infant sleeping

i read something this morning in Augustine's Confessions that i felt compelled to reflect on. Augustine was recounting his early days of life and writes "i began to smile; first in sleep, then in waking..." i thought first of the smile that drapes quickly across the face of an infant when they sleep. there are few things in life more amazingly than seeing the smile of a sleeping infant...even more so if you happen to be the parent of that smiling infant. the smile on a sleeping baby, is the kind of grin one has when s/he knows something that others don't know. like grins you have when a loved one is trying to guess the gift they you have bought for them. a smile of knowing. perhaps in the smile of an infant there is a hint that they know something grown ups don't know. i bet the infant jesus smiled as he slept...because there was so much he knew that we did not. there was such a surprise coming...that he would give....for us....yeah, i'm sure he smiled.

i believe Augustine may have been hinting at another reality that is true of those, like himself, who found faith in Jesus. as sleeping persons we smiled, but later we were awake- spiritually awake. and now awake we smile because we well ...we are awake and He has made us that way.

Big Ken

The big guy had been around for decades, In fact, I can’t remember a time when he was not around. Big Ken More had become like a member of the family. For $500 my family purchased big Ken back when I was still wearing Garanimals (I was always a husky). Big Ken was our microwave oven. Of course, by today’s standards he was not “micro” in any way...he was huge. Big Ken had the volume of 36” television and weighed even more! We knew we had a good one because the lights in the house would flinch, surrendering their power, whenever the big KEN MORE surged with power. Ken was a man’s oven in every way...big handle, big numbers, big sound. And he proved to have staying power. Big Ken endured with patience as we mere mortals learned how to use such a powerful machine. Big Ken reigned for more than three decades- in three different houses, during the administrations of five presidents.

This week I got the call. Big Ken flipped his final breaker. But, being the machine he was, Ken went out with class. After warming up the last item on Thanksgiving Day and without forewarning but with a victorious roar, pop, and sizzle, big Ken More said goodbye. His work was done. (What better day to go out for a kitchen appliance than after Thanksgiving). My Dad assures me that he did all he could for Big Ken, but it was time. And so Ken was unplugged and replaced. (By one of those new fancy little sissy ovens that can warm your coffee but has nowhere near the breaker tripping moxy of a big Ken. But I’m a little bias.)

Material things come and go. They come, they rust and they wear out. Even the good ones. This time of year, rich with tradition, provides us the opportunity to refocus on that which matters ultimately- our faith in God, our family, our future. Today I was encouraged by this promise to us as followers of Jesus. God “has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade...” (1 Peter 1:3b-4).

Lord Jesus, help us this Christmas season to be sure to focus on what matters ultimately, which certainly are not the things that come in bubble wrap and a sealed box. Amen.

incense

i'm dizzy. i think it's the incense. i don't know how to use them. today i wish i were catholic or episcipal or orthodox. they know how to use incense. not me, and now i'm dizzy. i don't know a censer from an ashtray, self lite from kingston... incense are so strong, aren't they? so is the presence of god. but not quite in the same way...well sort of in the same way. did i mention i was dizzy from the fumes? if i figure out how to use them i might burn them this sunday in my very protestant church. then we would have a church full of dizzy people, like episcipalians or catholics (it's a joke!) okay, i've got to get some fresh air.

stories aren't bound, books are

okay so i'm reading this morning about this jewish king who's kicked back by an open fire, jack frost nipping at his nose, tiny tots with thier eyes all aglow... anyway... he's sitting back reading words from a prophet (Jer. 36) and as a page of the story is read he balls it up and tosses it into the flames. presumably he didn't want to pass this story on to his grandkids. so by the time the story is over, the book is gone. and this is where the king was confused. the heat from campfire must have short circuited his brain, because he somehow computed that destroying the book would destroy the story. it doesn't work that way.

i think true stories live even if they are not hard bound. sometimes people fear that destroying the bible will somehow kill the the story of god. it doesn't, because the story of god and the salvation of christ is a drama played out on the stage of history. the bible is the recorded story of god, but the bible is not the story(...by the way have you noticed that some people love their bible, they just don't love to read it) ... but as i was saying.... god forbid, but even if every bible on earth were destroyed by some toasty footed, frost nosed king, the story of Christ would live on....written and recorded permanently on the hearts of men and women. books are bound, stories are not.

man do i like my bible... even more i like to read the bible...even more i love the god of the bible. which i think is the point of the story anyway. but i think god is asking me...if someone burned a few pages of your bible, would you even miss them...

