I feel rusty, logging on here again after being away for three days.
I do.
On the other hand, I've been kinda speechless since finding out Vanilla Ice will be appearing in a new Country MusicTV show ... this one has something to do with celebrities becoming rodeo bull-riders:
Hmmm, I guess neither the boxing nor Pro Jet-Ski racing careers worked out quite like Ice planned.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Ridiculous
I've been off-line since last week, after spending 72 hours on the phone with my laptop manufacturer's tech support department while they tried to figure out why Windows Vista is imcompatible with my computer's spankin' new integrated sound card.
The only solution, after trying everything else, was the jovial FORMAT C: and its lovely companion RE-INSTALL WINDOWS.
So that's where I've been.
The only solution, after trying everything else, was the jovial FORMAT C: and its lovely companion RE-INSTALL WINDOWS.
So that's where I've been.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
It's Saturday - so how about a list of lists
Ever thought about what you'd wanna have along if you knew you'd be stranded on the moon- or on a desert island- for the foreseeable future? Just off the top o' my noggin' ...
CDs
1. Electric Ladyland - Jimi Hendrix
2. Free Live - Free
3. The Complete Recordings - Robert Johnson
4. Santana - Live in South America
5. Jimi Hendrix/Otis Redding: Monterey Pops
6. Regatta Mondatta - The Police
7. Axis: Bold As Love - Jimi Hendrix
8. Johnny Winter And Live - Johnny Winter
9. Fandango - Z.Z. Top
10. Scheherazade - Rimsky-Korsakov
Movies
1. Solaris - 2002
2. Greed - 1924
3. L'Aventurra
4. Grizzly Man
5. Persona
6. The Passion of the Christ
7. Mulholland Drive
8. Sunset Boulevard
9. The Godfather II
10. The Conversation
Books
1. Life Application Study Bible
2. Wanderings of an Elephant Hunter
3. Wind, Sand and Stars
4. Into Thin Air
5. Into the Void
6. A Moveable Feast
7. Farewell the Tusker
8. The Case for Christ
9. A Brief History of Time
CDs
1. Electric Ladyland - Jimi Hendrix
2. Free Live - Free
3. The Complete Recordings - Robert Johnson
4. Santana - Live in South America
5. Jimi Hendrix/Otis Redding: Monterey Pops
6. Regatta Mondatta - The Police
7. Axis: Bold As Love - Jimi Hendrix
8. Johnny Winter And Live - Johnny Winter
9. Fandango - Z.Z. Top
10. Scheherazade - Rimsky-Korsakov
Movies
1. Solaris - 2002
2. Greed - 1924
3. L'Aventurra
4. Grizzly Man
5. Persona
6. The Passion of the Christ
7. Mulholland Drive
8. Sunset Boulevard
9. The Godfather II
10. The Conversation
Books
1. Life Application Study Bible
2. Wanderings of an Elephant Hunter
3. Wind, Sand and Stars
4. Into Thin Air
5. Into the Void
6. A Moveable Feast
7. Farewell the Tusker
8. The Case for Christ
9. A Brief History of Time
Friday, July 27, 2007
Verily I say unto thee, if thou dost rippeth me off ...
I read Perry's post this morning at perrynoble.com and it got me to thinking.
What if you opened your Bible, turned to a certain verse of scripture, and it read something like this:
"It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice."
-Phillipians 1:15-18
Followed by this:
"First edition copyright 74 AD by Paul of Taursus Enterprises Inc., d/b/a The Apostle Paul, Paul the Tentmaker, et. al. Some excerpts previously published by Saul the Persecutor in Pharisee Monthly. All Rights Reserved. No part of this Gospel may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying (including scroll, parchment or hieroglyphs), recording, transcribing or otherwise, without the prior permission in writing of Paul of Taursus Enterprises Inc.
Foreign editions, translations and creeds protected by the Jersusalem International Copyright Association Alliance, and others, through treaty and agreement.
The FBI and INTERPOL investigate allegations of illegal copyright infringement. Unauthorized duplication of copyrighted material, including reproduction for personal use and/or without monetary gain or compensation, is a Federal Offense. Violation may result in severe penalties, both civil and criminal, upon conviction."
