Opinions

“I don’t even know what game we’re supposed to be playing!” my husband, Peter, told me.

“You could live on a dollar and 27 cents a day,” the husband once said to me, shaking his head. I was packing a small cooler for a trip to Alabama. I knew I’d arrive at dark and would not feel like grocery shopping for orange juice and milk, so I poured small amounts into plastic containers and packed them among ice. I added a baggie of Raisin Bran cereal and a bunch of green grapes.

It’s common in this modern age for religious seekers to comb the Bible for passages that promise endless blessings. People love to hear messages about God protecting His children from danger and suffering, and how He wants to give us everything we dream about. The problem is this is not exactly why the Christian life was established. Christians should read and study the Bible daily, while keeping everything in context is critical to understanding more clearly to what God is saying. It’s true that He loves us, but even in His endless compassion, He did not promise this life would be a bed of luxury while servants wait on us and we never have any pain or a need to have unwavering faith.

It’s that time of year again when we have our seniors graduating and heading on to their next stage of life. With all of these commencement ceremonies taking place this month, there will be a lot of advice given. In fact, at Ennis High School’s graduation, I was encouraged by the words of our valedictorian, Layton Wilder. I loved his challenge to his fellow graduates to heed the words of Jesus in Matthew 7 and to build their lives on rock, not sand.

As my cousin read aloud our Grandmother’s Brunswick Stew recipe, I enjoyed all the imagery it evoked, not to mention the aromatic recollection of that stew which was prepared with chicken, pork, tomatoes and corn in a turnof- the-century kitchen that always smelled heavenly. Interestingly enough, the recipe begins with, “Wring the chicken’s neck…” That’s when I usually walk away from the memory and wonder if somebody—anybody—could make me some Brunswick Stew, or Camp Stew, as we usually called it…without the manual labor my grandmother invested.

The thrill associated with rollercoasters is enough to make normal people question their choice of food or beverage, not to mention their seat selection in boarding the train of cars.

My Aunt Ruthie used to make the best pickles ever.

I was leaving the grocery store with a family pack of chicken thighs, two pounds of fresh okra and 16 oz. of cheddar cheese. It was Monday, before 10 a.m. It was also breezy, before the rain found us.

There are some groups you just don’t mess with. Military veterans, steel workers, women, truckers, old people and coffee drinkers. A couple of weeks ago our President Joe Biden made the mistake of telling an unfounded story to the first two groups while campaigning in Pennsylvania. Blue collar folks are not to be trifled with. Even if they like you, their antennas sense bull faster than a lotto-winner making friends.