More words ...

than I can pre-type in one sitting (before finally getting on-line with an upload).

Really, what I'm trying to say is the posts I woulda posted are too long to post ... so I'm posting just the titles for the un-posted posts from the past few days because the posts were too long to finish writing.

Nov. 27 2007
"A Different Kind of Burden"
I'm rich because I'm righteous ... and God thinks so, too.

Nov 28 2007
"Well Done, Good and Faithful Colleague"
Being a Christian doesn't make me better than you - I was already better than you.

Nov 28 2007
"The Sons of Heaven Lodge and Social Club"
Where church is what we say church should be - and that means Sunday School and Wednesday Night Prayer Meetings, mister.

Nov 29 2007
"Is A Blessing the same thing as a Reward?"
No, I deserve everything God's given me ... and gots lots more comin' my way.

Will there be Dinosaurs in Heaven?

Had a discussion recently with an out-of-town friend about some serious scriptural ideology ... namely, How much does your pastor make? and Will our pets be with us in Heaven?

See, it was budget-making time at his church, and the debate was already shaping up to be lively (as usual). My friend sighed and remarked, "Well, everybody's entitled to speak up with their opinion when it comes to spending the church's money. After all, it's our money."

My brain-brake wasn't fully engaged and I blurted, Your money?

"Sure," my friend answered. "Where else do you think it comes from?" Once the condescension gets started it's hard to stop: "Doesn't the congregation have a right to know what the pastor's getting paid?"

I asked why the pastor's take-home was important, except to hold as a lever-under-the table, and got a snicker for my trouble.

"There's always stories on the news about pastors stealing from churches, and it's the members' responsibility to closely monitor where their tithes are going! Membership comes with its privileges."

So I said, Then doesn't the congregation have the same right to know what every member makes?

I could practically feel his gasp hit my cheek. "WHAT on earth for? What sense does that make?"

I said, To make sure all the members are tithing, and that GOD isn't being robbed. Because it seems to me like the members could steal more from God than a pastor could steal from a church.

"Well," my friend continued, "did you know that a preacher only has one job? And that's to feed the flock."

I closed my eyes and wondered, Then why aren't they called Feed-ers, instead of Preach-ers?

But I wasn't fast enough to respond, so the subject tore off in a new direction.

My friend had been reading a book (I forget the name) that tries to draw a picture of what Heaven will be like, based on glimmpses and references from scripture.

The author claimed that since scripture mentions a "New Jerusalem" in Heaven, and the "old" Jerusalem's specific dimensions are referenced in the Bible; and since Heaven's streets be paved with gold, then Heaven must be a physical place ... meaning we'll have legs to walk from one place to another in Heaven.

The author also claims our pets will join us in Heaven, because animals were part of God's original perfect creation in the Garden of Eden, so why wouldn't He include the same perfect creatures in Paradise?

Especially since Heaven in always described in fun, happy terms (isn't that what Joy means?), who could be totally 100% happy in Heaven for ever and ever without their favorite dog (cats and pet reptiles, not so much).



Uh, you want fries with that order? I'm not mocking or ridiculing, I'm pleading: Won't being in Christ's presence be enough to answer every question and satisfy every need?

Lights! Laser!! Action!!!

Yesterday afternoon I had the PRK laser surgery on my right eye. This is me in the waiting area, waiting.


Then the nurse applied disinfectant.


Then, moments before the procedure was to begin, they said they wanted to videotape my PRK procedure, to use on the local cable channel. My excited enthusiasm was obvious.


I only asked for 2 conditions: that I be allowed to light and direct the action.


Then, it was showtime. The laser only zapped my eye for about 5 seconds before I yelled "Cut! That's a wrap!"


This is me back in the waiting area, Post-Op. Lasers make me happy, gee.


With a few minutes to kill before my ride arrived, I started wondering what I'd look like framed in a photo on the wall. Eeeh, I just don't have that "distinguished" thang goin' on.


Hey no kidding, the fact that doctors can use lasers to fix vision problems is a total MIRACLE imho ... and I'm grateful for not only the surgeon's skill but also for the nurses who went way outta their way to make sure I felt at-ease and non-hysterical.

They're some of the best folks I've met (and believers, too!) ... Thank Ya'll again for putting up with me.

Stuff happens

Especially when you keep one eye clamped open.

