing absolutely guaranteed empty pews the next Sunday – wartime-needed prayers or not.

So, the police were called to conquer – but the buzzing won! The Fire Station was then called – again, the buzzing won!

Then someone recommended Mr. Yardley, the beekeeper.  He was told he could get a huge swarm of bees if he could smoke them out and save the peace.  He hastily arrived on the scene with his equipment.  From the roar of the buzzing, he gleefully anticipated his reward as the smoking-out began.

Suddenly, the great buzzing ceased, and, to his amazement and chagrin, one single solitary bumblebee surrendered to the smoke.  No great swarm (to add to his hive) to justify the uproar.  Just one bumblebee inside the mighty resonance of the pipe organ had thwarted the police, the firemen, and turned a neighborhood upside down!  “Ah – I’ll have that cup of tea now.”

However, thinking about the bells and the bumblebee, I see an abiding principle at work:  It was only in the huge church bell that the small clapper found its ability to ring out across London.  It was only in the resonant pipe organ that the little bumblebee could impact a city’s district.

And it is only in Christ that we frail, flawed earthlings can be transformed with newness of life – eternal life! –  new purpose, new desires and a new destiny.  As it is written in II Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creation; old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”

How miraculous it is to us that the freshness, sparkle, surprise  and delight of the “new” is ever present with God.  Earthlings everywhere are saying, “Happy New Year!”  But it is only with trust in Christ Jesus, The Lord, Who makes all things new, that the year 2010 will remain “new” in the highest and dearest sense.

As I think of all the resolutions I’m making this New Year, I have to chuckle at yet another saying that crops up in the Decker family to drive home a point of need.  My older brother, Jimmy, coined the phrase when he came home after six years away in World War II. Clothing was still heavily rationed, and new shirts scarce.   Grinning, Jimmy said, “Here’s a button, all I need is a shirt sewn on it!”

So, echoing Jimmy’s homespun appeal, I say, “Lord, here are my good resolutions,” (the button).  “All I need is the power to perform them!” (the shirt).  Praise God, His power is not rationed.  It is free and abundant to all “button” believers in “Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.”  (I Corinthians 1:24)

May God’s grace, peace and love “ring out” to all my Blog-Nog-Button friends.  Happy New Year!

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Christian Mother Goose®

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The Christmas Miracle

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Dec 19th, 2009

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Merry Christmas Dear Friends of the fellowship of the Blog,

Christmastime is here!  This week, it brought plunging temperatures and frosty cold that made us welcome the season’s first cheery blaze in our fireplace.  Kevin and I consider the lit fireplace almost another member of the family – “swaddling” us in the comfort of its warmth.

When I grew up in England, homes depended entirely on fireplaces for heat.  Our coal man would deliver coal in 100 lb. sacks.  The living room fireplace was indeed the heart of the home.  This forever remained a symbol to me, especially when I encountered the snowy winters of Colorado.  Later, when my husband Dale and I bought a house in Grand Junction, Colorado that had no fireplace, it seemed forlorn and entirely “unswaddled.”

So, being a man of many talents, Dale set to work to build a fireplace of his own design.  It took nearly nine months!  But, if you knew Dale’s penchant for “built-to-last” projects, you would not be surprised that the fireplace went through numerous architectural stages.  It was the only fireplace I ever saw where the ashes could be emptied from outside the house.  It also drew admiration for its sturdiness when our boys said it could withstand a tornado!  The brick exterior concealed reinforced concrete that was poured around the firebrick flue chamber all the way to the top of the chimney!

By Christmas time, the fireplace was finished.  And just before snow began to fall, the house was warmly swaddled with a big fireplace blazing cheerily.  As we sat together around the fireside glow, we gave Father Dale a big round of applause for building this big “heart of the home.”  Humpty Dumpty’s Christmas Song of “togetherness” fit right in to the happy scene.

On another snowy Christmas Sunday, when high drifts made the road to our small country church impassable, we found being marooned at home was a marvelous way to discover a child’s unique version of the Christmas Story.

