Letter to my sister regarding our mysterious Jewish maiden name

I wrote this very long letter to my sister today, and I was so fascinated by the subject of it, that I decided to post a record of it here.

Dear Martha,

So...it will be interesting to see what Rachel's DNA results are. I'm thinking since she is the only one between the four of us who can get a tan, her percentage of "Italy" will probably be higher. I just found out from my children that they had discussed the possibility of buying me a DNA test from ancestry.com for Christmas. Turns out that Audra had already purchased a gift for me and the price was too steep for Allen and Alicia to foot just between the two of them, so the idea was dumped. (Blah hah!☹️) Now I'd really like one.

This is lengthy...but I think it will interest you.

The very low percentage (1%) of European Jew surprises me. However, maybe it shouldn't. Grandpa insisted that he was German and that they came from Germany. His first language was German, the food his mom cooked was all German, their customs were all German..even being part of the Lutheran church. He had a German Bible from childhood...which he complained to me once that he had lost. I had gone over there to bring him some soup once when he wasn't feeling well during those last months that he was living alone and he told me that he couldn't find his German Bible anywhere. He was troubled by that. He was sure that he had never gotten rid of it. I look back and wonder now if he somehow instinctively knew he was at the end of his life (after all...he was stubbornly still around at 94 years young). Maybe he was reflecting on his life and wanted to think about spiritual things...making him really want the Bible he had used as a kid. Also, in a conversation with Gudrun once, I told her about my Great Grandfather coming from Germany. She was very interested and told me that "Emil" was a very German name. It doesn't sound like Grandpa's family was very Jewish to me....but the very Jewish name of Plotzker is a puzzle! The other curious thing I remember Grandpa mentioning to me was that his father was fluent in several languages. I was either in my teens or early 20s when he told me that. I remember being surprised and saying something like, "He was?!" but curiously, I never thought to ask him what other languages those were...or to tell you or Rachel that interesting little tidbit of information until many years later. Was Emil fluent in Hebrew? Russian? Yiddish? Polish? English?...Was German actually a secondary language for him?

Thanks to Audra, I have some more theories about his parents and background. Only guesses, but read on.

The record that ancestory.com has of the ship that G'grandpa and G'grandma came over on says that they came from a city in Poland (which one was it, again?) and their nationality was Russian. I was talking about this very recently with Audra, (my little IWU history major). I was telling her how it didn't make much sense to me because it seemed to us that they were Jewish or maybe Polish or maybe even German. She told me that it made perfect sense because of the "Pale of Settlement" imposed on the Jews during the period of time that they would have immigrated. I didn't know what she was talking about. She started to explain to me that the Russian gov't imposed Pograms on all the Jews living in their territory (which I actually knew about). What I didn't know was that something called the "Pale of Settlement" was created by Russia and part of that expanded into what had previously been known as (and what is today once again known as) Poland. Russia and many of its people didn't particularly like Jews, and since they had taken over Poland, they had even more of them to "deal with." They imposed laws on them. One of the ways to solve the "problem of the Jews" was to force them all to live in a specific region called "The Pale of Settlement." Russia wouldn't allow Jews to live anywhere else and they also imposed all sorts of other rules on them like what sorts of professions they were and weren't allowed to have, having extra taxes, that they couldn't live within any major cities in the region, and other terrible things.

Much of this settlement was in Poland and present day Turkey. At some point it even included part of what had been the Kingdom of Prussia (which we now see as Eastern Germany). Over the years, between its creation by Catherine the Great (who particularly disliked Jews, I guess) in 1791 and it's eventual disbandment in 1917, the western border fluctuated quite a bit. Anyone living within the Pale in what we now recognize as Poland, technically belonged to Russia during this time. Therefore, they would be considered "Russian" even if they lived in Poland. (Thus the stamp of nationality when they came over). 

During the turn of the century, many Jewish people immigrated to America and other parts of Europe to get away from the persecution. Anti-semitism was on the rise throughout all of Europe during this time (Satan was alive and well...and prowling around like a roaring lion...wanting to devour the Jews). With the surname of Plotzker, people would have recognized Emil and Berta as Jewish...even if they no longer considered themselves to be Jewish. By then, the Plotzker family may have left the Jewish faith altogether, generations earlier, and even intermarried with Gentiles (watering down that European Jewish blood). Perhaps Emil found sympathy in a very pretty miss Berta Arndt because she was of a similar background. (Didn't you say that her last name was also of Jewish origin? Some of my searching says that too, but other sources say it is Anglo-Saxon...more puzzling, but not if she was in fact, a German girl) Could he have gone to Germany at some point and met her...and maybe even brought her "home" to the Pale (Poland)? (Didn't someone say something once about her hiding in a barn somewhere from "communists?") 