DVR (Don't Veally Remember)

DVR (Don’t Veally Remember)

We like our DVR (digital video recorder). We weren’t exactly early adopters but we jumped on the bandwagon about six months ago. DVRs are awesome because, not only can you record your favorite shows digitally, you can also pause and rewind live TV. So when Michael humiliates himself on The Office, we can watch it over and over. Or when LSU pulls out a last second victory... say over Auburn, I can relive the moment as often as I want to. Oh...and with DVR you get to fast forward through the commercials. I really like that. Yes, the DVR is a pretty cool invention. It records events just as they actually happened.

I wish my mind were a DVR. But it’s not, or at least not a very good one. If my mind were being sold as a DVR people would want their money back. Sometimes I think it is a good DVR, but the truth is my mind rarely captures events exactly as they happened. And I’ve noticed something else. Unlike the DVR, the more time that elapses and the more often I play the events of the past back in my head, the more distorted they become. I’ve noticed this horror- my DVR (the one in my head not the one by TV) actually overwrites actual historical realities with my own perceptions of them (which are hardly ever the same thing). I have a DVR in my head too. But mine stands for (don’t veally remember). That’s why I need forgiveness and that’s why I must freely offer it to others. And so do you.

Lord thank you for your forgiveness. And thank you that when we confess our sins you wipe our mistakes completely off your hard drive so they are never accessed again. Help us to be more like you, and to rely on your grace for the power to forgive. In Jesus Name, Amen.

last four miles

The plan, in theory would work. Marie would start the 10:30am worship service by leading an opening music set. Adam would preach. That would provide plenty of time for Kevin to lead an extended worship set in response to the message. To end the service I would do the announcements, collect the offering and pray.

At 4:00am. Kevin met me at my house. We then rode together to the amphitheater, to be shuttled to the starting line for the Rock-n-Roll ½ Marathon. The 13.1 miles would prove to be the easy part.

My group left the start line at about 7:05, Kevin’s left at about 7:30. Allotting approximately two hours to run, this would put us finishing somewhere around 9:30. This would make things interesting but still doable. Well, the short of it is this, we didn’t leave the ocean front until 10:30. Kristy and the kids (who spent the extra time practicing the use of their plastic clappers) were waiting in the wings to pick us up. Like robbers in a get away we raced back to our house.

Here was the preplanned sequence. 1. Kristy would drop us off at our house. 2. Shower and change. 3. Take Kevin’s jeep to the church. Steps one and two went as planned. (It was about 10:45 now.) As I was putting dress shoes on my blistered feet, step three hit a hurdle. Kevin realized the keys to his jeep were in the car we had taken to the amphitheater (it was still at the amphitheater!). My first thought was, we are going to have to run another four miles this morning and I really don’t want to. What are we going to do? Motorcycle! (Why are you laughing already?) I wobbled to the kitchen (my legs were tightening up by now) grabbed my key, handed Kevin a full faced helmet, instructed him to hold on to the back rest and not my waist, and off we went. Just let that image sink in....

Now, I don’t know what this looked like. Well actually I kind of do...two guys on a motorcycle, the passenger is six inches taller than the driver, with a full face helmet that probably doesn’t fit. Oh yes, this had to be quite the picture. When we drove into the church parking lot, not a soul was outside. God is a merciful god. I think the motorcycle was still rolling when Kevin jumped off and darted inside. It was about 11:05. Adam was still preaching. We made it, 17.1 miles!

I thought about how many people probably had no idea all that happened that morning before they saw us at church. And I thought about how little we sometimes know about what others go through on a given Sunday just to be there. We really only see the surface, we only see the last 50 steps, but there is so much more to our journeys than that, isn’t there?