It began with never-before-heard-of carols, when Keith, then age 6, jumped forward to lead the singing, and Kevin, at 9, immediately joined him with his Bible ready for preaching.  The rest of us were a captive audience.

The first song is “Slow Elk,” Keith announced.  That was the first revelation, as he robustly sang, “Slow elk, slow elk,” to the tune of “Noel, Noel.”  And he hung on to his own Slow Elk rendition in spite of his congregation’s conflicting “Noel’s.”  The next revelation was the “Dark Colony”, which turned out to be the Doxology, with praise from the “Heavenly Hoe,” and the admonition to preachers: “Praise Him all ‘preachers‘ here below.” (instead of creatures)

But wait!  Revisionist history continued as Kevin earnestly opened with the King James Version of the Christmas story, beginning with: “And Joseph…with Mary his exposed (espoused) wife….  Then, pausing, he soared into his own free-wheeling recitation, taking us back to the Red Sea where, surprisingly, Nebuchadnezzar turned up to chase the escaping Israelites.  Then, on to Jonah, who first headed for England instead of NinevehBut, when God took him to Nineveh by whale, to preach the Gospel, the King there repented in a gunny-sack!

And so the Christmas story flew back and forth between Old Testament heroics and New Testament shepherds, angels, wise men, and finally arriving with Herod challenging the “scribbles”
(scribes) as to the birth of Jesus.

When Kevin finished with, “Ladies and gentlemen, friends, members of the church, I’ve preached the Gospel in South Africa and North Carolina, and…I’m tired,” Keith quickly led in the “Dark Colony” again, and we all clapped heartily.

I dare say that home-spun (i.e. mixed up), but heart-felt performance of two little boys on that snow-bound Sunday, was as precious to our Savior as the grandest service in the Canterbury Cathedral.

After all, it was not in a palace or cathedral that the shepherds made haste to find the One of whom the angel said to them: Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, Who is Christ The Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12)

The birth of The Lord Jesus Christ was not heralded with trumpets and a royal parade; not accompanied by a legion of angelic hosts on white horses.  The shepherds were told to look for the sign of a Savior wrapped in swaddling clothes  – a baby in a manger!

What a miracle!  A Christmas miracle!  The One Who lit the furnace of the sun, was the One the shepherds found wrapped in linen strips of swaddling clothes to keep warm.  The One Who is the Word of God, they found silent in the first hours of His humanity!  God incarnate: Jesus – very God and very Man.

What sacred mysteries surround the love of God, to pour out His love and redemption in the Person of His Son to this needy world.

At last, after thousands of years containing hundreds of prophecies foretelling His coming, The Christ child was born!

This Christmastime, God’s  open invitation still rings out to all earthlings.  No one is too high or too low to accept the free Gift of God, which is eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

May this earth ring with: “Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable Gift!”

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Now, here’s a Christmas invitation:

For many years it’s been a tradition of the Oasis Radio Network to invite the Decker family for their Christmas Road Show broadcast. If you’d like to listen in, My son Kevin and I will be on the Road Show, Noon to 1:00 pm, CST, Tuesday, Dec. 22nd with our host, and good friend, David Warren.

Just Click on the Oasis link above at the day and time just mentioned to join us on the Road Show!

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Merry Christmas! And God bless us all!

Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

One Christmas Eve

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Dec 14th, 2009

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Seasons Greetings Dear BlogNog Friends,

Time has brought us one year closer to the return of the One Who is the very heart of the Christmas we are about to celebrate – The Lord Jesus Christ.  The One Who came with His Savior’s message and mission from God with the great announcement: “Peace on earth, good will toward men.”

That “Christ”mas message, blazing across the evening sky in fantastic waves of light from millions of angels praising God for the miracle of Christ’s birth, stunned the poor shepherds of Bethlehem over 2,000 years ago.