You won't believe it. Heck, I was there and didn't hardly believe it. But the good news is,

There's pictures and video to prove it!

Hint:
"I'm still big. It was the laser that got small" and "Sweetheart that was PERFECT! Now let's do it again, and this time give me 17% more energy!"

Should Believers Celebrate Christmas?

I mean really ... some folks are on the airwaves asking, Should we?

Does Christmas really have anything to do with celebrating Christ's birth, or is Christmas actually just the centuries-old "appropriation" of what was originally a pagan holiday?

And besides, isn't the "true spirit" of Christmas lost in the rush to rack-up massive debt buying bigger and better gifts this year ... as a substitute for the genuine affection that's been lacking throughout the year?

I mean, the word Christmas isn't mentioned anywhere in scripture, nor are we instructed to observe or celebrate Christ's birth (assuming it was anywhere near December 25 in the first place) or set it aside as a holiday.

And what about Halloween? Or Easter? Or St. Patrick's Day?



See, growing up in Florida, Gasparilla was my favorite holiday, when we celebrated the looting, rapine and murderous antics of the pirate Jose Gaspar (who turned out to be an entirely fictional character- ooops).

Should believers celebrate Gasparilla? What about the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving or Labor Day? What about it?

On the other hand, are any of these controversies real issues ... or merely straw men stuffed into Pharisaical robes by Holy Joes?

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question:

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?"

Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

-Matthew 22:34-40

I got my hands full paying attention to the two greatest commandments without worrying about tacking on private sticky-rules of my own creation ... much less expecting others to honor my home-made opinions and traditions.

Or lack thereof.

Where there's a Will, there's a key

Shout-Out to Will Rodes for his utterly unselfish time and help yesterday afternoon following the 11:15.

Seems I lost my truck key ... he found it wedged in my truck's front passenger seat (where I'd dropped it).

the old blog coach

I Feel Bad for Clemson fans. There, I said it.

While they might be celebrating an apparent "win" over USC last night, in their exuberance the Orange-Bleeders miss seeing the Big Picture ... namely that Steve Spurrier in the greatest college football coach of all time ... and Clemson's apparent "victory" last night was a master-stroke delivered straight from Spurrier's genius.

He wants the Tigers to be over-confident when the Gamecocks crow ... and "wake up" Death Valley next year.

I'm Most Thankful for ...

(satire)

This is the season when folks are given to reflecting about the things they're most thankful for, so it seems appropriate to share mine.

I'm most thankful for being ME. And here's the reasons why:

-I looked at all the poverty, disease and malnutrition that plagues most of the people living in the world, so I thoughtfully chose to be born here in the US

-Lots of folks whine and blame their present circumstances on their childhoods, so I looked at all the possible alternative and then picked my parents very carefully

-Even before I was born good health and longevity seemed important, to I chose to give myself those things. And also the general ability to keep everything in my life under control, too

-One little thing I did overlook was picking which college football teams will win every game, but no biggie

Other that that, anybody can read back over the blessings I choose for myself and see I did a pretty good job picking my life.

The only BIG thing I forgot to give myself before I was born was eternal life ... but with my long record of perfection and success, I figure there's no reason I can't negotiate my hereafter with The Almighty ... because I get to pick whether he exists, too (which makes me a VIP in His eyes)

When I get to Heaven He might even look forward to hearing a few ideas I got about hell and fairness, and making Himself clearer in scripture about what's sinful. And what stuff I can get away with when He's not looking

Heck, look at me jumping the gun. Maybe I'll just worship a god of my own creation till I die ... like sex, money or material success. Since I decided before I was born that they're all equally important with God anyway.

I mean, I musta given myself plenty of time to change my mind if I'm wrong.

Didn't I?

"He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind; for he is not a man, that he should change his mind." - 1 Samuel 15:29


Hey, enjoy today's games ... and hope your teams win!

Black Friday?

You can't save money by spending money!

Period.

PS. ... and Christmas rolls around on December 25 most ever year, so using a charge card is NO EXCUSE.

But somebody always wins!

Heard this on the radio yesterday:

Let's say you spend $5 a week playing the lottery. Let's say you play for 30 years.

How much would you have in the bank if you save the money instead?




$70,000

About Last Night

Last night B and L had me over to their house for Thanksgiving and it was awesome. B has great friends and I enjoyed being around them very much.