“Lord, you see our goings and our comings. You see the beginning and the end. Lead us to discover more about each other than the last five steps. Help us to share more than that also so that we can be the authentic community you’ve called us to be as your church. In Christ’s name, amen.

a day in the sun

My feet were burning. And so were theirs. My two year old son was trying to be strong but his armor was beginning to break (or perhaps the blisters were starting to form). In a faint voice I could hear him calling for Da-da, but I was determined to find relief on the boardwalk. I would loved to have helped him out, but I was pretty well maxed out with all the equipment stuffed under each arm. I believe every finger on my right hand had become a hook of some kind to hang lawn chairs, umbrellas, and flip flops on. I also had a back pack loaded with food rations and hydration for four, sun protection and wet towels for same. Did I mention my feet were burning? For good measure, I had another bag draped over my shoulder. I’m not sure what was in it, probably some sort of one-of-a-kind shell my daughter couldn’t live without.

I understood at that moment, those who say they love going to the beach, they just don’t care for the sand much. As I was toting my house back from the edge of the water through loose sand to the car I didn’t like the sand very much either.

But you know what I did like...much? I liked...much... being with my kids. I liked building the big ditch in the sand and filling it with ocean water. And I liked boogie boarding with my daughters. And I liked watching my son chase sea gulls, because he wanted to see what they felt like. I liked sharing a bag of chips on the way home and seeing the glow of a fun day on their faces.

“Father, thank you for moments of fun with people we love. Thank you for the glow that surrounds us when we spend a day with the Son. We like that...much, and we know that you do too. In Jesus name, Amen.”

the best way to eat corn

The first time I saw my dear relatives in the Midwest eat corn on the cob I sat stunned. Now, being from Louisiana, I know I have no right questioning the eating habits of anyone on planet Earth. What experienced was probably just a ration of what so many others have experienced when they see us sweep crawfish out of the ditches and suck their heads.

With that being said... I guess I had never really eaten that much corn on the cob. Clearly by their standards I had never really eaten corn. Pecked at it maybe. But this was another league altogether. When I ate corn I just took one bite at a time (crazy me). Well, I can assure you, that is not the way the people who grow corn eat corn. How do I describe it? Put these images simultaneously in your mind. The speed of a squirrel eating an acorn. The left to right movement of an old fashion type writer. The splashing/slurping sound that accompanies the first bite into a juicy slice of watermelon. If you combine all three of those, you get close to what I witnessed at the dinner table that day.
I remember it all like it was yesterday. I picked my corn up with everyone else at the table but as I sat mine down, I witnessed an explosion of speed, slurping and spinning. Before my corn returned to the plate they had already made their way through two rows and were returning to the left to start the third. Their hands were like rollers that kept the cob turning, their eyes were locked down guiding the procedure. And the butter ran in a stream down the center of their bottom lip, some dripping on the table. And no one, not a single person, other than the Southern boy thought this was the least bit strange. I couldn’t say a word for the better part of a minute. That day I learned how to stop fooling around and how to really eat corn. It tastes better the way they eat it, but I still think it’s strange.

I think people that have yet to follow Christ probably look at the lives of us that do follow him and wonder what it’s all about. They see us consuming and enjoying the things of God, but to them it all seems kind of foreign. They are more prone to peck, than dive in. But we hope the day will come when they really taste and see how good the Lord is. There really is only one way to follow Christ...and that is well, like a Midwesterner eats corn, or like a Cajun eats crawfish, or like a Texan eats Bar B Q or like a .... you get the point.

“Father you are good. And the more we know of you the more we realize how good you are to those to trust and follow you. Thank you for Godly people, who at times their methods and values seem strange to us, yet they teach us what abundant life is all about. May we observe their example, stop pecking around in our relationship with you and dive in. In Jesus name. Amen.”

bye fourth grade, bye first grade

today is my girls' last day of school. actually the last day of school was about two weeks ago, but they have continued to visit the building daily to watch movies, get awards, and eat brownies while playing word bingo...but i digress. but today they go for a half a day and then summer break officially begins. i'm such a sentimental sucker especially when it comes to my kids. and so when my oldest (a rising 5th grader) told me that today as the children leave on the school bus, all the teachers will gather on the lawn and wave them goodbye, it tugged at my heart a little bit. good-byes, even when they are the mark of summer break are to me, bitter sweet.

i love the beginning of summer, but it also reminds me more than anyother time, of the passing of time. and how fast my kids are growing, and how much of a gift time with them is. so in some ways i see myself on that lawn, with the teachers, because I too am waving good-bye to a fourth grader and a first grader.

today i read that ruth graham (billy graham's) wife is in a coma and near death. I heard her say one time that she hated good-byes too. she will be soon taking the utlimate break, or sabbath, the sabbath rest that is prepared for all the saints. and those that stand on the lawn to wave good-bye...well they will still have tears...

