Re.cog.ni.zance

Definition of RECOGNIZANCE
1
a : an obligation of record entered into before a court or magistrate requiring the performance of an act (as appearance in court) usually under penalty of a money forfeiture





During high school days in the good old days in Nigeria, students delighted in using big words, both in spoken and written English. Grabbing a dictionary to fish out the meaning of jaw breakers, as some of these words were called, was common practice. During debates, big words thrown out by debaters were carefully noted and researched afterwards and added to the stockpile of big grammar by students who loved using big words. Using big words was the in thing in those days and people took pride in throwing out heavy-sounding words.

The big words were also shared in letters between friends. There were no telephones for calls or texting in those days and young people actually communicated through letter writing. In those days also, letters did not disappear in the mail, even when they came from overseas, usually from pen pals, whose cursive handwriting were a challenge to read. Many years later when my children started learning to write cursive, it dawned on me that people were not born with the ability to write cursive. It is actually a tedious task, carefully learned and mastered. Most schools do not teach children how to write cursive anymore and that in my opinion is a loss.

I remember coming across the word recognizance a few times in those high school days, but I never took the time to look up the meaning and I had a vague idea what the word meant based on its use.

Fast forward to 1994, in a big room packed with parents, students, teachers and school board officials at the county recreation center, who gathered for the county spelling bee contest. Children, champions from their schools, had gathered to contest for the champion who would represent the county at the next level, leading up to state and then the national championship. Elementary and middle school children up to eighth grade were involved in the contest.

It was a heated contest, as the children spelled their best and each time a student was eliminated, the disappointment registered right away on the face of the child, followed by relief, resignation, or continued disappointment, depending on the reaction of supporters in the audience. .

My 9 year old son, a fifth grader at the time, was involved, representing his school at the spelling bee contest. He was the youngest among the group of contestants. His siblings and I helped him prepare for the contest. Being an avid reader, he read books and newspapers all the time and had good spelling skills. We helped him practise the list of words given to him, but there were so many words that it was very hard to go through all the words. He knew he was under no pressure whatsoever to win, all he had to do was to work hard and do his best at the contest. Putting in his best was the expectation.

We decided that his best strategy would be a relaxed state of mind. Being totally relaxed and at home would help him visualise words, think about them and then attempt to spell them by sound. It was also suggested to him to ask for a repetition and the definition of a word if he was not sure of the meaning, and that would also buy him time to reflect on the word and then spell it. We went over the strategy time and again.

Equipped with prayer for a safe drive to the venue for all the competitors, the game plan, and a full stomach, we left for the venue, a twenty minute drive from home. His siblings, after wishing him well, were dropped off at school and daycare and we drove to the center, relaxed. The large room was full and the champions were invited to the seats reserved for them at the front of the room and the grilling started. Words, familiar words, unfamiliar words, long words, short words, simple words, difficult words, were thrown at the children by the announcer and some unlucky children got very hard words and ended up being eliminated in their first try.

Before long, the number of contestants dropped to a handful of spellers and the excitement rose. Each time the boy had a turn, he would throw a quick glance in his mother's direction, make eye contact, and she would nod in agreement, as if to say, " go for it", and he would spell and then throw another quick glance for her to acknowledge his success. He was lucky to get words he knew how to spell. Then it came to a point where only two students were left and it happened to be that the youngest two in the group were left, both fifth graders.

The room was filled with palpable apprehension. The children did not seem as nervous as the grownups. They kept spelling words until one of them slipped and the last, final word was announced, which the possible winner would spell and if correctly spelled, another word would be given, and if that word was spelled correctly, a winner would emerge. The skinny nine-year old stood there as the crowd focused on him. There was total silence, one could hear a pin drop.

He spelled his word correctly and after the applause came the final word, which if spelled correctly would make him the champion. Again there was total silence.

The announcer pronounced the word and there was a soft moan in the room.

RE.COG.NI.ZANCE

The boy stared in front of him, and then a quick glance in his mother's direction. She nodded in agreement, and he politely asked for a definition of the word. He listened carefully as the announcer repeated the word and defined it, adding that a definition may not really help. The boy reflected on the word and then slowly spelled it, just the way it sounded to him. There was total silence when he finished spelling the word. Then came a word from the announcer---


Correct.