Suddenly, they were cocooned in a dazzling light display for the ages.  Lowly shepherds, given exclusive seats in a field, without having to pay for tickets (which they could never afford anyway).  But such are the gracious ways of God in honoring those in the most humble of honest occupations.  Christmas had entered the hearts of earthlings!

My Christian Mother Goose Rock-A-Bye Christmas Book is dedicated to my life-long friend, Dotty Thur, because of her “Christmas heart.”

Although never married, she will always affectionately be known as the “The Mother of Denver.”  This speaks of her constant outpouring of loving compassion to children, her ministering help to the needy, and her witness to Christ Jesus.  She has brought the Christ of Christmas to the streets of Denver for decades.

Dotty and I often talked about the spiritual roots of her family that stretched back to Bohemia, (the present Czech Republic) the land of King Wenceslas, (907-935).  He is best known to us through the Christmas carol’s true story of “Good King Wenceslas.”  The carol records his kingly concern and generous help to a peasant trudging through the snow and the “rude wind’s loud lament and the bitter weather.”

It was on the Feast of Stephen, (the day after Christmas)  that Good King Wenceslas set out with his page at night to take fuel and food to the poor man he had seen from his castle window. This kindly King was called one of the most beloved brilliant lights of the 10th century.  A king who was a father to his people – a peacemaker – but also a defender of the Christian Faith and a fearless and valiant warrior in battle.  At only 28 years of age, he was martyred, while on his way to church.  Today, the godly king is patron saint of the Czech people, who venerate him with statues, inspiring legends, and a national holiday each year.

The story of good King Wenceslas was my inspiration for echoing his good deeds in the Christian Mother Goose Christmas Book.  I relate the story here for you to enjoy:

On Christmas, over 1,000 years ago, Good King Wenceslas looked out a window; saw the desperate need of an earthling in the winter storm, and stepped out to meet that need.

On Christmas, over 2,000 years ago, God opened the windows of heaven, sent forth His Son, Christ Jesus our Savior, to meet the desperate need of deliverance from the “Narnia”  winter storm in the soul of fallen earthlings.  Like the shepherds who “saw the Light!” – let us make  haste to the Babe of Bethlehem!

So, dear BlogNogs, the voices of God’s people throughout the Ages are with us; from shepherds, to Good King Wenceslas, to our dear Dotty Thur, (and even “Three Kind Mice” around the manger).  We are all rejoicing this Christmas time with: “Joy to the world, The Lord has come!” Yes! “Let everything that hath breath, Praise The Lord!”

Merry Christmas Blessings!

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

Hickory Dickory Dock (The Pendulum of Time)

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Dec 5th, 2009

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“Timely” Greetings Dear BlogNogs and Friends,

As we turned back our clocks to Standard Time recently, I wondered about all those millions of clocks, watches and timepieces that were subject to this one-hour change.  How many workers turned up too early for all kinds of jobs?  How many mixed up appointments?  All because of this thing called “time.”

Then, I thought of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and wondered about their appraisal of such a thing as “time.”  There was no Bulova watch on Adam’s wrist.  And did Eve think of four-o’clock tea?

Did Adam have any idea that his time-span was going to be 930 years?  And how would that knowledge affect a man’s evaluation of time?

For many years I have been studying, and meditating on “What is time?”  All this followed after reading Galatians 4:4 one day, when the word “fullness” jumped out at me.  The verse says: “In the fullness of time God sent forth His Son….”  And ever since, my interest in time revolved around the question, “What is there about time that can be called ‘full?,’” I asked The Lord that question, and this is what I received, “Time is a WOMB.”  This answer opened up key Biblical insights to me.  And it has been an exciting journey ever since to see major Bible themes unfold in a wonderful way in the words ‘WOMB’ and ‘TIME.’

Besides Bible study, my fascination with time reaches into the Christian Mother Goose Big Book, where I wrote a story about “Time Thieves.”  It revolves around the clock-like Docker Bugs who live in Dippley Dockerlee.  I’m sure we all meet “time thieves” in our lives every day, so the Bible reminds us to “redeem the time.”