...okay, enough of that, now can we go to the beach!

that strange out-of-school feeling

do you remember that feeling you use to get when you were not in school and everyone else was. Not the "yeepee" -this-is-awseome feeling. no the other feeling. Be honest. Do you remember how when you were not in school and everyone else was...how it felt like you were in a foreign world...a place were not suppose to be...a strange world. Because the world you knew, and the people you hung with were all somewhere else. The streets seemed quiet and abandoned almost. And although it was nice NOT be in school it was also a strange, sort of disorienting experience. Everything seemed different, because you really had no idea what the grown ups did all day. And from what you could observe it all looked pretty boring.
I got the feeling today. I guess because I was thinking about he kids getting out for summer break soon. And I thought about how as we progress through life we are all slowly being released into the wild. For the first 18 years of your life, school is the place we spend most of our lives. INside the walls. Then some of us go to college, and it's sort of equal time in and outside the walls. And then one day freedom... Today I reminisced about how cool it was to once be locked up with all of my friends.
You know what, I still don't know what all (of us) the grown ups do all day...

running on "E"

I really hate running out of stuff. I don't like running out of ketchup, or milk, or clean underwear, or bread, or toilet paper, or battery life on my ipod, or ink for the printer, or paper, or dental floss...
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This is the season for the outdoor grill. And I hate to run out of propane, so I like to keep a spare tank around (currently the spare is empty too). But nothing kills the good vibes of a cookout more than getting the sirloin patties on the grill, and your flame turns to a flicker because there is no fuel (rare beef anyone) in the tank. Some newer, fancy grills even have a little gauge to let you know when it's getting low. Helpful? It should be, but most of us still try to anticipate how much longer we have AFTER it gets on "E". This is the same thing we do with the fuel gauge in the car, right? We have a gauge to tell us when the gas is about to run out. But a gauge isn't enough, so they started adding the display light that glows "Fuel" or "Low Fuel" or "Pull over you Idiot." But that apparently wasn't enough for us either. So now there is, on most vehicles a gauge, a light and a peep. (Ironically we don't even pay attention to the gauge anymore; we just wait for the light or the peep). Still all of these warnings are not enough. So some cars even have an information system that will tell you how many more miles (down to the 1/10 of a mile) you can go before you are completely stranded. It is strange, no one likes to run out of gas, but we can't help but push the limit to see how far we can go before we have to put the flashers on and hike up the hill with a gas can in hand.

I think it might be good if we had a spiritual fuel gauge, don't you? An objective instrument that would tell us when we were getting close to "E". And even better, an instrument panel that could warn us as to exactly how much longer we had before we would be completely drained. Maybe this instrument panel (located in your belly button or something) could then ask us tough questions like, how many more worship services are you going to skip? How many more days are you going to go without reading God's word? When are going to take some time for quiet prayer? How long do you think you can go without Christian fellowship? When are you going to take a break? This would be the equivalent of telling us its time to fill up. That would be pretty cool to have that kind of spiritual gauge. But then, with our history, would we listen?