According to Grandpa, his mother only knew German when she came over and she had to learn English after she came here. I don't think she ever spoke it very well. According to Dad, her English was very broken, with a strong accent (which was very entertaining to her grandchildren at times...poor g'grandma)...and he remembered her reverting to German on occasion. G'grandpa was apparently very well educated, but I don't think G'grandma was. I remember hearing about her superstitions, which Dunja told me was very common of the older generation during her childhood in Germany. Maybe the German background they supposedly had was really only hers. ? Or here's another thought, maybe even she didn't know she had marrried a man of Jewish ancestry.

The original Plotzkers came from a town called Plotzk (also known as Plotke, Plock, or even Płock), a well known Jewish settlement in Poland-inside the Pale. Everyone in Poland and Russia...and probably even eastern Germany would have known this. Which would also explain why my Spanish professor at MCC, a woman in her 50s or 60s, who was originally from Poland, disliked me very much! At Christmas time that year, she told the class to ask me about Hannukah because I would know all about it. When I acted very puzzled and told her I wasn't Jewish...she said "You are too Jewish," and then seemed very annoyed when I kept insisting that I was not Jewish and knew nothing at all about Hannukah. As I left the classroom that day she said to me, "You are Jewish." I just thought she was an absolute nut at the time and I came home with yet another weird story to tell at the dinner table about this awful professor I had. I couldn't figure out why she hated me from the first day of class. On the first day of Spanish class at MCC, my professor was calling names for the role call and hesitated when she called my name. She stopped and looked full into my face before going on with the rest of the names. I remember thinking it was a bit odd and almost expected her to ask me about possibly being related to another Plotzker she knew or something, but she didn't. After that, she made it obvious to everyone that she didn't like me. At first I thought it was my imagination, but as I ignored it, it intensified and other students came up to me to ask me why the teacher hated me much...to which I replied, "I have no idea." All the students thought she was a bit mentally off (and I'm fairly certain they were right) and they dismissed it at that. I remember trying to ignore it...but it persisted. I complained to Eric Shadd, who tried to convince me to report her to the dean of students. I didn't do that...and when I received a very low grade from her I really wished that I had. Years later, when you made the discovery of our surname being Jewish, I was very surprised. A few years later, after I had read more on the history of the holocaust, particularly about the intense hatred in Poland towards the Jews, the memory of this professor came back. It all made sense. She would have been very familiar with the name "Plotzker" and would have been a young woman during WW2, either in her teens or very early 20s, soaking up all the hate propaganda...which very likely could have persisted years later in her prejudice against Jews in general.

Pretty much all of the Jewish citizens of Plotzk were massacred during Hitler's reign of terror. Terribly sad and tragic. Evil. I already told you that I once found a record of someone named Plotzker on a list of arrivals by train to Dachau. 😞

I'm sure that Emil and Berta experienced anti-semitism no matter where they lived and wanted very much to get away from it. They came over to the USA in 1903...perhaps with a strong resolve to never mention their Jewish heritage to anyone, even their children. They were done with all of that. They could put it behind them, right? (If only they had known about the Internet back then. You can run...but never hide). They joined up with other Christian family members in Rochester (more Plotzkers who were decidedly not Jewish) who could help them settle here and start a new life. I would say they got out of Germany at a very good time. Yes...now that I've reflected upon this, I DO believe that they were in Germany at some point, but somehow found their residency to be Poland just previous to coming here. I don't know how...I can only surmise.

Audra had only begun to explain the Pale of Settlement to me when we arrived home in the car. Our conversation ended at that point, but it piqued my curiosity enough so that I started researching it during the last week. I was pretty excited to share my newfound wisdom with you and had just told Audra the other night that you had sent in the DNA test. I thought it would be interesting to see the results, fully expecting to find the percentage of European Jew to be much higher. I had planned to tell you all about my original theory...which I had to tweak a bit in the last 24 hours or so. I still think it might shed some real light on our mysterious Jewish surname.

Only now I find it quite ironic that Mom and Dad decided to bestow honor on a woman who was so nasty to our ancestors and their friends/family by naming the family dog after her! LOL! 😂!*

Love, 

Priscilla. 

*Author's note: when we were kids, we had a high pedigreed dachshund called Kate. Named for Catherine the Great.

Third Time.....