B can cook like nobody's business: turkey, mashed taters, home-made gravy, green beans, apple salad and ... and two dessert: Pecan-Chocolate Pie and Peanutbutter Pie!

B is too good to me ... and let me abscond with half the PB pie all to myself!


ps. Ax made a spicy bread-spread based on a recipe she got from Disney World (but I thought it tasted kinda Mickey Mouse, har-har).

friday's football forecasts

First, hope you all had a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving.

Second, tomorrow is THE BIGGEST, MOST HOTLY CONTESTED FOOTBALL GAME OF THE YEAR.

Naturally, I'm going with Florida over FSU ... by one million points.



Another game tomorrow is Clemson vs USC.

I'm forecasting that the team in Columbia will lose, and lose big, in heroic fashion. And that the game will be played with the same result next year, only in a different stadium.

don't ask

... but yesterday I was thankful for black electrical tape.

Otherwise my clumsiness woulda caused that wrench to light up my world.

I was also thankful that I got to see & have lunch with F again:

Indeed.

Who?

Why keep working for a boss who isn't (nor is the least bit concerned with) earning your respect?

All in favor say: Money, opportunity, stability, status, familiarity, fear; Nobody's Perfect

All opposed keep quiet: Familiarity, deceit, simplicity, duplicity, money, fear, The Status Quo; Uh oh.



ps. Intimidation ain't Respect. INTIMIDATION blinds honesty & swallows truth whole.

Self-deception is a hole under the heel that, left unchecked, opens wide enough to devour its creator.

Tech Shout Out;

Thanks to Ken over at AVCLUB for helping me migrate/integrate my gmail boxes with Thunderbird.

Now I can download my emails in one swoop & get back around to reading (and writing a response) without having to be online at the time... oops, look like there's just 685 Unread Messages left before I'm caught up.

Remember, patience is a virtue (I think).

The Faith of Least Resistance

7:53 AM Tuesday

(con't from yesterday's "ACT Like me!")

The past week I’d been wondering (and noticing) whether folks tend to choose the Religion that suits a preconceived notion or need to become infinitely empowered ... by getting God on their side (Gott Mit Uns) … and end up putting the heart before God's course.

Who am I talking about?

Men who embrace a faith that allows them to subordinate women and treat them as inferiors; cite scripture as permission to whup hail outta their kids; condescend to the poor; sneer (especially at folks with more money) and expect God to settle their jealousies & grievances on Judgment Day; ridicule unbelievers; treat other believers with sarcasm and suspicion; argue that Christ would've been a card-carrying member of their political party; who tells others that God has rewarded them materially because of their piety and righteousness; who know the right and only way to do church is the traditional 19th century way; who wouldn't be caught dead in church without a coat n' tie.

Women whose faith empowers them to label more attractive women “sluts;” gossip; interfere with their children's marriages; slander their husbands behind his back; overlook their own vanity and preoccupation with appearances; trust in social status and materialism; subordinate their marriages to indulge the whims of their children; who wouldn't be caught dead in church without make-up.

In general, believers who treat scripture as though it was written as God's personal permission slip for them to keep right on acting and treating others exactly the same way they did before they were saved; Believers who act like they own the team ... instead of belonging to and living for the team's owner.

Writer's Strike?

8 :00 AM Monday

I got stuck behind a utility van doing 30 miles an hour on King’s Road this morning … the driver was lollygagging along, blissfully unaware that I had another appointment with the eye doctor at 9 AM.

He wasn’t in any hurry to get where he was going- even though I was- and he clearly didn’t care how his pace interfered with my mine. The frustratingly slow drive during rush hour, and the inability to pass him or do anything to fix the situation got me to thinking: Can this small annoyance possibly be part of God’s plan for my life?

Why can’t the other guy simply speed up or get out of the way and let me get where I’m going?

I mean, does God want me to show up late for my appointment? Did the author of the universe write an Appointment Late Fee into today’s script? What sense does that make ... especially since it wasn't my fault?

Was the Author of the Universe on a writer's strike?

This sounds trite n' silly but I started wondering: if God allows small trials (like slow-poke drivers and long waiting lines) to show up in today’s pages, then what about when more “difficult” stuff happens? Like the time when …

-Thieves stole all the cameras and video gear I was planning on taking to Africa

-The drunk shows up at night banging on my truck, demanding to know if I’m a “private investigator” and “Who’re you watching?” … for the fifth time

-The guy in the restaurant booth points his finger at me and announces, “I’m gonna cut you open and leave your guts on your shoes”

Were those incidents part of God's plan? Was I being tested ... or being presented with difficulties that were actually opportunities for my faith to bring me closer to Him?