"Father, some of us have tanks that just need to be topped off. Others of us are spiritually on "E." Help us over this summer to find the filling station. Guide us to times and places of recreation and rest, reflection and worship. We want to see the needle move toward "FULL." In Jesus name, Amen.

the bachelor and blink

(whispering) i watched the bachelor last night. it's the only episode of it i've watched all season, honestly. i lost interest in that show a long time ago. but i did watch last night's finale. blonde blevin got dishonorably discharged by the Lt. while tessa got promoted! it may help blevin's feelings to be reminded that these tv arrangements have an abysmal record. that's because "reality tv" is an oxymoron and people are always more attractive ib bright clothes, sipping a beverage on a gazebo in Hawaii! these eight week, on screen wife interviews are not so helpful.

i read a book a few weeks ago called "blink" it is about the split second decisions we all make. and how some people in a split second can make amazingly accurate judgement calls, about all kinds of things. that blink is sort of a leadership intuition. but the cool thing is we can learn to make really accurate quick calls about all kinds of stuff if we know what to look for. we all know that some people make really catastrophic split second choices, but the blink book suggests that is because they are observing and evaluating the wrong criteria. you see conventional wisdom suggests that if we spend a long time with someone we can learn more about them thus enabling us to make a sound judgement about them, when actually if we dropped by thier home and observed them for 30 minutes we would actually know more about what they are REALLY like...if we know what to look for.

now that could make an interesting television show... but then how would you run that for eight weeks!

in the end...it does matter!

i like that song by linkin park, in the end ...doesn't get played in churches much. that's probably a good thing. but it is so honest, and i like honesty! i like this song because when i feel like i'm hitting obstacles in life, interference, or just resistence, it just expresses that frustration of trying so hard at something but failing. in football we used to have to pull sleds loaded with 50lbs weights. the resistence made us stronger...but sometimes the weight made us fall. But we got up, because the coach kicked us in the butt.

But i like that song, because ultimately i know in the end...in the THE END... it all matters. And any failure...mess up...skrew up... no matter how large or small is never final. As followers of Jesus we pick up (or are picked up) and we push forward, because that is what Jesus does , and that is what leaders do, and that is what leaders who follow Jesus do...

oh and by the way...the fifty to seventy-five of you that are reading this, you totally rock!

terrible week and a port-o-potty

this has been a week that just reeks! a week that began with hope ended with a lot of disappointment and frustration, confusion and emptiness. i went to the park yesterday to pray...and sulk. in the midst of my grief, i went to the port-o-jon. and there god gave me a little relief and perspective. perhaps not like you think. when i opened the first poo shack, there was on the slimy floor, a duffle bag. a duffle bag stuffed with clothes..it was clearly the clothes of a homeless man. what i used to deposit waste, he used for shelter. and then i realized things could be much worse...

i don't want to be a coco puff

It looked okay but when I bit into it tasted...strange...bad... well, just wrong. My best friend in he school had a Mom who was a real kind lady. But unfortunately kindness doesn't make one a good cook. In this case it doesn't even guarantee that a person can make French toast. But she was so nice I even feel a little guilty saying anything about this. But the powdered sugar she put on our toast tasted bad. That was because it was corn starch. It was early and she grabbed the wrong container, and we paid the price. Did I mention how nice she was?

I am thinking about prayer. I think too often we view prayer like a blind folded reach into the cupboard. We might get what we're looking for but we fear (because we think there's a 50-50 chance) we might just get the corn starch instead. This creates a crazy kind of prayer life. It creates a prayer paranoia that reduces prayer to magic.

You see, in magic you've got to say the phrase exactly right or you may not get what it is you're asking for. And in the worse case, saying the wrong phrase could turn you into a coco puff. That may be how it is in magic, but praying to the living God is not like that. (He prefers captain crunch). Some of this hocus pocus theology comes intertwined in phrases like, "pray specific." Now I suppose it is a good idea to be specific with our requests to God. But specificity in our prayers is needed for our clarity not God's. After all it’s not a toddler we are speaking to. I believe the author of the universe has pretty good grasp of the difference between corn starch and powder sugar.

thoughts on Virginia Tech

the stories are just starting to come out...the sad stories of lives lost, of hopes shattered, of friendships cut short... "why" does not even begin to give voice to the depth of our questions. but still we ask it, and still we hope the answer (the partial answer) to why will help our dismay and dispair. days like today, we ask ourselves when will it end? when will the crazy, random, idoitic, infuriating violence end...when?