My youngest has made a decision to attend Grove City College in the fall. I am very pleased and a bit excited about her choice. I had wanted to attend this same school when I was looking to transfer to a four year school when I was finishing up my first year at Monroe Community College. I was so disappointed to get waitlisted by GCC. I tossed the idea of looking at Grove City College out to my first two children as a possibility, but never pressed the issue. Allen never even applied. Audra did, got accepted, but decided against it.

Well...the third time is the charm.

The Necessary Fire of Affliction

And when you begin to see that person (someone you love and desire to know Christ deeply) in the middle of a difficult and painful struggle, don’t try to prevent it, but pray that his difficulty will grow even ten times stronger, until no power on earth or in hell could hold him away from Jesus Christ. 

We are indeed amateurs, coming in and actually preventing God’s will and saying, “This person should not have to experience this difficulty.”
~(From tomorrow's Oswald Chambers devotional)

"The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease." John 30:29-30

Recently I have been watching as someone I love struggles. I know that this person needs to go through this. They can't go around it. I hate to see him struggle...I hate to see him hurt...but I know it is necessary. It is the fire of affliction that will bring him closer to Christ. I want him to hear the bridegroom's voice.

I've wanted to take away this person's pain. I've wished I could share some of it in order to lessen his burden, but would that be best? I think of my own fire of affliction and know that it was the best thing I could have gone through. It was the trial that ultimately made me surrender to the will of God. I must step back and allow the Lord to work in this person I love. 

When learning to trust the Lord with all of your heart, you must go through a time when it is difficult to trust. It is a time when you ask, "Lord, where are you?" When you think you can't possibly survive the pain...the loss, the brokenness. That is when you get to the end of yourself and throw yourself at his feet in total surrender.

Trust in the Lord and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight. 
Proverbs 3:5-6

I've been struggling with this one all of my life. Trusting him. And once I get past a rough part...there is another challenge to face. Fire. Quicksand. Flood. Desert. Okay...not literally. I've never faced any of those. I just like figurative speech. I have a thing for analogies and metaphors. 

I finally came to the conclusion that life is not about living happily and comfortably after. It is not about meeting someone special, falling in love, getting a good education and career, buying a house, having a family, saving for a comfortable retirement....And then when you are old, and good and ready to die, you do...but in your sleep without any pain or suffering. It is really about learning to trust the Lord in everything. It is also learning to love those around you.

We all know that life isn't wrapped neatly in beautiful packages and tied with bows. Sometimes when a package is opened, we don't like what we see, we say, "What is this, Lord? I didn't want this one. Can I exchange it for something better?" It reminds me of that old show we used to watch when we were kids. The Price is Right. There were always three doors to choose from. You never knew if you would end up on a cruise in the Bahamas and a brand new sports car or the dud gift-like a lifetime supply of frozen peas. Should you choose door number one? Door number two? Or door number three? There was always a mixture of anticipation and trepidation when we watched contestants make their choice. But...don't get me wrong. I don't think that the Lord is really back stage chuckling at our disappointments. 

If everything fell exactly into place in my life...what would cause me to feel a need for the Lord? Nothing, that's what! I'd have it all together. Life is challenging. We meet new challenges all the time. Jamie and I are facing some of our own. Is this anything unique to the human experience? No. Worldwide, we have that in common with people everywhere facing challenges. There is nothing new under the sun. That is what Solomon wrote in his old age. He had a lifetime to draw wisdom from. I'm getting smarter as the years roll by, but that is not always a consolation.

One consistent truth has come back again and again. "Everything is going to be all right." We've always been taken care of. We always have enough to eat, clothing to wear and money to pay the bills. Even in the face of death- yes...that has happened too. My brother when I was only 16, my father and my mother. In the face of illness...things are going to be all right. In the face of setbacks....things are going to be all right. 

"Because He lives, I can face the future. Because He Lives, all fear is Gone....Because I know He holds the future, and life is worth the living just because He lives." I can hear my father singing this in my memory and it is reassuring. My parents were great people of faith and I will be forever grateful for the examples they were to me.

Googled

Every once in a while I google myself just to see what comes up. This morning I googled my name using its maiden name form and found someone resembling me a little bit. It had my correct age, my childhood home as my current address (haven't lived there in 24 years), and my phone number as the old land line number that Jamie and I had when we were first married (which is no longer connected). But what was most puzzling was the occupation that it listed for me. It listed me as being in a managerial position for Payless Shoes.

Very weird because I've never worked there. I don't even shop there. I've never worked at any shoe store in my life.

