Tears and Triumph

“Tell the people of Jerusalem, ‘Look, your King is coming to you. He is humble, riding on a donkey-riding on a donkey’s colt.’ ”   

Matthew 21:5


On that day…..the day we call Palm Sunday…..the Lord Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem on a small donkey. As the ecstatic crowd welcomed Him thinking He was the one who would free them from  their suffering under a cruel and harsh rule, He wept.

“As He approached Jerusalem and saw the city, He wept over it and said, ‘If you, even you, had only known on this day

what would bring you peace-but now it is hidden from your eyes.’”    Luke 19:41-42

The Greek word for weep is  ἔκλαυσεν…meaning to weep aloud, expressing uncontainable, audible grief (“audible weeping”). He was sobbing; those around Him could have heard Him but the crowds were cheering.

Our Lord shed tears of grief and sorrow as He rode the small donkey into Jerusalem that day.


“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and makes war. ” Revelation 19:11

“On His robe and on His thigh He has this name written:

King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” Revelation 19: 16

Yes, Jesus Christ is coming again and in complete victory and triumph. He will not be shedding tears. As the King of Glory, He will be riding a white horse….not a small donkey. He will establish His everlasting kingdom.

Wishing you a blessed Palm Sunday with praise to Him.

‘Til He shouts!

I first wrote and published this blog in 2015. The message is the same; it will never change, and will never grow old

Which Art Wins?

How do we measure what is good art?

Above you’ll see examples of my art: a watercolor, an acrylic landscape, an acrylic abstract, and a realistic oil portrait. No, I’m not asking you to vote on my artwork but to think about how we measure art.

Here is an interesting excerpt from a book I’m reading titled, The View From the Studio Door, by Ted Orland.

“In academia it’s considered a virtue to frame questions that yield clear, concise and demonstrably correct answers-answers that remain a constant no matter who responds to the question. But equally, there exists another entire universe of questions in which the answer changes as each new person engages the question. Questions that introduce value judgments and shades of meaning and degrees of certainty into the equation engage entire fields of human endeavor that fit poorly (if at all) within the prevailing educational framework. Like the arts, for instance. You can measure to a clear, concise and objective certainty the color of the sky above your head-but what is the color of the sky inside your mind? For Maxfield Parrish the correct answer was a cerulean blue; for Albert Ryder it was midnight black; for Beethoven is was F major. Making headway in the arts is a process of navigation without numbers. How do you measure what is Good? What happens when there are many correct answers to a given question? And what happens when some of those answers are profound, others superficial? Or when some are intellectually abstract, others searingly personal?

Those are not-pardon the pun-academic questions. If a roomful of students all arrived at the identical (and demonstrably correct) answer to a math question, it would be exemplary. But if those same students answered an artistic question by producing a roomful of identical paintings, something would be terribly wrong. Indeed, if the only things that counted were the things you could count, Haydn would clobber Beethoven 106-9 in the symphony playoffs, and the Museum of Modern Art would hang street banners declaring Whoever Paints the Biggest Picture Wins.”

Well, Mr. Orland said it well. Our opinion of any given artwork is subjective. My opinions, too.

Crawfish, Rats, Me and Pete

Adele and Pete growing up cropped 8-18-15

Pete and Adele

I don’t remember ever being too hot to play outside, or too tired to run all the way home from a friend’s house and then jumping that ditch in the nick of time. I had to jump that ditch. That ditch had things in it that crawled and had legs with claws. Turns out they were crawdads. I think some people call them crawfish. Nevertheless, I thought they were just about the scariest things I had ever seen and ever hoped to see in the future.

Crawfish 8-18-15

That ditch was to be avoided at all costs, which took a little doing since it ran all the way across the front of our house and it rained a lot in our area. Heavy rains brought that ditch even closer to the house. I know because I watched it. Our front yard did have a place of great safety…..the swing hanging under the giant oak tree. If I could get to it during high tide without encountering one of those crawling things, I would jump onto it and look down at the water with a smug sense of security.

Some people said that Pete was a rat terrier. That seemed OK to me. I figured that the name had something to do with his size, until someone else told me that rat terriers are very, very good at finding rat holes and digging out the occupant. Good grief! Not my dog! I forgot Pete’s calling in life until the day my Daddy said that the neighbors down the road from us wanted to borrow Pete to help get rid of some rats in their barnyard. That was almost more than I could stand, so I went in the house and hid. Of course no one was looking for me, but for some reason it was comforting to hide.

Adele in hamper

Quite a while had passed as I huddled in the dirty clothes hamper, in the dark, when suddenly I heard a dog’s yelping coming closer and closer.

Rat looking out of rat hole

I ran out in the yard just in time to see Pete arrive back on our property and run under the house. Obviously, he also found it comforting to hide. Later Daddy told me that Pete had found the rats, got a good look, then ran for home. So much for names.