Hmmm. I thought sharing and communicating the gospel was what the whole thing was about ... not seeking popular acknowledgment for our keen insights and wit.
I must be dense because I thought that as believers, everything we've got (including our skills and talents) only come from what God's chosen to give us. Aren't we servants after all ... so why should anyone boast, and claim their thoughts and ideas about the gospel are unique and their own?
Where do they think their words are coming from?
Don't selfish egos, Jealousies and Vanities (including urges for fame, acclaim and popularity) all come from paying attention to that other guy ... the one Christ was referring to when he ordered Peter to "get behind me"?
What if you opened your Bible, turned to a certain verse of scripture, and it read something like this:
"It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice."
-Phillipians 1:15-18
Followed by this:
"First edition copyright 74 AD by Paul of Taursus Enterprises Inc., d/b/a The Apostle Paul, Paul the Tentmaker, et. al. Some excerpts previously published by Saul the Persecutor in Pharisee Monthly. All Rights Reserved. No part of this Gospel may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying (including scroll, parchment or hieroglyphs), recording, transcribing or otherwise, without the prior permission in writing of Paul of Taursus Enterprises Inc.
Foreign editions, translations and creeds protected by the Jersusalem International Copyright Association Alliance, and others, through treaty and agreement.
The FBI and INTERPOL investigate allegations of illegal copyright infringement. Unauthorized duplication of copyrighted material, including reproduction for personal use and/or without monetary gain or compensation, is a Federal Offense. Violation may result in severe penalties, both civil and criminal, upon conviction."
Hmmm. I thought sharing and communicating the gospel was what the whole thing was about ... not seeking popular acknowledgment for our keen insights and wit.
I must be dense because I thought that as believers, everything we've got (including our skills and talents) only come from what God's chosen to give us. Aren't we servants after all ... so why should anyone boast, and claim their thoughts and ideas about the gospel are unique and their own?
Where do they think their words are coming from?
Don't selfish egos, Jealousies and Vanities (including urges for fame, acclaim and popularity) all come from paying attention to that other guy ... the one Christ was referring to when he ordered Peter to "get behind me"?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
From the "Snooze n' Lose" Department
Over on Ebay, here's an incredible opportunity to throw our yer anchor and Be Like Ben!
Find out more about the SeaCamper saga here.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Amber Alert
Missing From: 254 Bypass 72 NW , Greenwood, SC
Missing Date: 7/23/2007 12:00 AM
Contact: Greenwood County Sheriff's Office
864-943-8051
Circumstances: The child and the companion
are believed to be with the suspect. They
were last known to be at K-Mart, located at
the listed address. They may be traveling to
California.
Missing Date: 7/23/2007 12:00 AM
Contact: Greenwood County Sheriff's Office
864-943-8051
Circumstances: The child and the companion
are believed to be with the suspect. They
were last known to be at K-Mart, located at
the listed address. They may be traveling to
California.
 |
| ||||||||||||
Suspect
| |||||||||||
Monday, July 23, 2007
More juicy grist from the malicious church rumor mill
Uh oh. I heard a couple of new ones about our church last week.
These arrived just in time, too ... because the old saws about being "A cult", about "Having statues and ATMs in the atrium", about "Not allowing Bibles into the service" and "You can't join that church unless they audit your tax returns" all sound tired & worn by now.
Heck, even the whispers about "That pastor don't wear no shirt!" hardly brings a grin any more.
So here we go. The first is a certified side-splitter; at least I think so (though that's never saying much). :-) The other rumor is included because it's the first one I've heard that just happens to be true.
1. I heard they're hypocrites over there.
I like this one a lot, because for years the rumor had been "That's the church where anything goes!" So if the gossips are now calling us hypocrites, that must mean we've reformed (huh?) ... and moved up the Legalistic-ladder to become The Church Where Nothing's Allowed.
Because to be called Hypocrites, that means first ...
Actually, I have no idea what that means ... or even why I bothered trying to figure it out. Oh well.
2. They're only interested in getting bigger.
If "getting bigger" means pulling out all the stops to make the name of Jesus Christ famous, I guess the gossips finally scored one right between the eyes.