There was a few seconds of silence and then applause. The boy looked in his mother's direction and there she was standing up clapping for him. A big smile, as big as the smile on his mother's face, spread across his face.. As he was congratulated by his peers and the adults, he was polite and humble and all that really mattered to him was the fact that his mother was there,and supported and applauded him. He was very happy and upbeat about that. Even when the newspaper published his winning and published the wrong word, he did not care. Even when he was out spelled at the next level, he was not bothered, he had given it his best and that was all that mattered.

In life, winning and winning at all cost, sometimes gets in the way of allowing God to do his will in our lives. Pulling back from it all, surrendering everything to God, everything, knowing fully well that God is in control, both in good times and in bad times, and that he has paid the bail to buy his people freedom, makes a lot of sense.
God is always there to cheer us on. Trusting him and acknowledging his cheering helps when the journey becomes almost impossible.
One can then live life in total freedom and peace and try to spread that love and peace to others, both friendly and unfriendly others, hardly an easy task to carry out, armed with that knowledge.
Knowing fully well that the freedom and peace enjoyed by believers (recognizors) is not earned or deserved, but rather given through the total love of God, helps in navigating through life, until the day of the call to the great beyond, which is as sure as the sun rising every morning.
To God be all glory. Amen.


22It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
23They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.


Lamentations 3:22-23
King James Version (KJV)

Water

Serene,Calming.
Peaceful as in the womb.
Giving life.
Sustaining life.
Restoring life.
Rrefreshing,Soothing.
Cooling
On hot dry days.
Tasteless, yet sweet
as honeycomb.

Reviving life when dehydrated.
Satisfying, when quenching thirst.
Bringing back all life after a drought.
Flowing.
Sparkling, crystal clear
yet can be very deep.
Water.
Beckoning,Nourishing,
Mesmerizing.

But then--
How can such a blessing
Bring on such a tensing
And agony
Unimaginable.
Ravishing and yet
Ravaging
In floods,tsunamis, rainstorms,
Mudslides, ice storms,hailstorms,
thunderstorms.
Storms on the high sea,
Even at fun times at
Recreation.
Water strikes
One way or the other
Leaving devastation
and destruction,
and sorrow in one breath.
Bringing on drowning and loss of life.
Sudden death.

Snatching away loved ones
without prior notice.
In the bat of an eye
Worlds come crashing down.
Lives and dreams cast down
To be lost for ever.
Leaving broken hearts
Totally unprepared
for
The cruel dreams,
Very bad dreams,
Nightmares.
Only there's no waking up
In a panicked sweat.
Already wide eyed with
Stinging rivers flowing down.
Faces, ashen with grief.
More tortured grief
Deep down.

What brings some relief
To the burning, weary eyes
and faces ---

Water.

Chinwe Enemchukwu
July 15 2011


Almighty God, please bring comfort, the way only you can,deep down.

Gardening, The Spaghetti squash----- Great for You.

Gardening season is here and gardeners are having a great time. Watching crops grow is fun, despite the lack of rainfall in some areas.
Early morning weeding and thinning gives a boost which lasts all day and then evening watering to soothe the crops after the day long scorching heat. The crops continue to flourish and against the odds and the gardener flourishes as well.

Yesterday, after driving around searching for a gas station to take refuge under, to escape the rain of hail pounding on the car like a panel beater, I got home to find out that the rainstorm did not go north enough to soak my garden. The heavy rainfall with hail drenched parts of central Florida and left the rest still bone dry, with brittle grass and dust.

The sight at the Hess filling station where I sought refuge was hilarious. Other motorists were doing the same thing I was trying to do, and the space under the covered portion filled up up quickly and the left over cars scrambled for spots under oak trees around the station. The pounding on my car continued even after getting refuge under the tree.
Resigning to whatever happens was the only alternative left for those who scrambled in vain. I could see drivers with bewildered looks in their eyes as the hail continued raining on cars.
I had to laugh at myself as I parked under the oak tree with hardly any protection. In short, I gave up and prayed for safety as lightning and thunder added to the excitement of the hailstorm. Excitement bordering on fear, with the background of what happened two weeks ago with tornadoes in some states. One cannot help but feel so vulnerable.