The old rhyme on time,  “Hickory, Dickory, Dock” was  included in the oldest-known book of nursery rhyme  “Tommy Thumbs Pretty Song Book.”  Published in London in 1744, and selling for about sixpence, this tiny book of 32 rhymes in the British Museum is now worth a fortune.   The origin of Hickory, Dickory, Dock is thought to have originated with the shepherds of Westmorland, in North West England.  They used it as rhyming method to count their sheep.

In The Christian Mother Goose rhyme the clock signals “Amen!”  I like to call God’s people the “Amen!” people, for the heart of our faith is The Lord Jesus Christ.  The Bible states:  “All the promises of God in Him are yea, and in Him Amen…. (2 Corinthians 1:20)

That “Amen”  is rich in every meaning of trust, confidence, stability, truth and more.  And those promises of God reach out to all earthlings who will believe in Him.  Psalm 107:2 says, “Let the redeemed of The Lord say so….”   Therefore, I’m all for hearing those hearty “Amen’s!” across Blog-land.

In our household, the words  “time” and “Bulova watch,” ring with laughter to the tune of “Here comes the Bride.”  And with good reason.  It was a Bulova watch that led me down the aisle of that small country church to marry the handsome jeweler below, as our four sons know well.

The story goes back to the year when my antique wrist watch broke (while living in Paonia, CO), days before I was to fly back home to Liverpool, England.  The jewelers in the nearest large city said it couldn’t be fixed.  However, a dear friend said, “I know a jeweler who certainly can fix it.”  So off we went to Decker Jewelry in the small, nearby town of Hotchkiss.

A very handsome, pleasant and well-mannered young man, Dale Decker, assured me he could indeed fix the antique watch.  As a third generation jeweler he subscribed to the school of horology that could hand-make a watch part, if necessary.  “Very good,” I thought.  But the repair would take more time than I had.  Nevertheless, I decided to leave the watch with this intriguing watchmaker and arrange for its return to me.  At that decision, Dale smiled, reached into a Bulova showcase and, without hesitation, handed me a lovely (and quite expensive) Bulova to use in the meantime.

Is that the way jewelers do business in America?” my  mother asked when she saw the new watch.  “Why don’t you go back to America and date that jeweler, then get me a Bulova too,” my brother, Jimmy, quipped.  Well…there’s much to tell… but suffice it to say that I did go back to America, and “wound up” with both the new Bulova and my repaired old watch.  Then, the day Dale and I became engaged, I mischievously thought how to  announce it to my family in Liverpool.  Perhaps just telegraph: “Start sending the orders for the Bulovas!”

I recall that, when I was a child in Liverpool, my favorite clock was the huge twenty-foot in diameter floral clock in Woolton Woods.  In flowers, time looked beautiful, but endless, as I waited for the cuckoo to pop out.

Time took many thousands of years from Adam’s day to reach the 1875 opening of Joseph Bulova’s  jeweler’s shop in New York City.  During that long span of time, many creative minds had tackled “telling time,”– from sundials used about 5,000 years ago, to the pendulum-based clock developed by the Dutch scientist, Christian Huygens, around 1656. This led to the much admired grandfather clock.  It is the impressive long pendulum that is the heart of precision timekeeping in the sturdy grandfather clock.

My dear husband, Dale, loved clocks, and worked on a mahogany pendulum wall clock as a gift to our son, Bradley.  My contribution was to inscribe the pendulum with a quote from Brad when he was only five years old.  Looking wistfully through a window, he said, “Someday today will be a long time ago.”  Wise words, indeed.

So, dear Blog-Nogs, we have only a measured time in our earthly journey.  The pendulum is swinging to mark off each day.  Will we remember those days as filled with gladness, courage, forgiveness, generosity of heart, faith, hope and love?  Will we face the final swing of the pendulum safe in the arms of Jesus – the One Who stepped out of eternity and into time to become our Savior?

His Cross became the Pendulum of the clock of this big world; His pierced hands always pointing to the hour of our redemption.