But I'm sure the gossips aimed that punch below the belt, because a church that's "only interested in getting bigger" sure sounds suspicious. Except that's what the body shoulda been doing since that Sunday morning about 1974 years ago, when the angels pointed to the big "Vacancy" sign over Christ's empty tomb and started singing "He is risen!"
Which is the good news the gossips shoulda been sharing all along.
These arrived just in time, too ... because the old saws about being "A cult", about "Having statues and ATMs in the atrium", about "Not allowing Bibles into the service" and "You can't join that church unless they audit your tax returns" all sound tired & worn by now.
Heck, even the whispers about "That pastor don't wear no shirt!" hardly brings a grin any more.
So here we go. The first is a certified side-splitter; at least I think so (though that's never saying much). :-) The other rumor is included because it's the first one I've heard that just happens to be true.
1. I heard they're hypocrites over there.
I like this one a lot, because for years the rumor had been "That's the church where anything goes!" So if the gossips are now calling us hypocrites, that must mean we've reformed (huh?) ... and moved up the Legalistic-ladder to become The Church Where Nothing's Allowed.
Because to be called Hypocrites, that means first ...
Actually, I have no idea what that means ... or even why I bothered trying to figure it out. Oh well.
2. They're only interested in getting bigger.
If "getting bigger" means pulling out all the stops to make the name of Jesus Christ famous, I guess the gossips finally scored one right between the eyes.
But I'm sure the gossips aimed that punch below the belt, because a church that's "only interested in getting bigger" sure sounds suspicious. Except that's what the body shoulda been doing since that Sunday morning about 1974 years ago, when the angels pointed to the big "Vacancy" sign over Christ's empty tomb and started singing "He is risen!"
Which is the good news the gossips shoulda been sharing all along.
Preach like a Lamb?
Not sure I'd heard of Gary Lamb before last night, but I'm glad I was at The Six to see and hear Gary bring it ... all the way from Georgia.
And Georgia being all of and exactly what Georgia is,* that takes a lot of bringin'.
More times than I'd like to admit, sometimes I'm still thinking about the message during the drive back from church, and completely blow past my exit. Is that a big deal? Well, missing my exit means KEEP ON GOING .... all the way to dreaded Georgia (of course) ... before I can turn back around toward civilization.
What I was thinking about last night is this: I was reared (for any folks in Georgia with computers, that means Growed up) in a time when churches were, if not exactly private social clubs, something like charitable clubs ... say, community organizations akin to Moose and Elk Lodges.
In other words you had to get a voted-on approval from the congregation to join up, become a member, and get inside. Some extreme, long-standing churches jealousy guarded their doors and traditions, like a fort or vaulted armory ... except that some churches' spiritual weapons had been kept locked-away for centuries ... and no one seemed to care if their muskets still fired.
Or wondered if their ammunition was all wet from being crated and stacked in storage for so long. Or noticed satellite communications had replaced code words and flag signals. Or realized that technology had brought new weapons like M-16s and M249s on the scene, the pastors insisting instead that traditional muskets were sufficient to engage an enemy armed with AK-47s and RPGs.
Or that like the British during the Revolutionary War, churches still insisted on marching into combat to traditional drum and fiffe music, adorned in their required red jackets n' ties ... easily-spotted uniforms that made convenient targets for patriot sharpshooters dressed in everyday civilian clothes.
Hmmm ... any surprise here that the average church in America today has fewer than 70 members, baptizes a new member once every 3.5 years ... and somehow still never notices or wonders too much why combat losses are catastrophic?
Might seem to some church officers like our Operational Commander lives too far away to notice the numbers highlighted in field reports, but does any one really think the General is pleased by such dismal performance?
Gary's one of those crazy preacher dudes who didn't graduate from Annapolis or West Point, but who still had the courage to recognize it was time to change tactics, and Advance by Attacking. Instead of by retreating in holy huddles behind steeples and stained glass fortresses.
Gary preaches like a Lamb ... if Lambs wore combat boots and carried bandoleers of concussion grenades.