The storm according to the radio station was moving at five miles per hour and with that, it took about thirty minutes for the storm to pass. I filled up and went home expecting to see the grass soaked with rain and my crops watered for me, but to my surprise, the rain did not even cross the county line, how much more get close to my area. The grass was as dry as ever, the dust trail followed the car on the driveway, confirming the dryness was not touched. For all the pounding the car took,not a drop of water on the the garden.

The crops are still very young and holding up very well while the established crops, onugbu, nchu anwu and basil/curry are doing great. Also are the Spaghetti squash which planted themselves or rather grew where they were thrown in the compost pile and flourished. Being in a compost pile, they spread quickly and before long started flowering and bearing fruit.
I am not crazy about spaghetti squash per se, but the vigor with which they are growing made me excited about them. I had made the spaghetti squash for my mom to help keep her blood sugar within normal limits and keep her weight down. I served it with tomato and vegetable stew, usually spinach and sometimes with Jack mackerel or salmon. Other times, I served it with split green peas and and stew. Without the stew or peas, the squash had no taste and is stringy like spaghetti, and not soft. I did not like it too much although I did not search for other recipes for making it.

The seeds I threw in the compost pile germinated and spread out over the compost pile and beyond. Working in the garden this morning, after jogging to get back in shape, I counted fifteen heads of squash scattered over the squash plot, in various sizes, from new ones to football sized heads which will be ready for harvest in a matter of days, maybe few weeks.
I have to find a way to eat them and store them and that's when I started searching for recipes for spaghetti squash. With a few pounds to shed, and the tight economy, the squash will be a blessing indeed along with the other crops. Summer looks very promising for a bountiful harvest, if judging from the harvest off the plum tree and the flaming yellow flowers on the silk oak tree a few weeks ago.
It looks like the winter cold spell was just right this year and the fruit trees and plants are doing very well. I remember from years ago in the homeland,when a good harmattan spell predicted good flowering and fruit yields.

Gardening is becoming more popular as more people grow gardens to help put food on the table. I had no idea so many other people are growing some of their own food until I listened to a radio program the other day and found that it was becoming popular. Thanks to the bad economy and hardship. Gardening is fun, refreshing and gives one something to look forward to. The work, the results of the work and the harvest are great rewards and offers the opportunity for sharing.
It is hard to put in words, the satisfaction that comes from gardening, especially in the cool morning hours, before the sun is up and the air is fresh and the world is quiet. What a great time for reflecting, and renewing and refreshing of the mind.

With the profuse flowering and fruiting of the spaghetti squash, I cannot wait to see exactly what this plant has in store. In the meantime, I will just wait and see, and look up recipes for spaghetti squash. Other great squash are the buttercup, which is my favorite, and the zucchini. Those are coming up, looking great.
For gardening enthusiasts, the spaghetti squash is one vegetable to try this year. It is amazing to see those heads of squash scatter all over the place. Quite amazing and pleasing. Thanks to God for His blessings, the opportunity to plant and harvest being one of them.
Community gardens are available in some cities where people get small plots free of charge. Give it a try and enjoy the benefits and harvest. Bon Appetit.

Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu.

Check this link.

/encrypted.google.com/search?hl=en&source=hp&biw=1304&bih=707&q=spaghetti+squash&aq=f&aqi=g10&aql=&oq=

Reflecting on Psalm 23-4

We are never alone
Even when we are alone
Even while on a slippery path
We are never left alone.
Travelling life's byways,
Passing through rough terrain
Or thrust on bad highways
We are not alone.
In times of tribulation
Or even persecution,
We are not alone.
Just as He promised
Never to leave nor forsake us,
We are never alone.
Our heavenly father is always there,
His presence surrounds us,
Reaching every depth of our being.
His love envelopes what is His
At all times, filling lives with
Peace and serenity.
We are never alone
Having a God and father
of Infinity.