Then something else occurred to me: Why is it important to know? Is my trust dependent on knowing all the reasons, or in knowing Him?

Was I on the King's Road, moving toward my destination, or not?

“Hey You, Stop Sinning … and ACT like me!”

9:02 AM

Why on earth do so many Christians adopt that attitude … and show the world an ugly face filled with judgment, indignation, self-righteous reverence and false piety?

Does the Pharisaical trap have to be even one-tenth the size of our own egos before we stumble and fall into it?

It is an act, after all: None of us died on the cross. None of us died for the sins of the world and none of us was ever physically resurrected and ascended into Heaven … so why judge others ahead of ourselves?

Why not simply “Hate sin and live like Christ” … and let the whole world see Him in us?

a "dirty" joke

2 PM Saturday

Saturday is laundry day and today somebody left this in the dryer with my clothes:

Thing is, it's in my size.

Welcome

Hamburger face

8:00 AM (A personal note from behind The Blue Book)

A few days ago something went wrong, even worse than usual, with the loose flap of flesh on the front of my head that’s what I’ve got for a face.

First my forehead turned red, then my cheeks went splotchy and crusty. The itching got constant that by yesterday I was convinced my visage was either peeling off … or I’m molting. The same way some reptiles outgrow and shed their skin.

Yesterday morning I went to the doctor and presented the symptoms. My worst fears screamed up from my subconscious as he looked my mug over and frowned. I knew it … what I had was not only bad … but contagious & incurable, a disease that would leave me looking like a crocodile’s uncle.

But then, hmmm ... learning I’d contracted a foul fungus that would turn my face into a toadstool didn’t seem so awful, not compared to hearing him tell me the spores of a flesh-eating bacteria had colonized my pores and were hungrily devouring my face.

Finally he shrugged and said, “It’s dry skin. Try using a moisturizer.”

Moisturizer? You mean lotion … a skin care product, for crying out loud? I’ve never even pushed a grocery cart down that aisle … and won’t, not ever.

Not until somebody like Robbie MacAllister starts marketing their own brand of testosterone-laced face balm (and does the infomercials on Spike TV).

-- --

OK it’s been like four irritable, scratchy days now and the front of my head has turned me into a walking snow storm. But I’m resolved to quietly endure my hide’s tantrums because I’d rather be miserable & hideous than seek relief from any sweet-smelling, gummy product - or otherwise do anything to jeopardize the health of my Man Card.

So what did I do--- instead of doing the smart thing & following the doctor’s orders?

I bought a Dirt Devil Extreme Power vacuum instead.

Because a new tool is MANLY … and always good for what ails ya.

Whachawachinthiswknd from Netflix?

1	Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid		11/16/07	11/17/07	Report Problem
2	Guns at Batasi		11/16/07	11/17/07	Report Problem
3	28 Weeks Later		11/16/07	11/17/07	Report Problem
4	Jeeves and Wooster: Season 2: Disc 1		11/05/07	11/06/07	Report Problem
5	The Fog of War		11/05/07	11/06/07	Report Problem
6	Jeeves and Wooster: Season 2: Disc 2		11/05/07	11/06/07	Report Problem

On stagnation, spinning wheels, running in place, falling short, etc

6 of The Pilot's 10 Commandments:

6. Thou shalt be ever mindful of thy fuel lest there be nothing
in thy tank to sustain thee upon the air and thy days be made short.

7. Trust not thine eyes to lead thee through the cloud
lest the Archangel Gabriel await thee therein.

8. Thou shalt not trespass into the thunderstorm
lest the tempest rend the wings from thy chariot
and cast thee naked into the firmament.

9. Put not thy trust in weather prophets,
for when the truth is not in, then they shall not
accompany thee among thy ancestors.

10. Often shalt thou confirm thine airspeed on final
lest the earth rise up and smite thee.

Other flying wisdom & some adages:

No matter what else happens, fly the airplane.

It's better to be down here wishing you were up there,
than up there wishing you were down here.

If you're ever faced with a forced landing at night,
turn on the landing lights to see the landing area.
If you don't like what you see, turn' em back off.

Speed is life, altitude is life insurance.