And today we pray...with our questions, with our anger, with our tears, we carry them all with us to God in prayer. and we yell with the rage of a grieving mother, "WHY". and in place of answers we get his hand, his comfort, his tears that mix with ours, and for the moment we hope it is enough...

rainy servants

servant sunday was perfectly rainy! yesterday our church cancelled our morning services and went out to worship jesus through serving. if worship is about surrender and service to jesus, i think we may have worshiped more than ever. the weather wasn't pretty, but i was convicted by the thought....what kind of service am i offering if i only offer it under ideal circumstances?...or only if the photo will turn out nice? i was inspired by the 100 or so who chose to serve regardless, and i'm grateful for those who will be giving of their time in the coming weeks to serve our community. yesterday we were not serving instead of worshiping, we worshiped through our serving....and jesus was lifted up.

i weed wacked the easter bunny

i use to like mowing the grass. not so much anymore. i hit a baby rabbit with my weed eater last year. they don't like me to mow the grass either. today i had to mow the grass. so far no casualties and the grass looks pretty good. ...by the way, it was an accident.

clean hands

people lined up to wash their hands in a small basin of clear cool water and dried them with white towels that were sitting on the altar. yesterday was a powerful worship experience for me and for others i think... my heart thumped with emotion as I, along with other followers of jesus, responded to the story of towel and the basin (john 13) by allowing god to wash them, and by picking up the towel of servanthood. yesterday we came closer, closer to being able to answer jesus' question, "do you understand what i have done for you?" do i understand? not completely. But I'm getting closer, we are getting closer.... and that feels good.

what is calling?

Today, I'm thinking about 'calling.' What is it to be 'called.' It certainly does not mean that one is the most talented, the most gifted, or even the best candidate for the task. I think being called is a spiritual tug that occurs when God appoints us for a task (that effects us mentally, emotionally, physically, and every other way..). Calling is a spiritual tug that draws us toward a certain action or task. That tug, if allowed, will jar us out of complacency, apathy, and will even conquer fear. Every fear. When I am called, the discomfort associated with inaction becomes stronger, and strangely, more terrible than any fear of risk that might accompany the action to which I am called. When I am called there is also a strange sense of "I must" that comes with it. I must go, I must do this, I must. And in one sense, it at first seems a bit egotistical, because when I am called there is a sense that "it must be me." "This is my job, this is my responsiblity, I must do it. I must go first, I must lead the way, I must lead others in following. David was not the most qualified, the most likley, the best suited for the job, but he had what others did not...calling. And that in the end, calling was more than enough...indeed calling was all it took to slay Goliath. Today I feel called. I pray you experience the majestic discomfort of being called.

what is up with Sanjaya

I'm starting to get upset about this. I know you expect more spiritual ramblings from me right. Well maybe not. anyway, I can't keep it in any longer, "what is up with american idol?" What is up with AI audience. (hey ai was a city Joshua blew up...) but i digress.. the little girl on AI that they kept showed last night crying...I felt like her. I feel like her everytime I hear Sanjaya sing. I call him jakarta, i don't know why, just to irritate my 9 year old I think. But he is bad, its real bad. Nice kid I suppose, but bad. So what is going on? Any huntches? Here's what I think is going on. There is a college freshman at Harvard or some other Ivy League school, sitting in his apartment with a laptop, who has developed a software program that calls in a million calls per minute. And he is using his scheme to push jakarta, I mean Sanjaya, through. Okay, so its a stretch but I just can't believe what I'm seeing. It's unreal! That's all I've got today... would love to hear your thoughts....peace out.

capturing the heart of a harlot

I read this morning about Rahab... you know that woman in the bible who was a card carrying member of the world's oldest profession. I read about how she risked everthing, literally everything, to obey the one who had finally captured her heart.

I wondered....what does it take to capture the heart of a whore? God said to me...I don't know ask yourself what it takes to capture your heart. (I didn't know if Ishould be offended by that or not). For Rahab it was a story, actually stories. She heard the stories of one who loves with an unfailing love, who protects and provides for those he loves, and who welcomes those who long for true love, and knocks on the door to give, not take. When she heard that story, about that one, she fired the pimp, threw caution to the wind and ran into the arms of the lover of her soul.