The Lord Jesus calls to each of us: “…for this cause came I unto this hour.” (John 12:27)  I kept that salvation appointment with Him in 1954.  I hope you kept your appointment, too.  Do I hear a loud “Amen!”

Yes, we can turn back the clock, but we cannot turn back time. It carries us ever forward and beyond. Beyond to the Keeper of time Himself.

Till next “time,”

Cheerio!

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

Eagles and Heaven

Posted by Marjorie Ainsborough Decker text© 2009 on Nov 23rd, 2009

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A Thanksgiving Blog for our Friends and BlogNogs,

At this time of Thanksgiving, I write through tears mixed with sorrow and joy.  My family especially embraces my precious son, Brad.  This week, his beloved wife, Cheryl, took wings like the eagles she loved, and “slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God” (as penned by a young Royal Canadian Air Force pilot of WWIIJohn Magee).

Cheryl loved the grace, inspiration, loyalty and courage of the eagle.  She surrounded herself at home with eagle pictures and eagle décor.  And when, after a recent massive stroke, she found herself in a battle for life, she truly became the most valiant and courageous “eagle” of all.

We honor Cheryl for her Christ-like character throughout much suffering.  Her solid trust and faith in Jesus arose time and time again from her lips, always adding her thanks to God for the blessing of a devoted husband.  And when she could no longer speak or move, with grace and grit she managed a “thumbs up” of victory upon hearing Isaiah 40:31 – “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary: and they shall walk and not faint.”

Praise The Lord, that’s exactly what Cheryl is doing right now in the glorious, radiant scenery of God’s magnificent Heaven!  And what amazing chapters could be added to the book Cheryl had been working on of her life’s story.  Knowing she is in Glory is a tremendous comfort to all of us who love her.  And what’s more – Heaven is not far away!  The Scottish Christian minister and author, Horatius Bonar (1808-1889), wrote, “Surely yon Heaven, where angels see God’s face / Is not so distant as we deem / From this low earth! / Tis but a little space.…”  I personally stand with Horatius, that God’s Heaven is closer than our mortal eyes can see.

The starry heavens above us may seem vast and endless, but in the miracle of God’s infinite presence, Heaven is close to home.  And our loved ones in glory cheer us on, right over our shoulder! (Hebrews 12:1)  This Biblical comfort comes with a warm embrace to those of my readers who also know the pain of earthly parting.

High flight was on Brad’s mind when, at about five years of age, he came to me and asked, “Mom, how much does it cost to go on a plane to England?”  He was jingling a few coins in his pocket.  I answered, “Lots and lots of money.”  He looked at his coins a bit woefully, then continued, “Well, how much to go on a big ship?”  “Still lots and lots of money,” I replied.

He thought a while, then said, “How much to go on a big bird to England?”  That surprised me, but I said with a smile, “Nothing, I suppose, if you could find a bird big enough to ride for thousands of miles.”  He sighed, and walked off with both hands in his pockets, looking skyward, as if he had a plan.

A week or so later, our family was enjoying lunch under a big tree on our acreage in Hotchkiss, Colorado.  It was a beautiful day, with blue skies that enabled us to see all the way to the far off Ragged Mountains.  Suddenly, we thought we saw a small plane in the distance.  But as it neared, it took our breath away with excitement to see it was a condor – the largest land flying bird in North America (very rare too!).  Its wing-span was about nine feet wide, and to Bradley’s wide-eyed wonder, it flew low, right over our rooftop and attempted to seize a lamb in our neighbor’s field!

After causing pandemonium around our lunch table, the condor flew off to the far distant Ragged Mountains again, disregarding the reports that the few existing condors only lived in California.  Brad was triumphant, as if the condor’s visit was in answer to his plan, but he quickly admitted he was not ready to board a gigantic, living, breathing aircraft with such a scary beak and claws!

Throughout their marriage, Cheryl would chuckle over Brad’s condor story as they competed with each other in a variety of table games they enjoyed so much.  There was a lot of love and devotion around that table, too, but you’ll have to guess as to which winner gave a kiss most times to the loser.

