Games Without Shame

Time to fess up. I like to play computer games. What, that's not enough of a confession for you? All right, here's more. I like to win.

I recently came upon a site that has wonderful, addicting, educational games. By spending a few minutes there, you can improve your vocabulary, grammar, geography, or foreign language skills. There's no beginning nor end to the games, you just jump in and play for as long as you want, then pop back out of the site. It's one of those things you can do while you're stuck on "hold" and can't leave your desk.

Not only are the games easy and compelling, but the site is very attractive. The background is a verdant field of rice. The whole picture is relaxing and gentling to the mind.

But, wait! There's more!

The games are intentionally addicting, purposed to get your attention and hold it so that you might also notice the quiet little ad banners below. There had to be a commercial catch, right?

But, wait! There's more!

For every correct answer, one grain of rice is donated to the United Nations World Food Programme. Food for the hungry. All for the click of a mouse! That's the nicest kind of advertising I've ever seen. When you play these games, you can make a difference.

A word of instruction: Click on the square FreeRice logo at right, not the large vertical banner in this post. You can find the list of game subjects by clicking on "subjects" at the top of the FreeRice page. The English vocabulary game pops up as the default, but there's a nice variety available if you peruse the possibilities.



P.S. to Frau Fitz, Mrs. St. Clair, Mr. Finseth, Mr. Anderson, and Mr. Sturdivant:
Thank you for preparing me with the basic knowledge I would need to compete in these subjects today. I'm amazed at how much I recall after, um, a lotta years.

The Beautiful Palouse Region

About 20 years ago, my husband and I lived in the Palouse area of Washington state. I have many wonderful memories of this season of our lives, and the scenery of the countryside evokes strong emotions in me to this day. I wrote this piece on one of those homesick days, to share my memories with a friend. Do an image search after you read this, and see how close your mental image is to some of the real thing.


I miss the rolling hills of the Palouse country. I enjoyed the pace and the common ground (pun intended) of a community with one main occupation to support. I liked the change of seasons -- not just the weather, but the activities and demands. The seasons flowed gently from one to the next, and it was good.

I never tired of driving through and looking at the Palouse hills. The roads wound gently between the hills, meandering in the general direction you wanted to go. The Palouse region of Washington is the only place on earth, I think, where wheat is grown on rolling hills. It requires special rigging on the tractors to be able to ride the hills and keep the implements down in the soil. The farmers drive the tractors around the hills, not straight over them, so the view from the air is almost a topographic-map design.

The furrows looked like plain brown corduroy, until the wheat started to grow. Winter wheat would sprout early and the fields would just barely begin to turn a little bit greenish. Then the wheat would get a little taller and you'd definitely see the green. When the grass was a few inches tall, the wind would make waves across the fields, up and down the hills. Then the stalks would get stronger and didn't wave, but grew taller and fuller.

Towards the end of summer, the wheat dried out and began to die. It was always good to see the change in color, because then we could start hoping for a good harvest.

The not-so-pretty time was right after harvest when the fields were all stubble and dirt clumped together. No more neat rows of corduroy, but chopped up rows interrupted by clods and upside-down stubble. Some fields would lie fallow over the winter, and they looked scruffy like that until they were plowed in the spring. But the fields that were planted with winter wheat were groomed and made into smooth brown corduroy again in the fall.

Snow added more interest to the patterns. A light snow would melt off the tops of the rows, while each little furrow-valley stayed white. Striped corduroy. When there was more snow, it covered everything with a winter white blanket, insulating the sprouts of winter wheat and protecting them. Eventually the snow would melt wherever the sun hit it all day, making random crescents of brown along the hills and curves.

The sidehills had strips where a hill crested too steeply to be able to plow it. The farmer would leave a little grass along the top of a hill, just below the acme, and it had a sort of eyebrow shape. Sometimes people would plant sunflowers in these, just for fun, but nothing invasive that would try to intrude in the wheat crop.

The Palouse is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. It was my privilege to live there for a while.

The Selfishness of Prayer?

I prayed for someone today. I prayed because I was worried about her. I prayed because there was nothing else I could do.

I prayed because I knew it would make me feel better.

Wow, how selfish is that? But it's the truth. Sure, I was praying for her ultimate well-being, but I was led to pray because I was worried about her immediate well-being and I wanted relief for me.

Is there anything Scriptural about that? Any defense? Maybe. What if God alerted me to her need... and what if it was His will that I pray for her? The little bit of knowledge (and the extras my imagination couldn't keep from adding) caused me to feel a strong emotional pull toward this person. There were no words I could share, no comfort I could extend, nothing I could do to help her. The anxiety I felt on her behalf kept increasing, but there was no outlet for it except prayer.

I know it's His desire that we pray for one another. My worry compelled me to do the only thing I could do, so I found another believer and we interceded together. It would have felt good to know the rest of the story, to know how our friend was doing. We didn't have access to any more information, so we presented her needs to the One who has all access, all the time. He knows. He cares. And it's okay that we feel a little better as we continue to pray and wait.

With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints...


UPDATE: Continuing in prayer. While Saturday's prayer break helped me to feel better, the need is still great. Still no details, but God knows.