Adulting

I think being the parent of adults is quite distressing at times.

Something Needs to Give

I'm really interested in the minimalist lifestyle. I could see myself totally paring down to only the necessities. It's just hard to do when no one else is with me on it. I could even see myself living in a smaller house. Not a tiny house...while I like looking at tiny houses, I'm not interested in living in one. Small, yes....but not tiny. Right now my house isn't even that big. About 1500 square feet.

Today's sermon went right along with what I've been thinking about a lot lately. One thing I did was disable my Facebook account. That was yesterday.

It just seems like I don't do anything that really matters anymore.

Still Breathing.

I haven't written a post in several months. Every time I come here to write, I just stare at the screen...completely speechless.

I'm still here. Moving, living and breathing. God is working in me and my family. He is continuing to teach me...to reveal things to me. It is what I refer to as "year #30." Last night at Bible Study, we had a discussion about spiritual gifts. I've always been told that we all have one. I've wondered what mine is. I believe that my gift is the gift of compassion. However, I don't see that one specifically mentioned in the lists in the Bible.

How do you think we know our gifts? How are they developed?

College Visit

Today we visited Grove City College with our youngest daughter. It was a beautiful sunny fall day with a bit of chill in the air. It was a much nicer tour than we got two years ago with our older daughter. It really is one of the most beautiful college campuses I've ever been on.

More Sadness at My School

I just couldn't bear to write this last night. When I arrived at school yesterday morning, staff members received news that once again a student passed away the night before. Two different students, two separate incidences, 5 days apart.

This time, the student was a senior. It was quite unexpected and shocking. The cause of death has not been revealed to us. Yesterday we were told that an autopsy would be performed.

Please pray for our students, his parents and his siblings.

The Path of Pain and Forgiveness

I've been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting this past year about my life, and I believe that I have come to peace with painful events of the past. Today I stumbled upon a poem by Amy Carmichael which explains my journey during the past 29 years pretty accurately.

In Acceptance Lieth Peace

He said, ‘I will forget the dying faces;
The empty places,
They shall be filled again.
O voices moaning deep within me, cease.’
But vain the word; vain, vain:
Not in forgetting lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will crowd action upon action,
The strife of faction
Shall stir me and sustain;
O tears that drown the fire of manhood cease.’
But vain the word; vain, vain:
Not in endeavour lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will withdraw me and be quiet,
Why meddle in life’s riot?
Shut be my door to pain.
Desire, thou dost befool me, thou shalt cease.’
But vain the word; vain, vain:
Not in aloofness lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will submit; I am defeated.
God hath depleted
My life of its rich gain.
O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease?’
But vain the word; vain, vain:
Not in submission lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will accept the breaking sorrow
Which God tomorrow
Will to His son explain.’
Then did the turmoil deep within me cease.
Not vain the word, not vain;
For in Acceptance lieth peace.

I have come to the conclusion that the illness I suffered in college was planned by the Lord and that the subsequent events that followed this illness were all supposed to happen. It all went down according to the plan. This idea was first presented to me by a Christian psychologist that I went to see about 15 years ago. I thought that sounded impossible to be true and so I rejected her words. Consequently I wrestled with pain and unforgiveness for several more years. I reasoned that something so wrong and terrible couldn't possibly be part of God's plan for me. However, I have come full circle. By saying that it was all a mistake and that it wasn't supposed to happen implies that it somehow slipped by God, that He was asleep on the job, or that He really isn't in control of the world. If He is in control, but I still think that it was all terrible, then I am forced to believe that God is actually quite cruel.

No. I believe that God is good and that He is in control. I believe that we are given trials to develop our faith and character. It sounds so cliche...but I see its truth in my life. I believe there are certain paths that we are destined for....but I also believe that the Lord gives us choices along that path. I don't profess to have it all figured out. There is a certain mystery to it all. This is where true faith develops. I'll never totally understand the answer to, "Why did that need to happen?" Accepting that I won't understand it during this lifetime and deciding that it is okay that I don't understand has helped.

The other "aha moment" that brought about this change was learning to see my mother as human. One who makes mistakes. I recognize that she carried a tremendous amount of pain in her heart about things that happened in her life too. She was also someone who was good. She was a godly woman who was mostly a blessing to me. I was far more blessed by her than the opposite....but Satan wants to cloud my memory regarding her. I am also a human who make mistakes. God's grace is sufficient enough to cover my own sin. He has forgiven me and He has forgiven her. For me to not forgive her (or anyone else) is to have the arrogance to believe that I know better than God does. That is just more sin on my part.