As we trust in our Lord to comfort our heartache, we can only imagine what a wonderful Thanksgiving Cheryl will have this year.  She can now give thanks to God in person, with the Mayflower Pilgrims themselves.  She will see the Lord Jesus as Host to a gorgeous banquet, with angels serving each delicious course.  Not to mention exquisite delicacies never tasted on earth.  All served on fine crystal – absolutely no paper plates in Heaven!

Precious BlogNog reader, Heaven is more real than the world around you right now.  More beautiful, more exciting, more fulfilling than your fondest dreams.  Because God is love!  And His love is the essence of His Kingdom.

Our beloved friend, Dr. N.A. Woychuk, the founder and director of Scripture Memory Fellowship, at 90+ years of age has written a beautiful little book called, “Life In Heaven.”  Writing on “Perfecting our Interests,” he says: “In Heaven – those who are interested in art and painting will have opportunities to pursue those interests.  Those interested in music will have the privilege of enlarging their understanding.  Isaac Newton and Galileo can review all they knew of astronomy.”   And, I might add, they can visit the farthest star to satisfy their ever-curious minds, and be back in time for tea with Noah.  All without the complexities of NASA!

A few minutes ago, I stepped outside in the sunshine.  About half a mile away Kevin and I saw an eagle soaring with ease and freedom.  “Please send it over our flag garden, Lord,” I prayed, with thoughts of Cheryl’s new vistas of eagles. And The Lord did!  Thank You, Lord.

Oh, how great is our Father God!  How merciful, forgiving and loving to welcome to His Heavenly home all who believe in and love The Lord Jesus, our Savior!  Cheryl is there today, incredibly free from all pain and heartache; The eagle has flown!  Praise the Lord!

May I say “thank you” with heartfelt appreciation, to all our reader friends who prayed for Cheryl, Brad and us.  May you and your families enjoy a “God-blessed” Thanksgiving, with all praise to Him for His goodness and grace.

In thanksgiving,

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Christian Mother Goose®

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For Christian Mother Goose® products and Gift Sets, please visit this link:

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    • ol bean: The wind is much like faith. When a person has complete faith, they feel it… they know it‘s there… just as we can feel the wind pushing us in a specific direction. But, just...
    • Timothy: Hello Mrs. Decker, flying kites was a tradition when I was a kid. We built our own, some of which flew very well while others didn’t get off the ground. Great memories nonetheless. I...
    • ol bean: What a fun trip down memory lane. Baseball cards and marbles were certainly a big part of the lives of many of us. Even today, sometimes I feel like I’ve lost all my marbles all over...
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    • Timothy: Hello Mrs. Decker, when I was a kid I wanted to climb Mt. Everest. What is funny is, as an adult I can’t stand to be cold, unless it is while eating an ice cream cone like the one in...
    • Chalane Coit: Dear Marjorie: I love you and I love reading your posts. Thanks for putting the “things” of the world into such a wonderful spiritual perspective. It brings such meaning...
    • Pam Larkin, Tacoma: I love your blog. I am so glad you are still publishing, and writing. I just fininshed talking to your son on the phone in Tulsa. I was attempting to order the Rock-a-Bye Bible...
    • Kim Feldick: Dear Marjorie, I finally have high speed and so went straight to your blog. What a joy I have had reading through this posting and the previous ones. I must tell you, this one (Jan....
    • ol bean: Sometimes great opportunity is right before our eyes and we complain because it is simply unfamiliar to us. We are often slow to change or reject it altogether. It takes us out of our...
    • Carolyn: Timothy, I thought you were going to say the Super Bowl would certainly pale in comparison to the Crow Bowl! But you have trumped that with the truth and reality of the incomprehensible...
    • gmack: What a chuckle I got from your blog. I very rarely throw out any food, but once I do I am amazed at how fast the crows know it. What sensory antennea they must have. God’s way of...