We are never alone
Even when it feels like we are alone
We are never alone.
In the lowest valley,
He makes a stepping stone.
And plants our feet on it.
As He perfects His plan
Put in place for us
Even before we were born.

We are never alone
Even when alone over the years,
His perfect plan is rolled out
One step at a time,
One day at time,
One month at a time,
One year at a time.
And we are never alone.
Looking back at the winding path,
Shows a clear design
Of the work of a star designer
Perfecting His plan
Over the entire span.
Never to make us a loner.
Even when the world thinks
We are alone and defeated.
We are never alone.
His love, grace and mercy
Deliver bucketfuls of blessings
Even deep in the valley.

Counting the blessings and
Sharing the blessings
Keeps the mind at rest
With a smiling countenance,
Knowing fully well that
We are never alone.
As some may believe.
What a relief!!!


Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu

Hands in Motion

Up they go in the air
In clusters and a pair.
On long dark green stalks,
Elegant and strong.
Reaching up as a throng
Of arms in the air.
Supporting open hands
Raised up in praise.

Large rose blooms,dark red.
Seated on thorny stalks, and
Facing sun rays
Raining down on them.
Looking like raised faces, aglow
With radiant rays on them.
In response to resounding praise
Going up from grateful hearts.

Chinwe Enemchukwu.
March 26/2011
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu

Sight seeing was one of the favorite pastimes I enjoyed with my children in their younger days. During the hot summer holidays, the days usually started early with vacation bible school during early summer and then swimming lessons, tennis lessons and later tournaments and then, the left over time, was spent going sightseeing. We would pile in the car and take off, not having any particular destination in mind, but the county parks with playgrounds, the area lakes, or long drives through open land as far as the eye could see to nowhere, until we got tired and turned around to go home. We packed snacks and lunch and good music for the tape player or car radio, and games, and books, for the trip. Upon arriving home later, all would settle down and rest after a good day, put to good use. There was never a dull moment in those days.
One day, after a visit to the pediatrician for the two year old baby, we decided to go sight seeing in the Venetian gardens, a beautiful park by the Harris chain of Lakes in Leesburg. The garden is right behind the building where the doctor had his office at the time. The appointment was brief and we drove the car from the parking lot to the parking area by the park. We took drinks and left everything else in the car since we were just going to look around the park and then come back and go to the YMCA for swimming. That morning was not hot yet as a typical summer morning would be. It was very nice, comfortable and a little breezy when we took off on the grassy path along the banks of a small body of water which looked man-made. We walked, taking in the sights, the flowers, the birds , ducks gliding on the water, the other birds fishing in the water with their long pointed beaks. We just followed the clearing until we came to a view of the lake, Lake Harris and I am not sure which one, there is little Lake Harris and Lake Harris. I did not want to get too close to the lake, since I was afraid of water and alligators. We stopped at that point taking in the views and at that point the summer sun had started beating down on the previously comfortable morning.
“Time to go back and get to the YMCA” I announced. The summer rains came almost every afternoon and the pools closed. We turned around to go back to the park, but to my utter dismay, all we saw was water, the lake and no way out. We must have made turns while coming up the grassy path and could not find our way back. My first reaction was panic, but I decided to remain calm. Panicking would scare the children and we would have had a mess on our hands. There were no cell phones in those days and no way of contacting anybody or calling for help. My heart was pounding and I remained calm. I had left the baby's stroller in the car and the weight of the two year old was beginning to get to me. I had to pick him up when he got tired of walking and had put his hands up to be carried. No wrapper to carry him on my back either.
Looking around one more time for a way out, because there had to be a way out, we saw land, the park, but the only way to get to it was a rickety old bridge which looked more like a rope bridge suspended over the water. I felt a sinking feeling, fear, panic, desperation, all combined. That bridge was the only way out and I could not imagine myself going over that bridge with a baby in my arms and five other little ones in front or behind me. I was alarmed and the children picked it up from the look on my face. They looked afraid too.
I had to make the decision to relax and abolish all panic and fear and cross that bridge back to the park and to life. I said a prayer. The children waited patiently. I announced to them that we must cross the bridge to get back to the park and that we had no other choice than to cross that bridge, and we must not be afraid since there was nothing to be afraid of. Deep down, I was numb with fear, but had no choice at the time. Fear was not going to help me in that situation. I prayed out loud and asked God to take control.
We crossed that bridge and there was total silence as we walked on that rickety bridge and it seemed to have taken for ever to cross it, shaking and almost swinging, but we crossed it and as I got off the bridge, I turned around to look and I fell on the grass on my knees thanking God for bringing us back across that shaky bridge with the lake under it and all that could have gone wrong. The children told me later how scared they were but had to follow when they noticed that I was not afraid. If they only knew how afraid I was initially until I put our situation in God's able hands.
That incident is one of our favorite memories of the good old days. All that could have gone wrong are what we talk about when we discuss that day. We crossed back to the park, to the car and to the YMCA, swimming, and other fun activities. The bridge was behind us and life went on.
In life we as humans, get to rough, tight places and where there seem to be no way out of such situations. God in His infinite wisdom and mercy, always provides a bridge to get His children out and unto the abundant life He planned for them, even before they were born.
Who is like Him? Nobody. Enjoy this piece below and have a blessed day.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0Zc_VWJJoI