This past winter, I went to Prayer Central at my church. It is a room that you can go to after any of the services to ask for prayer. I went there to ask for prayer regarding my unforgiveness towards my mother. I didn't tell them my entire story, but I told them that I felt very angry towards my mother because 28 years earlier, she had hurt me very deeply. It took me several years to put all of the pieces together in order to figure out what happened all those years ago. So I went to Prayer Central and told the woman there that I needed help getting past this. It seemed to me that this was the last ugly black talon that Satan had my heart pierced with. This woman prayed for me. She prayed that the Lord would help me get to the point of acceptance...that I would look back on my life and see this as something that just simply happened, and that I would no longer have the bondage of anger that came with it. I thought to myself, "Yes, Lord. This is what I want...to see it as something that simply happened...without all of the anger about it."

I believe that I have finally reached this point. I am not fool enough to believe that the enemy won't attack again, but he has lost this battle. I shared this, because I know there are many people who have hurts and anger over things that happened to them that were not entirely fair. I hope I can encourage at least one other person to find acceptance for what happened to them and to be able to forgive those who wronged them.

Sad Day at Wayne

This morning I got to work to find out that one of our students died early this morning from injuries sustained in a car crash last night. He was a junior...age 17. He was 2 months younger than my own daughter. I'm heartbroken for his family. He was new to our district. I don't know if he had any siblings, but I only saw his mom listed as a parent. He was driving the car that crashed. No one else was in the car at the time and no other vehicles were involved.

I just talked to this student last week when he came into our library and signed out a book. I remember our short and seemingly insignificant conversation. You just never know when you will talk to someone for the last time. It's a reminder that the way we treat one another is so important. I'm glad my last conversation with him was not scolding him for something really trivial. I try not to do that with students anyway, but sometimes I've disappointed myself. This is a good reminder regarding that. Librarians can have a reputation for being crabby. I try to break that stereotype all the time.

Upon hearing the news, I immediately went into our circulation system, marked the book as lost, and removed the fine. I just don't want an overdue reminder or bill to be accidentally sent to his mom. Who cares about a book in light of this tragedy?

Beaver Camp Fun-Summer of 2016

This is the camp my daughter worked at this summer. Check her out at 1:38-1:43. She's also at 2:38-2:40...and a few other minor appearances that are quick. I'm really grateful for this camp. My kids went here as campers and 2 of them have worked here. Beaver Camp has made a profound impact on them spiritually.

The CBS Question that Stopped Me in My Tracks

This post was originally created on February 12, 2016...but I kept it as a draft. I think it is very insightful and that is why I'm publishing it today. I had published it one time before...but changed my mind. Besides that, it was buried in the archives where no one was likely to read it and comment. As the Lord gives me these insightful truths, it brings leaps of healing. I hope it can help and inspire someone else.


I wrote this post over a month ago...but was too self conscious to post it. I don't like people to know my personal struggles. I've been thinking about this post...especially since the anniversary of this loss is rolling closer. February is a difficult month for me. I struggle with Valentine's Day. I even told my husband once that I hate Valentine's Day and that I don't want to celebrate it. Buy me chocolate and flowers on any other day of the year....but don't buy it on that day. He hasn't always listened to this advice.

Anyway...in my quest to be more honest about myself, I've decided to post it after all.
.........

“You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭51:16-17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

.....

For personal thought: which of the previously mentioned offerings would most involve genuine sacrifice on your part? Why? (Community Bible Study, Study guide for the book of Mark. Page 170)

The offerings mentioned:

• a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart (Psalm 51:16-17....the verse written out above in red)
• praise (Hebrew 13:15-16)
• mercy and acknowledgment of God (Hosea 6:6)
• our bodies and mind (Romans 12:1-2)

I stared at the question for several minutes while I considered each one of the choices, trying to decide what my answer would be.  I came to the first choice: the broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart. "Well...I've gotten that one down," I thought to myself. I was about to look at the next choice when a second thought came into my mind. "But do you? Do you really have that one down?" I stopped and thought about it. I decided that I don't have that one down at all.

That one seems to be giving me the most difficulty. It seems like I actually hold onto my broken heart and my broken spirit. When I sense it slipping away...I grip it a little tighter...being afraid to let it go. I can't seem to sacrifice it entirely. Or is it that I won't sacrifice it? Perhaps I am afraid of losing the little bit I have left of something long ago lost. Really? Is that it? I can tell myself that this is foolish and faulty thinking. Do I really want this pain in my life? No! I hate it!