To read earlier blogs about Pete and me, go here:

Me, Pete and the Chickens

Trapped in the Doghouse

See you next time,

first name signature

Finish Your Food, Adele

Probably the most frequent phrase I heard in my childhood was “Finish your food, Adele”. I had next to no appetite, except for tiny amounts of chocolate, peanut butter, waffles….that sort of thing. Nevertheless, I was more active and lively than my brother and sister combined and showed no signs of malnutrition; however, I was very, very skinny. I grew out of that particular problem and am totally grateful for and enjoy the food our Lord provides. He is ever-faithful.

During our early years of marriage, money was scarce. It wasn’t unusual to find a note on the bananas, “Hands off. These are for your lunch bags”, or in the refrigerator a note on little plastic dishes, “Nope! Stay away. This is for supper.” They soon learned to ask first.

Through the years our finances became less strained, but I never lost my appreciation and gratitude for our Lord’s generous supply for all our needs. I rarely fail to thank Him out loud for all the food we carry into the house after a visit to the grocery store. I’m truly grateful and know He is the One and Only provider.

“Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted.

He did the same with the fish.” 

___John 6:11

I remember how touched I was when I first comprehended that verse. The Lord and creator of the universe, (Colossians 1:15-16) was giving thanks to His Father for their food at that amazing picnic. What a rich blessing to know that grace and humility are natural characteristics of our Lord Jesus Christ and He never changes. He is so worthy of our praise, and gratitude. If He feels the need to give thanks for His food, I will thank Him for my food, before I eat, wherever I am….at a picnic for 5000, standing by a food truck, enjoying afternoon tea and a cookie, or waiting in line at McDonalds. I even thank the Lord for providing fast-food restaurants, with inexpensive food. It comforts me to know someone short on money can still buy lunch.

This Thanksgiving, I’m thanking Him more than ever. He has blessed us so far above our hopes. I’m grateful and praise Him for who He is, for what He has done, and for all He has in store for us.

“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

___Ephesians 3:20-21

‘Til He Shouts,


On Good Friday

O Sacred Head

O sacred head, now wounded,
with grief and shame weighed down,
now scornfully surrounded
with thorns, your only crown.
O sacred head, what glory
and blessing you have known!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I claim you as my own.

My Lord, what you did suffer
was all for sinner’s gain;
mine, mine was the transgression,
but yours the deadly pain.
So here I kneel, my Savior,
for I deserve your place;
look on me with thy favor
and save me by your grace.

What language shall I borrow
to thank you, dearest Friend,
for this, your dying sorrow,
your pity without end?
Lord, make me yours forever,
a loyal servant true,
and let me never, never
outlive my love to you.

“Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’ With that, He bowed His head and gave up His spirit.” John 19:30

The poem “O Sacred Head”, is attributed to Paul Gerhardt, 1656

‘Til He Shouts!

“Faith isn’t faith…..until….”

“Faith isn’t faith….until…..”

I read a quote I’ve not forgotten. “Faith isn’t faith until it’s all you have to hang onto.”

At first I thought it was a profound statement, but later came to believe it was inadequate and only the beginning of a greater truth.

Faith is indeed important but it must have an object. Faith in what? Faith in whom? Isn’t it possible for faith with no object to become merely a work of our human ability? Honestly, I don’t have much faith or hope left in my own human ability. Do you?

Many years ago I put my faith and hope in the greatest foundation of all, the ever-faithful solid rock, our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of our true hope, the ultimate object of our faith.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name

On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

When darkness veils His lovely face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil

(The Solid Rock___words by Edward Mote 1832)

‘Til He Shouts,


My Dream World

I Love Pretty Things: I love flowers, kitties, sunsets, moonlight, fireflies, great paintings, inspiring books and movies, perfume, sweet smelling soap, hot showers, a clean house (okay, at least orderly), rain (in reasonable amounts), nail polish, make-up, hand lotion on a cold, dry day, color…lots of color, faces, the smell of clothes hung outside on the clothesline to dry, freshly turned earth in the flower-beds, fragrant candles, waves hitting the beach, our Grandchildren and Great-grandchildren….on and on. These things are part of my dream world.

Snoozing Cat 7-9-15

Don’t Disturb my Dream World: While studying art in college, I  noticed the professors preferred we learn to paint subjects that were “socially relevant”. I wanted to paint landscapes, cats, pretty flowers, and an occasional smiling face. The closest I ever came to “socially relevant” was a series of three paintings about homeless people. I was pleased with my technique and skill, but depressed by the subject and concept. Not fun. I had to step out of my dream world to make a good grade.

My Personality: Maybe it is part of my personality. I’ve taken the tests, read many books on the subject, attended seminars, even taught the personalities, enough to finally know my own personality.  Notice, I did not say I like it nor that I understand it.

