Scattered Writings of a Blogger

      I was prepared to worship.  I'd taken time before synagogue to study the Torah, Prophet, and New Testament readings for the week.  I'd been in prayer all the previous day about the service, praying that it would be a blessing to us, to everyone who came to service. The first thing I noticed that morning was the scant crowd.  It's not a huge synagogue but generally the room was filled.  Not this week. Then someone said the Rabbi was not there and the alternate music leader was ill with strep throat.  She was telling another person that she had put together a worship program using CDs and had asked the Davidic dance team to perform.   I was disappointed.  It had been a long time since I'd tried to worship with 'canned' music, and I'd never really seen the dance team perform as they usually stepped into a side room which wasn't easily viewed.  I tried hard to bite back the deep disappointment that I felt. John join...

    I was reading a blog the other day about a young woman who'd had a troublesome day with her two-year-old.   She linked to another blog with another woman who'd had a troublesome day with her little boy as well.   I was amused and went to the comments section to leave an encouraging word, but many others had been there before me.   Most all of them had small children and they told of their bad days.   I read.   I laughed.   I commiserated.   I am a mom.   I know. Amie was a good baby, except for her desire to stay up ALL NIGHT LONG.   She did not sleep a full night through until she was eight years old.   She truly was a good child, with only two 'bad day' memories for me. There was the first day. She was two at the time.   On that day, she locked me out of the car I'd just put her into.   Thankfully on a cool autumn day.   When I finally convinced her to unlock the door it was because she had to go po...