Did you Hear About Super Gran?

I want to be like Ann Timson when I grow up.

71 year old Ann Timson, aka "Super Gran" has fiery red hair and a firm determination to defend the defenseless.

Dressed in a red coat and wearing support bandages on her legs, Ann was ready for her dance class later in the day. At the top of the hill she saw what she thought was a group of thugs beating up a boy.

Though she is 71 years old, suffers from arthritis, and has to use a wheelchair at times Ann sprinted to the rescue.

Ann humbly disagrees. "The legs would have collapsed on a run, so I wouldn't say it was a run. It was an amble."

When Ann arrived at the top of the hill she realized that the men she saw from a distance were thieves,  using axes and hammers to break into a jewelry store in broad daylight.

All superheroes have hidden superpowers. Ann's is her courage. Armed only with a lightweight bag holding her purse and a newspaper, this frail little grandma attacked the whole group of six thieves.  Some of the thieves tried to flee, but with Super Gran still attacking, they lost their balance on the get-away scooter, and were arrested.

Like any good hero, Ann denies that she did anything special.

In her Today show interview Super Gran admitted that this is not her first attempt to fight crime. She also organized a group to fight the crime happening in her neighborhood.

Though it might be reasonably argued that the wisest course of action would have been to use a cell phone to call the police, I admire Ann's spunk and the selfless way she risked her life to try to save someone she thought was being hurt.

The world would be a better place if there were more superheroes like Ann walking our streets.

Ann's heroism was caught on video. You've got to watch this!

http://www.bing.com/videos/watch/video/i-m-not-super-gran-says-purse-wielding-woman/6ayrrcn?q=super+gran&FORM=VIRE8

Chai and Stories

I am still thinking about stories. Today I am thinking about small stories, the mundane stories we tell each other about the events of the day.

On the open shelf in my kitchen stands a dark wooden mortar and pestle from Mozambique. Simple, elegant grooves are carved into the sides of the mortar and the handle of the pestle. The ones in the handle of the pestle massage my hand as I grind spices. My daughter bought it on a trip she took with a group from church during high school. We use it to grind spices for homemade chai. On Saturdays we crush cardamom and toss it into water along with the tea we bought in Manipur, India. Aroma fills the house. We add milk. The chai watches for me to grow impatient, waits for my attention to wander, and the moment my back is turned, seizes the opportunity to climb out of the confines of the pot. It boils over, hissing and sputtering and burning onto the stovetop, every time. It is tradition.

I strain the chai, then we sit around the table sipping it. The perfect mug must do more than hold a steaming cup of comfort, it must frame the drink, the way a perfect picture frame enhances and sets off the artwork it holds. We each drink from a mug carefully chosen to bridge the gap between our current mood and the warm comfort of the chai. We tell stories of the week past and the week to come. 


Those quiet moments of connection are so important. Now that I am middle aged, able to both look back on a few decades, and look forward with the hope that I still have a few decades to spend on this planet, I am even more thankful for the tradition of sharing our stories with each other. I have heard that many families have given up sitting together and sharing the mundane stories of their days. I feel sorry for them.

Stories

We love stories as long as they happen to someone else. Stories don’t give answers, but they do offer perspective. They provide a window through which we can look for patterns of life. Peering through the window then leads to more compelling stories and finally deeper wisdom. Wisdom isn’t a formula or conclusion but a way of being in the world that leads to a more truthful and more beautiful good. Stories lure us because we sense this good hidden within them.-Dan Allender

Stories are part of my DNA.

I remember curling up on my mama's lap while she skillfully lifted the stories of Jimmy Skunk and Sammy the Jay from the pages of a book and gave them to my sister and me like a bedtime kiss.

I remember sitting around the dinner table, while my daddy, a natural storyteller, leaned back in his chair and told us about something that happened that day, or in the unimaginably distant past, when he was a child.

I remember the silly, incoherent stories about Banjo the dragon I spun with my own children when they were small.

I remember being a small girl, so absorbed in the world of a good book that it was more real to me than my own life. 

Stories are still as essential to me as food and shelter. Friday night, every Friday night, is pizza-movie night at our house. It is an important part of my week. When I travel, I carry a tiny hairbrush, an itty bitty tube of toothpaste, and at least 4 books.

Why do I love stories so much? Maybe it is because I find a sliver of myself in every character. Maybe it is because God is the ultimate storyteller. The whole world and all of history are parts of His epic tale. Maybe they lead me to things that are true.

I hope you get to enjoy a good story this week.
Beth

Miracles

Do we need miracles or do we need only to perceive that every ordinary thing around us is already miraculous?
Elizabeth Rooney

I am learning to open my eyes to the miracles in each day. Little things like the fact that I am sipping tea from India out of a cup from Vietnam, while I sit in Colorado and chat with my son in England!

It is -12 degrees outside my door today, but I sit in perfect comfort due to the dual miracles of insulation and a furnace.

My heart keeps beating, my lungs keep filling with air, every cell in my body keeps doing its job, all while I sit here "doing nothing".

I sleep soundly each night and awake in peace each morning knowing that no matter what the day holds "The good hand of my God is upon me" ( Nehemiah 2:8)

What miracles are all around you today?