Then why can't I get rid of it? Why can't I just sacrifice it and be done with it? I know it is wrong...and yet I hold onto it. I can't...or won't really let it go. How do I put something on the alter that I have held onto for so long? There have been times when I've thought it is gone...but then there it is, back in my grip again. Must it always be a continual sacrifice? Again and again? Can't I just sacrifice it once and for all? Why must I see it once again in my possession?

I don't seem to have this one down at all.

"Oh, Heavenly Father. I sacrifice it to you. I lay it on the alter! I don't want it anymore!  It is yours."

On Being Wounded

I have been listening to the Chronicles of Narnia series on audio. I read it aloud to the kids when they were little...and decided it was time for someone to read it to me.

I've always known about the Christian symbolism in the book, but somehow it has hit me anew while listening to The Horse and His Boy. There is one part of the book where a lion attacks Aravis while she is riding on Hwin. She ends up with scratches from the lion's claws down her back. She is laid up with these wounds for some time afterwards. Later on in the book, Shasta discovers that it was Aslan who wounded Aravis. He asks Aslan why he would do such a thing. Aslan answers that he will only tell Shasta his own story, not Aravis's story.

I have a story. I have been wounded. As I look back at my life, I see indications that the Lord knew what was going to happen to me all along. He knows my story even better than I do. I couldn't prevent my deep wounds from happening even though it seemed as though I should have been able to. I wanted to set the record straight with those who misunderstood me, but the Lord would not allow me to. He closed the doors time and time again and sometimes didn't open the doors at all.

 I really believe that He wounded me. I have gotten into discussions about this very topic in the past with people who disagree. They would say, "Oh no. The Lord never wounds, but he only allows us to be wounded." I disagree because the scriptures mention that the Lord afflicts. (Psalm 119:75) Besides that, if He doesn't do it...then is He asleep on the job when it happens? Does He hire the devil to do his dirty work? Is He actually a cruel God who stands by and watches us get hurt without coming to our defense? No! Of course not.

God is good. He is just. He has purposes that we don't understand. It really was His plan that I be terribly misunderstood and consequently rejected by people I loved deeply. I don't know if I'll ever understand the reasons why on this side of eternity. I am coming closer than ever to being totally at peace about this. I know the truth is that it was supposed to happen.

Here is a quote that I love from the book. It occurs while Shasta is speaking to a mysterious traveling companion after getting lost in a fog. He concludes that he is the most unlucky boy. This is what Aslan says to him:

"I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."

He has greater purposes for the "misfortunes" that we encounter during our lives. He is working in ways that we are not aware of. I'm getting closer. Yes...I am.

I only now ask for your prayers that the ruminating about it would stop. It sounds easy to others to simpy stop thinking about it...but it isn't easy. It is like my thoughts automatically gravitate towards this deep groove running through my mind. I would appreciate your prayers about this.

My Beautiful Children

It has been a while since I have been here. Allen and Audra are home from college. In June, Audra will be going to Beaver Camp up in the Adirondacks. She will spend the summer working as a life guard and camp counselor. Allen had planned on going to Colorado to work on maintaining trails in the Rockies, but his plans have changed. Instead, he will be staying here for the summer. He already has gotten a job with a landscaping company. He will start on June 1st. In the meantime, he has gone up to Beaver Camp to work for a few days. This coming weekend he will be driving to NC to join his ultimate frisbee team in a tournament. Next week, his girlfriend is coming here for a visit. She lives outside of Chicago. Alicia and I haven't met her yet. Jamie met her when he went to IWU to pick up Audra.

This weekend was Alicia's junior prom. This is my favorite picture of all!

Winter Hike 2016

Every year my husband and son, along with Ed (a family friend) go on a winter hike in the Adirondack Mountains.
Allen is now up to 42 high peaks. Only 4 more to go to become a 46er! Jamie is up to 9 high peaks.

They hiked 2 high peaks. Tabletop and Colden.

Here are Allen and Jamie on Mt Colden. Allen has hiked to the top of this mountain before, so only added one new high peak on this trip. Both Jamie and Ed added two. That is Mt. Marcy in the background.  They had a great time. I picked them up from the thruway exit on Monday night around 7:30. I'm proud of them!

Devotional Blog

You should check out my devotional blog. Click on the butterfly in the margin on the right. It is so much better than the fluff I write on this blog.

And now, the 2016 list of 51 things you might not know about me

I can't get motivated to work on the story I started.

I just found this old post and decided to try it again. So here we go again....51 things about me that three people will read. And 2 out of 3 people who read my blog are my sisters...so it will be very boring for them.