And, that day, the harlot became a queen ....

he beat his... (donkey)

I read this morning a remarkable story...even for a follower of jesus, this is a strange story. A scorcerer is on his way to curse the people of god and his donkey won't let him go...so he gets off the saddle and starts beating the crap out of his donkey. That's not the stranger part...the freaky thing is he hears the donkey speak to him (why do I always here the voice of eore when Iread this story) any way... the donkey says, "dude we've been tight all these years why are you beating the heck out of me. Can't you trust me that there is something blocking the path." And oh yeah...the scorcerer dude answers the donkey- that's the stangest part.

If you can get past the spectacular parts of the story the truth will kick your...behind. The donkey sees what the man could not. I think of the times people have seen blocks and landmines and were trying to warn me, but instead of listening to them I beat them up. Maybe not physically, but I thought they were dumb or blind or shortsighted. When atually they saw what I could not see... yes, sometimes it's wise to listen to what the ...donkeys.... around us are saying. Sometimes they see better than we do...if I am too stubborn to listen to even a donkey then what does that make me? (rf. num 22.21-39)

Mutant Ninja Xtns

So the local xtn radio station asked me to speak at a promo they're doing for the release of the new kids movie- teenage mutant ninja turtles. they asked if I would give short devotional word before the movie starts... i said sure and so I've been thinking of what i might say. Let me run this by you feel free to tell me what you think...

I haven't seen the movie but I am willing to bet my $2.00 box of milk duds that the good guys win. i don't know that for a fact, but I am fairly certain the movie makers do not want the kids throwing the TMNT figurines in the trash at the conclusion of the flick. So the good guys will win. something else I can tell you about this movie I have never seen. There will likely be a point in the movie where it will look like the good guys might lose.

This is the easter season, and it is the time of year we are reminded that good will win...oh yeah, I mean...has won. there was a time in the plot of history that it didn't look that way. there were times when it looked as if it might be time to ball up and throw away all items marked with 'hope.' there are times in our own lives now that we aren't sure if good will win. but then easter comes around again, assuring us that, good wins, because God is on the side of good. and our spirit yells, "kowubunga, dude" . (jesus did the the kow-u-buga on the head of evil.) easter reminds me that people who cling to god will never loose. at the time the battle heats up, they mutate, find extrahuman strength...and kick all kind of evil butt.

Okay so that's all i've got for now....

Easter Headquarters

Yesterday I passed a rite aid sign. The sign said 'easter headquarters.' that struck me as strange.The land of kodak film, greeting cards, and pepto is now easter headquarters. I suppose they were referring to their easter merchandise. I guess they were saying that right there, at rite aid, one could get everything one needs for easter. easter headquarters. hmmm, i don't think I agree with that sign. most of what is essential about easter...well ALL that is essential about easter can not be purchased from a pharmacy. I mean really what use is foot powder to the resurrected christ or nasal spray or overpriced breath mints?
I think today I might go to rite aid and ask for the resurrection department. I bet they don't have one. sadly, many churches don't have that department either. but whereever/whenever that department is open, that's the real easter headquarters.

Avoided

Avoided... I don't really like the feeling of being avoided. It really stinks. every timeI get that feeling I remember my most vivid memory of that feeling. I was a hot, good-looking, witty, successful, overweight, backward, third shift working security guard. she was a pretty, articulate, likeable nurse who took good care of my grandma in the hospitial. she also happened to live in the gated community where I was the night watchman. (can you say mismatch) anyway I got the fantasy to ask her out...I didn't really know how to do that...so I called her at work and had to explain to her who I was and why i felt compelled to call her at work. She was nice. It was weird!

Well, she never really wanted to go out with me...in fact one day I was working and I saw her approach the gate, and she must have been really late for work because she floored her taurus and nearly broke the gate down. she must not have known it was me in the guard shack because she didn't even look my way... it seemed to me there for several months she was always in real big hurry... I figured over time that she probably wasn't ready to date an officer of the law. then I got older and discovered what i knew then..she was avoiding me.

Do you ever feel that way? It sucks doesn't it? Even if your not being avoided, the feeling is not nice. Hey, for what it's worth, (and to me its quite a lot), God doesn't avoid me or you... he seeks us out and makes a point to say, "nice uniform."