Personality Strengths:  Those of us with this same personality like fun, pretty things, laughter, friends, people, groups, and share a firm belief that everybody loves us. Don’t they? Maybe that should be in the Weaknesses column.

Personality weaknesses: There is a downside to my personality, as there is to all personalities. I don’t like an excess of rules and regulations, I don’t like silence so I talk (too much) to fill it in, I get bored easily (That’s why I change art mediums so often), I’m impulsive and quick to act before thinking it through (Remember I get bored easily), I’m easily disappointed with myself and others.  To me things are either absolutely fabulous or not worth my time.

Finding Answers in God’s Word: In my Bible study I’ve found several Scriptures speaking to me and to my personality. I guess I feel justified to be so happy and light-hearted.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is lovely,

whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy

-think on these things”. Philippians 4:8

Who Knew? Trees, Mountains and Rivers Are Happy:

“Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy.” Psalm 98:8

“You will go out with joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” Isaiah 55:12

Permission to Stay and Enjoy My Dream World:  We Christians have permission to be happy as a child confident in its father’s love and care. We can clap our hands, sing out loud, and smile….like a little girl playing in her play-house.

“The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  Zephaniah 3:17

My Dream World Is Real!

‘Til He Shouts!

first name signature

Adele, U.S. Marshal

US Marshal (final art)

 A few years back, I spoke  to a Christian women’s event at a large church on the subject, “Dare to Dream”. It was a success; the ladies seemed to relate and understand the importance of dreaming.

I’m a dreamer and have always been a dreamer. My earliest dream that I can remember was to be a:

1.  Lovely Indian Maiden.Dressing the part was very important in all my dreaming. I put together an outfit most closely matching what I saw  the lovely Indian maidens wear  in the cowboy movie at the Saturday morning Fun Club. I made a teepee by throwing a blanket over a ladder. For fun (short-lived) I would sit on the edge of the little pond in our backyard and make Indian pottery out of the mud. I slept alone in that teepee….at night……once. With every dream comes a problem. Problem: I would wake up with very damp blankets and frizzy hair. I no longer looked like an Indian, especially a lovely one. NO fun.

The closest I ever came to fulfilling this dream was in junior high. Back in the day, we were called Indians and had an annual Pow Wow out on the baseball field. I had the honor of being voted the “Indian Princess” by my class. My Mother made my outfit; I was truly lovely….at least I thought so.

2. U.S. Marshal. I wore my cowboy hat (a perfect Christmas gift for a little Texas girl), a toy gun and holster, and a badge. I looked tough and cast fear into all my little friends. I would create play scenarios, eventually arrest each and every one, and lock them into a make-shift jail my parents let me put together. Problem: Soon there was no one left to play with or arrest. My playmates got tired of being arrested and went home.

3.  Housewife and Mother. My Father and Grandfather built a playhouse in our backyard for my sister and me. It was wonderful; it had a  main room, a loft with a ladder, and a kitchen with a wood-burning fire stove. It even had “running water”. Daddy hung a bucket outside the kitchen and ran a rubber tube through to the kitchen sink. All I had to do was siphon the water from the bucket into my kitchen….until one day an awful looking bug came through the tube along with the water.

I caught minnows from our little pond and fried them over that slow fire…too soggy or gross to eat. I had girlfriends over for sleepovers in my playhouse. I remember one night being awakened by a very strange noise and discovered it was coming from some kind of BIG bird walking right past the door to my playhouse, making a scary noise. I never knew what it was but the sound of the playhouse door slamming scared it away. Now I realize it was probably the hoot owl that lived in our woods. Problem: Scary noise and critters at night and too much work keeping the playhouse clean.

4.  Famous Broadway Star. When the musical “South Pacific” came to my attention, I became convinced I was a natural for the part of Nellie Forbush. My parents let me take dance lessons and took me to see touring musicals. Problem: I was told I would have to move to New York to pursue this dream.

5.  Artist. My Father was a professional illustrator and a fine art painter. He gave me private lessons and helped me get my first job in an art studio as a teenager. I thought this would stick and it has for many years….but I’m still dreaming.

Langston Hughes wrote:

“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams, for when dreams go, life is a barren field, frozen with snow.”

____from Dreams

Paul, the great Apostle of Jesus Christ wrote:

  Now glory be to God! By his mighty power at work within us,

he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope.

____Ephesians 3:20 The Holy Bible

‘Til He Shouts,

Your Personality and Everything Else

What does your personality have to do with your life? Does it matter if you understand yourself? Will understanding your Personality help your work, relationships with family, friends and parenting?