No one has ever collided with the sky.

Always remember you fly an airplane with your head, not your hands.

Never let an airplane take you somewhere
your brain didn't get to five minutes earlier.

Don't drop the aircraft in order to fly the microphone.

"Unskilled" pilots are always found in the wreckage
with their hand around the microphone.

Dayasagar ... or, Pass the Jesus

7:20 AM Tuesday

Just finished watching "The Bible in Movies" on either The History Channel or Biography, I forget. The title is self-explanatory and the show did a nice job of tracing how Hollywood (and the world film industry in general) has depicted the Bible since motion pictures were introduced.

The first silent films (including Cecile B. DeMille's The King of Kings from 1927) took their cue from Renaissance art and depicted Christ as a bearded, sallow-faced European with long curls.

Then when Technicolor arrived, Christ got a complete Hollywood makeover, including piercingly Nordic blue eyes, a pristine white robe from Wardrobe (just what you'd expect a carpenter to wear) ... and learned to speak with his fingers arranged to symbolize the Trinity.

And more often than not when Christ speaks in the movies, he's speaking Shakespearan (King James) English because, I suppose, "Whether thou goest" somehow sounds more scriptural and reverent than "If you go".

Contrast that familiar depiction of Jesus with the Christ portrayed in Dayasagar (aka Karunamayudu a 1978 production from India). Christ was played by an Indian actor speaking Telugu. Dayasagar used actors, language, costumes and symbols [see the attached frame from the Ascension scene) to make Christ accessible to its intended audience ... and was neither no more nor no less indulgent in that respect than our films use cultural familiarities to make him accessible to us.



During the 1960s several films depicted Jesus as a revolutionary and social activist ... and left his divinity out of the picture completely.

The point is that we want to make Jesus into ourselves ... as if Christ ever looked into a mirror, he'd see our reflection ... our hair, our skin color, our mental image of Him staring back.

We want Christ to belong to us instead of belonging to Him ... and use our conceptions of Him to turn Christ into a far off, stagnant icon who speaks to us in cryptic, 400-year old English from inside the King James box.

Because we're more comfortable and feel more self-righteous keeping the Creator of the universe inside the box we built than we are in actually opening the box ... and feeling His voice speak to our hearts and lives instead.

The Dangerous Book for Boys

I might buy this one for myself ...

Worth sharing

After Darth Junior and his mom left the couple sitting behind me began complaining to the server that folks who'd come in after they had already had their food. The woman wanted to know "what the problem was."

The server explained, "We're waiting on your eggs."

"Why," the mean customer huffed and snorted, "are we waiting on my eggs?"

The server smiled back and told her, "Because the chicken hasn't laid 'em yet."


True.

A daydream date with my daughter

6:34 AM

I was driving to my Lasik follow-up appointment the other morning, listening to a preacher on the radio describe what his daughter’s first dates were gonna be like. Hmmm, how did he have the vision to describe such a thing?

Because he’d already been thinking about it and planning for it. Because the first man his daughter would be dating would be him.

That splash of ear-fuel hitting the brain tank ignited my ADD engine and sent me galloping off with my thoughts … and also explains how I totally spaced-out where I was going and ended up lost for 20 minutes wandering around Brown Road.

At least I came home with a short list.

Impressions of what my daughter should expect on our dates: Not A Literal, Verbatim List

- I’d be so excited to spend time in public with my daughter that I couldn’t wait for Friday (or Saturday) night to roll around. Hopefully she could sense that when I showed up, too.

-I’d be there on time and meet her up at the front door (without whining like a baby with a wet diaper if she was running late; she’s been worth waiting for for this long, after all). And I’d have my phone off for the duration of the evening because she’s worth and deserves my full attention.

-The first thing I’d tell her is “Wow.” And being a young woman she’d know what I meant.

-I’d tell her mom “Thank you” for trusting me, followed by telling her where we were going and what time we’d be back.

-I’d open my daughter’s car door for her. I’d open all her doors for her. I’d walk on the street side of the sidewalk and I’d walk at her arm, behind her … not lunging ahead first so she can tag along behind like a whipped puppy dog looking to be led to the pound.

-Driving to our date, I’d wanna let my daughter know I’m looking forward to spending time with her. Then I’d shut up, give her my undivided attention and let her talk. Without interrupting, getting impatient or changing subjects to suit me.