1. I feel things so deeply that my heart still aches even years later.
2. I wish that wasn't the case....but I suppose that it makes me much more sensitive to the feelings of others.
3. I remember details of events that happened as far back as my childhood.
4. I'm usually good at and have an innate sense of direction...except for when I don't.
5. Consequently, I don't fear getting lost...even if I am driving somewhere that I have never been to.
6. In college, during my undergrad, I studied mathematics...which was a totally wrong major for me. During this time, I figured out that I really wasn't a mathematician. Rather, I was a person who was fairly good at memorizing formulas and then plugging in numbers to get an answer. (Okay...maybe I was a little better than that, but not much)
7. I was very stressed out about #6, but I was suffering from a mental illness and surviving that took all of my energy. I had nothing left to figure out a better major.
8. I cannot figure out how I passed some of the classes I took during that dark period of time...particularly during the spring of 87. I am positive that I should have failed my linear algebra class.
9. I am melancholic and I hate it! 
10. I'm a pretty good cook. I have even made up recipes that have turned out to be delicious.
11. I've never been much of a baker. I leave that to Martha.
12. I miss being a stay at home mom.
13. But I DO love my job and I feel very blessed to have found something that fits me so well.
14. I hate the television show: Shark Tank. (It's on right now.) My husband loves it. I think I hate it because I know that if I ever was on that show, I would be chewed up and spit out by the millionaires on the panel. Especially by "Mr Wonderful" who I can't stand because he is so mean!
15. I can't eat very creamy food....which makes me sad because I love ice cream.
16. I have given up eating meat that comes from animals that walk on four legs.
17. I take 150 mg of bupropion daily. If I don't take it, I turn into a depressed recluse.
18. I shouldn't write a list of 51 things when I am in a melancholic mood.
19. On the last list I wrote, in 2006...For #32, I wrote "I won't go to a high school reunion." Well...I went to one this past summer and I had fun!
20. I can speak and understand some Spanish, but I am not fluent.
21. I really want another dog. I think it would be therapeutic for me.
22. I married someone who is not a dog person! This is very frustrating to me!
23. In spite of #6 above, I had absolutely no trouble subbing for a geometry class at Pal-Mac HS two years ago and even went over a proof with them on the board.
24. I subbed for a trigonometry class next and couldn't remember a thing! I was useless!
25. I always wanted to be in a musical during HS, but never did it. I was finally in a major production when I was 29. I was in the chorus. My husband had the lead.
26. I can't go anywhere with my husband where he does not run into someone he knows. I sometimes get annoyed by this.
27. I love Nicciolata. It is the best. If you haven't tried it, you're missing out. I suggest that you buy a jar and enjoy a spoonful from time to time.
28. I love Mexican food.
29. My hair is curly. It never was curly until I was in my 30s. I like it.
30. The problem with having curly hair (and being the only one in the family with curly hair) is that if someone finds it in the food, you can't pretend it isn't yours.
31. I suffer from insomnia very often. 
32. Luckily I have learned to function fairly well on little sleep...which is interesting considering that on my list in 2006, I claim to absolutely need 8 hours of sleep. I've adapted out of necessity.
33. I hate chocolate bars with coconut in them. Coconut does not belong in any candy!
34. When presented with a box of chocolates, I usually end up with the one with coconut in it or something just as gross.
35. I think that all of the chocolates in a box of chocolates should have caramel in them. Don't waste my time with all the others.
36. My life verse is Job 23:10. 
37. I sometimes stalk people on the Internet. I'm admitting this because I am fairly sure that most people do this from time to time.
38. I wonder if anyone ever stalks me on me Internet.
39. I sometimes Google myself to see what comes up.
40. I wish I was more adventurous. I'm a bit envious of people who are. You would think that I could just make myself be more adventurous, but I can't seem to successfully do that. I'm very cautious. It is my downfall.
41. I would like to go to Europe. I never expected to reach age 49 without ever getting there yet.
42. I DID make it to South America and I'd like to go again.
43. I can't wear high heeled shoes. It's that trick toe again. (See #20 from 2006) I even have trouble with some flat ones. The cuter and more feminine the shoe, the less likely I am able to wear it without trouble.
44. I am doomed to wear old lady shoes some day.
45. I learned to cook simply by watching my mother in the kitchen. When I got married, there were things that I had never made before, but I made them just as if I had because I had watched my mother do it hundreds of times.
46. My kids never wanted to spend any time with me in the kitchen. This made me sad while they were growing up because I always thought cooking would be an activity I shared with them. I'm worried that they won't know how to cook when they need to some day.
47. When I was graduating from high school, several people suggested that I study library science because I worked at our town's public library. I thought they were crazy! I swore that I would never do it.
48. Becoming a librarian was a very good decision for me. It fits me very well and I am very happy in this profession.
49. I'm still surprised and amused that I have a masters degree and career in my middle age. I never would have dreamed that I would accomplish that. Wow! Who knew?
50. I have tinnitus. In both ears. It usually doesn't bother me until I am in a quiet room. Recently, I've started going to sleep with white noise playing. It helps a lot. I put it on a timer that is timed to turn off two hours after it starts.
51. I typically play ocean waves as my white noise. it in no way makes me think or even imagine that I'm on a beach.