Of these few questions the only one I frequently asked myself is “Will understanding my personality help me with my work as an artist? When meeting someone new or a distant friend they would ask me what I do. “I’m an artist.” Oh really, that’s interesting. What medium to you use? Yikes! Here’s that darn question again to which I would always give a dumb answer, “It depends on what day or month it is.”

You can see I had worked on a perky answer to give just in case. When they would repeat the question or begin to walk away I would hang on to them and say “You see, I like acrylics, oils, watercolor, pen/ink, pencil, charcoal, art markers, even computer art.” I would continue “After using one medium for a day, or week, or month, I inevitably yearn to get back to one of the others.” If my questioner was also an artist, they would just shake their head and look for the exit. If they were not a fellow artist, they would look like they were sorry they had asked. No one ever stopped to give me counsel on my particular and strange problem, so it continued.

Little did I know that I would soon get an answer. One day more than a decade ago while going through my mail I came across a brochure advertising a seminar coming to Houston. It was about learning how to be a public speaker and a published author. Wow! How did they know I’ve always wanted to be a public speaker?

(This is how my dream looked. Out of humility, I won’t show the huge crowd laughing out loud, or clinging to my every word.)

I studied and worked very hard using all their advice and techniques. Meanwhile, they advertised yet another seminar teaching about our personalities…how to understand yourself as well as others. So, I registered for that seminar, also. Again, I attended, studied, wrote papers, read books, and worked hard, and gradually my questions began to be answered.

It wasn’t easy to determine my own personality, but I became “expert” in recognizing the personality of others……. or so I hoped! I finally learned that I had a Sanguine Personality. At first, I was happy about that, but as I learned about the weaknesses of that personality, I decided to call myself a “Recovering Sanguine.” To stick with the main question I posed in the opening paragraph of this blog, I learned that I am impulsive and very easily bored and find it difficult to stay with one thing until it is finished. There you have it. I was relieved. At least it explained my switching from one medium to the next. But I still do not have a coherent answer to the question that keeps coming up.

Since becoming a Certified Personality Trainer (CPT), I have spoken on The Personalities and other subjects to women’s groups such as weekend retreats, luncheons, Personality parties, 12-week courses covering all aspects, banquets, to professional groups and others. The more I study about the Personalities and teach others, the more I learn.

One Sanguine strength is loving to talk, but we were taught that a strength used to extreme becomes a weakness. Darn! I still work on that particular strength/weakness. Also, the Sanguine wants to be the center of attention at all times. Yeah! Not good. My favorite Sanguine strength is that I think everyone loves me; or is that a weakness? The Sanguine loves color, friends, showing-off, talking, all that sort of thing. Their worse nightmare is that they will only “blend in”.

Even now, years later I still cannot give a final answer, but I really enjoy my art…….oils, watercolors, charcoal, acrylics, pen/ink, etc. I’m sticking with them all.


The Scorpion and the Beetle

The Scorpion and the Beetle 12-16-15

A True Story!

While other women are totally occupied with plans for the summer holidays , shopping, or redecorating ……I’m sitting at the breakfast table (at 9:45 AM), sipping my hot tea and thinking about the time I killed a scorpion. Yes, I, not David, killed a household bug. I’m still proud.

It was a lot of years ago in Dallas and in the evening. David was at a meeting and all three kids were asleep in bed. Ahhhh! My time to enjoy a TV show of my choice.

However, my special time was interrupted when I noticed a big scorpion slowly walking across the living room floor directly in front of me. Horrors! For a few minutes I watched it make its slow progress. I knew that having my feet up on the sofa and ignoring it was not a solution. I had to kill it…..before it got away. Me? Double horrors! But I reasoned I had three little children, 4,2 and 1 to think about. What if the scorpion got away only to appear again among the Lincoln Logs as they played the next day?

After forever, I made my move. I rolled up a newspaper, slowly crept off the sofa, on the scorpion’s blind side, whacked it really hard, left the newspaper on top of it and jumped back on the sofa. Time passed as I fully expected it to come calmly walking out from under the newspaper, totally unhurt.

After another forever, I mustered the courage to move the newspaper. I had to know. Yay!  It was dead.  I had saved my children! I’m brave after all!

Finally I went back to enjoying my TV show when I noticed another movement on the floor in front of me near our fireplace. A big beetle was slowly walking across the floor right in front of me, heading toward the scorpion road-kill. He assessed the situation, then calmly broke off a piece of the scorpion, turned around and took it back to the fireplace where it had been hiding watching me being brave.

Over and over the beetle patiently walked to the scorpion, got a piece,and took it back to its lair. Back and forth, back and forth. I’ve often wondered if the beetle had planned the whole thing. I’ll never know. Now there was nothing left for David to clean up when he got home.

Good beetle!

P.S. I’ve been doing art things for a lot of years, but I think this is the first time I’ve ever sketched a scorpion or a beetle.

first name signature