-Once we were in public, whether we met new people or ran into friends we already knew, I’d introduce her, “I’d like you to meet the most beautiful unmarried woman in the world.”

And continue treating her that way to show her I meant it.

Does that sound silly so far? I don’t care … because there’s a stinger ahead I forgot to mention: If my daughter has a terrible time on our dates, if I turn out to be a dud, if it turns out she’s uncomfortable being around me then she has the choice of whether or not to go out with me again.

Just so she’ll know from the very beginning that she always has the dating-discretion of telling a man No … and isn’t uncomfortable about making that choice and standing by it.

Finally, I’d live up to my word and have her home in time … sober and still respecting herself. (Heck whaddya think, would a goodnight hug on our first date be outta the question? See, affection is part of the dating equation but sex doesn’t have to be … and I’d rather my daughter wasn’t yearning for physical affection from men to compensate for an emotional deficit at home.)

So what would my daughter think of our date? Hopefully she’d have an awesome time, and wake up the next morning glad we went out. Hopefully she’d be eager that I’ll ask her out again soonest.

Maybe even look forward to our next date as much as I would

I hope “Dates with my Daughter” would be a foundation, a chance for us to interact and learn about each other apart from the tedium and stress of daily family interaction. I’d want to give my daughter a chance to see me “in the world” and decide for herself what qualities she’ll find attractive in a man … and be an illustration for comparison when time comes for her to start dating “other” men.

So she’ll spot losers, liars and creeps long before they get a chance to come near the front door.

Gee Papa Fairytale, that’s a pretty picture and all but it’s totally out of touch, boring and unrealistic.

Well, that could say lots about our pasts and who we’ve squandered dates (much less relationships) with … and again points back to this: Believing that sex, drugs, drama and desperation are essential components of “Dating & Relationships” reveals a spectacular lack of imagination.

And a bulging deficit of self-worth /self-control, too.

Hey PS. it’s Sunday … and we’ve got reason to celebrate our hearts (and lungs) out! ILYG and hope you never get tired of knowing it.

Today’s Top 20/20 My Eye's Much Better, Thanks Playlist:

I Can See Clearly Now – Jimmy Cliff

Adaptive Behavior

There's a kid about 8 years old sitting with his mom at a table just about arm's length from me here at HH.

So far the boy's knocked his silverware on the floor, gone out to their car to retrieve his jacket, announced his return by throwing the keys back at mom, spun his chair around on the floor like he's sitting on stool ... I'd keep going but you get the idea.

Is this attention deficit disorder? Yeah ... and mom's got it ... because her attention's burrowed inside today's newspaper.

For whatever reasons (I'm 100% sure they're valid; excuses always are, especially when they're indulgently self-pitying) she's missed noticing her son is out of control. In other words, he's adapted to his environment, and she's become a mute witness to the train wreck that hasn't happened yet.

Awww come on cut them some slack, he's just a kid.

You're right. Give him ten or 20 years and he'll stop adapting and grow out of it.

Hopefully before he shows up in the driveway with a condom in his wallet and blows the horn to take my daughter out on a date.

b/c I'm too old to adapt.

postmortem: doctors of divinity examine Christ

Friday Nov 9 2007 7:14 AM

I was never a very good student, and college proved it. After three full-time years (including summers) I was still a sophomore, and the prospect of graduation still far off on the horizon. Then one afternoon the Dean called me and my folks in for an informative chat.

The Dean closed the sad folder containing copies of my report cards and told my parents, “I don’t find anything here to indicate that Joseph has the ability to do work at the college level” and then booted me out of school because I was "only there taking up space."

Ouch.

Here we are years later, and I take a mental deep breath every time I log onto Blogger with the optimistic intention of sharing what’s on my mind … because you, Dean Reader, might conclude there’s nothing here to indicate that I have the ability to perform at the web level, either.

Well, I feel better telling myself that I’m not actually dropping the intellectual ball when I blog: I’m just dribbling down court as fast as I can.

-- --

Where is the wind
Have you seen it

Where did it go
And how do you know?

You saw it knock down trees
And make the sky howl in storms
Then afterward
Coax one leaf and a drop of dew
Along their separate paths

You heard the its voice like a whisper
Felt its arm on your back

Its finger brush your face
Like a kiss
The breeze
Lingering over your smile

Have you seen where it comes from
Can you follow along
Or know any of the places
It’s going

Can you? Would you?