HOW TIME FLIES: (Jan. 28 2011)

On my way to work yesterday morning, my favorite radio station was talking about the memorial service for the astronauts who perished when the space shuttle Challenger
exploded exactly twenty five years ago. I could see it all again in my mind's eye, all the preparation, all the enthusiasm of having a school teacher in space, and the experiments she was to perform in space. The excitement was palpable. The news was all over the airwaves.
I could remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the announcement came over the radio at work. I had just finished punching my time card and was in the locker room hanging up my winter coat. Then the news came over the airwaves and there was a hush. Then people ran upstairs through the side door to the hospital lobby where a television set was on for patients and visitors sitting around for various reasons. It was a cold morning and the news added an extra pinch of coldness to the morning.

I felt numb as Christa MCauliffe's face on television played before my eyes, as she talked to newsmen and women, on television with her class, with her husband and children and and with her elderly parents, so proud of their daughter. It could not be, I thought. It had to be a dream. It had to be the dream, but no, it was not the dream. I was standing in the locker room at work wide awake. It was real life. News kept trickling in as the morning progressed. The crash of the shuttle was caused by ice formed by the very cold weather. After efforts to clear the ice off the shuttle in Florida where the weather was usually nice during the winter, the shuttle was cleared to fly. I had never been to Florida then, but the television always showed nice sunny weather when there was snow all over the place in Boston. A co-worker was at that time selling land in Florida and the pictures in her brochures showed beautiful sunny skies and landscape, no hint of cold or ice. And now the space shuttle had just blown up in Florida because of cold weather and ice. Relocating to Florida three years later familiarized me with the occasional weather swings possible in the Sunshine state.

The explosion of Challenger brought such grief and disappointment, and then time did what it does best and people forget. It was the bombing of the Federal building in
Oklahoma city that brought back memories of such loss of human life unexpectedly, as in the case of the Challenger accident. Who would have known what was lurking in September 2001, the day the twin tower terrorist event which changed the world forever happened. Each time I travel through an airport now, I remember the guys who gave us the gift of airport security checks and reflect on the days, when one could run to the gate from the check-in counter and barely make it to get on a flight and when people could come to the airport and park just to watch airplanes land and take off. The good old days.

Humans beings will continue to do the best in their power tp prevent accidents and mass deaths. Once in a while,they will fail and terrible things happen and cause serious pain and damage and disappointment and always, God helps the human spirit to heal and go on. The crew of the space shuttle Challenger, a group of trail blazers, a number of firsts, lost their lives that fateful cold morning of January 28th 1986. Twenty five years already and the heart broken families have mended, built memorials and moved on with their lives.May the souls of their dearly departed continue to rest in peace. Amen!!!

Chinwe Enemchukwu
Jan 28 2011.