And that, my friends, is my 2016 list of 51 things you didn't know about me! Ten years after the other one! So much has changed in 10 years...but I would say that the old list is still about 84% true. I'm still somewhat of a math geek (but not a true mathematician) in that I actually went through the list, counted the number of things that are no longer true, and figured that percentage out.

Do Angels Ever Sit on Bladders?...A Camping Story

When I was a child, we used to go camping as a family. We camped in a Bethany trailer camper, which was really a tent on wheels. I have lovingly stolen the picture below from my sister Martha's blog. I don't feel guilty, because it is really my father's photo...as he was the one who took it.

I am the little girl in the red. Martha is the little girl on the far left, and the other child is my sister Rachel. That is my mother with us.

I'm not sure what year it was, but it was an unseasonably cold summer night. I was about 7 I think. We were camping and getting ready to snuggle into our sleeping bags for the night. It was so chilly that my father had brought along a small kerosene space heater. He put it on the floor of the camper so it would generate some heat for us and we went to bed.

It was the middle of the night when I woke up with a very full bladder. I didn't want to get up. It was cold, I just wanted to sleep,...and besides that, the camp bath building was a hike down dark, scary trails. I didn't want to wake either of my parents up. I tried to ignore the sensation. It didn't get any better, that's for sure. I finally decided that I would need to get up and make the necessary trip to the camp bathroom. I climbed out of my sleeping bag and then over the top of my sleeping sister Martha. I made it to the floor of the camper. Everyone else was fast asleep. It was then that I noticed that my sister's pillow had fallen down. I picked it up and tossed it back onto the sleeping platform that she and I shared. I started looking for my shoes and thinking about waking up one of my parents so I wouldn't have to walk alone in the dark.

Suddenly I noticed that while I still had to go to the bathroom, the physical discomfort didn't seem nearly as bad as it had when I had first woken up out of a deep sleep. I didn't think I really needed to bother with the trip after all. I was sure I could hold it until morning, so I left my shoes where they were and once again climbed up over my still sleeping sister, and settled into my sleeping bag. I was comfortably dreaming in no time.

The next morning, we were all up and getting ready to start a new day. Mom started rolling up the sleeping bags and setting up the table that folded down into a sleeping platform. Dad was out starting a fire so breakfast could be cooked, and coffee made for him and Mom. Suddenly, I heard Mom gasp in alarm and ask, "What happened to this?! Who did this!?" She was holding up the pillow I had picked up in the middle of the night. It had dark brown scorch marks on it. I still remember that they were in the shape of the mesh covering that formed the top of the space heater. I was a little afraid to answer her. I thought maybe I had done something wrong.

"Who put this up here?" She asked again. Martha acknowledged that it was her pillow, but she didn't know what had happened to it. I finally fessed up. I told her how I had gotten up in the middle of the night because I had to go to the bathroom really really bad. I told her how I had seen the pillow and knew it had fallen.I just put it back up onto the platform, tossing it toward the end of our sleeping bags...where our short little bodies couldn't reach.

I'll never forget what my mother said next. "Priscilla, that was an angel who woke you up! If you hadn't picked this pillow up, it would have soon burst into flames and we would have all died in a fire!" This left such a big impression on me. A guardian angel had woken me up in the middle of the night. God had used me to save my family from an impending disaster.

Years later while I was in college, I tried to relay this story to some friends. They missed the point and focused on the notion that an angel supposedly had made me feel as though I had to go to the bathroom urgently. They poked fun about it. They made my story seem silly. I don't even think I ended up telling them the rest of it. They had made me feel foolish.

Who's to say that the Lord wouldn't ever send an angel to make a little girl feel like she must get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night in order to save her and her family from certain calamity? Why not?

(Post Script: that was the end of using space heaters in the camper)