The wind carries voices into words at your ears
Cradles birds through the sky

Carries butterflies in its palm and
Casts tides against the shore
Molds rain bracelets from silver clouds

Scatters rose petals at your feet
With a caress then
Wraps itself around you and
Whispers life into your lungs

Have you seen it?

Did the wind ever forget or
Ignore you
Or go out of its way
To step around you?

Can you build a wall
That stands taller than the wind?

Can you hold the wind
When it’s swirling all around you?
You already know
Don’t you

It's before you and after you too

Have you seen it?

Can you tell me why it’s waiting
Where it’s going or
Why it's here?

Can you open your arms wide enough
To hold and
Keep it with you
When you feel
It isn't there?

-- -- --

Watched “The Trial of Jesus” Wednesday night on The History Channel. It was fascinating listening to prominent theologians from the world’s most prestigious universities candidly explain that:

-The gospel accounts of Christ’s life are actually fictions
-The only information regarding Christ found in (non-gospel) sources can be summed up with “A man named Jesus was executed by the Romans in about the year 30”
-Christ was merely one of a small crowd of first-century messiahs, spiritual leaders or “magic men” traveling the Judea countryside preaching or prophesying about God’s pending kingdom on earth
-The gospels are derived from oral traditions, rumors and speculation … and thus have nothing to do with facts or historical evidence
-Each gospel was created as a response to answer new doubts as Christianity’s socio-political climate changed

Hmm, thought mr. mud brick as he scratched his empty head and felt more words fall down the spout ...

Without hard evidence, whether from archaeological discoveries or from secular contemporary accounts, academics must torque up their reason-wrenches and three-handed screwdrivers ... shop-worn paradigms and dull deductive tools with names like Hermeneutics, Homiletics, Soteriology (but precious little Pneumatology) … to loosen up “What’s probable” and “It’s reasonable to assume” or “It’s unlikely that" and pop the hood on the gospels and figure out what's underneath .... then impress each other by explaining in tenure-terms exactly what makes Christianity run.

Me? I'm dumber than a jelly roll.

Because I'm pretty sure academic theologians could use the same methods and reasoning to prove the wind ain't real and isn't there, either.

Learning to let go, let it all go

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."

-Galatians 5:22-23

Mechanized Murder & a sexual backfire

Heard rumors back in high school that in earlier years, students enrolled in Driver's Ed were required to watch an educational film with the lurid title Mechanized Murder.

The film was allegedly produced by the Florida Highway Patrol and amounted to a compilation of truly grisly traffic accidents, and showed real victims in the aftermath ... decapitated, burned to death, dismembered or whatever ... to shock and awe 16 year old drivers into driving responsibly and obeying every traffic rule to the letter of the law once they were turned loose on the highway.

Googling to find proof that such a film actually existed's been fruitless so far but it must've existed because a history teacher told us the film was removed from the Driver's Ed program because it back-fired:

Students were either desensitized by the bloody carnage and thought "That'll never happen to me" or became fatalistic, as if the consequences of their driving lives were out of their control. Or worse ... they started laughing because the human, life-changing consequences of the bloody scenes they were witnessing was way beyond their emotional grasp/maturity.

In a nutshell, Mechanized Murder made the situation it was intended to remedy far worse.

Drivers, whether teen aged or not, drive responsibly when they understand how their actions behind the wheel can permanently impact innocent folks ... the other drivers and pedestrians in the street ... or hurt and inflict grief back home on the folks who love them.

My eye is hurting too much to keep typing a parallel to wrap a nice ribbon around a conclusion except for this:

Love Beats Fear, Threats, Intimidation and Legalism Every Time

Those things are the opposite of love... and we've had 2000 years to see it.

When?

When's the last time you felt appreciated?

When's the last time you felt loved?

Can't Miss Seeing This

From The "All OPPOSED Say Eye" Department

Vision still a bit blurry after PRK surgery on the left eye yesterday morning ... but that didn't prevent me from spotting the "GIRLS GONE WILD coming to Anderson" headline on the front page of today's paper.


Blame those terrible billboards for first introducing this kind of filth to our community, I guess. Sure.

Now let's act indignant & react by making signs so we can protest outside the mall during business hours. That'll show 'em.


Thank you BM for the cookies and to PM for taking time from work yesterday to shuttle me back & forth. ILYG!