---
The war's still the same; it's the nature of warfare that's changed. Modern warfare no longer consists of military hymns, strictly regimented musket volleys and long-distance cannon exchanges. Combat's gone intensely urban and hi-tech, requiring Radically new strategies (and uniforms) for engaging and overwhelming the enemy.
How do you overwhelm the enemy? By using every weapon and technological advantage available ... and out-numbering his forces in the field doesn't hurt, either.
* My four grandparents all hailed from Georgia, and that makes me a genuine bon-a-fide Cracker from way back. That's why I walk like a flat-footed farmer plowing cotton, and am proud to admit it.
And Georgia being all of and exactly what Georgia is,* that takes a lot of bringin'.
More times than I'd like to admit, sometimes I'm still thinking about the message during the drive back from church, and completely blow past my exit. Is that a big deal? Well, missing my exit means KEEP ON GOING .... all the way to dreaded Georgia (of course) ... before I can turn back around toward civilization.
What I was thinking about last night is this: I was reared (for any folks in Georgia with computers, that means Growed up) in a time when churches were, if not exactly private social clubs, something like charitable clubs ... say, community organizations akin to Moose and Elk Lodges.
In other words you had to get a voted-on approval from the congregation to join up, become a member, and get inside. Some extreme, long-standing churches jealousy guarded their doors and traditions, like a fort or vaulted armory ... except that some churches' spiritual weapons had been kept locked-away for centuries ... and no one seemed to care if their muskets still fired.
Or wondered if their ammunition was all wet from being crated and stacked in storage for so long. Or noticed satellite communications had replaced code words and flag signals. Or realized that technology had brought new weapons like M-16s and M249s on the scene, the pastors insisting instead that traditional muskets were sufficient to engage an enemy armed with AK-47s and RPGs.
Or that like the British during the Revolutionary War, churches still insisted on marching into combat to traditional drum and fiffe music, adorned in their required red jackets n' ties ... easily-spotted uniforms that made convenient targets for patriot sharpshooters dressed in everyday civilian clothes.
Hmmm ... any surprise here that the average church in America today has fewer than 70 members, baptizes a new member once every 3.5 years ... and somehow still never notices or wonders too much why combat losses are catastrophic?
Might seem to some church officers like our Operational Commander lives too far away to notice the numbers highlighted in field reports, but does any one really think the General is pleased by such dismal performance?
Gary's one of those crazy preacher dudes who didn't graduate from Annapolis or West Point, but who still had the courage to recognize it was time to change tactics, and Advance by Attacking. Instead of by retreating in holy huddles behind steeples and stained glass fortresses.
Gary preaches like a Lamb ... if Lambs wore combat boots and carried bandoleers of concussion grenades.
---
The war's still the same; it's the nature of warfare that's changed. Modern warfare no longer consists of military hymns, strictly regimented musket volleys and long-distance cannon exchanges. Combat's gone intensely urban and hi-tech, requiring Radically new strategies (and uniforms) for engaging and overwhelming the enemy.
How do you overwhelm the enemy? By using every weapon and technological advantage available ... and out-numbering his forces in the field doesn't hurt, either.
* My four grandparents all hailed from Georgia, and that makes me a genuine bon-a-fide Cracker from way back. That's why I walk like a flat-footed farmer plowing cotton, and am proud to admit it.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Better than treasure
Most times, I'm pretty sure I've got the best friends in the world. Other times, like tonight, I get solidly reminded that my friends are even better than I could imagine.
Another look at winning
"If you can accept losing, you can't win."
"If you aren't fired with enthusiasm, you will be fired with enthusiasm."
"Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence."
"Winning isn't everything. It's the only thing."
-quotes from Vince Lombardi, NFL Super Bowl Champion football coach, Green Bay Packers
Most successful coach in football history
Sorry, but Coach Lombardi got the last one only half right. What the football legend's most-famous quote shoulda said is this:
"Winning isn't everything. Winning also means kicking down doors inside your opponent's head and smashing his ego, his will and his self-confidence to pieces."
- p. ridgeback
Marina riff-raff
Winning means more than just finishing first. Winning means sending your opponent away gasping in tears, crying like a little girl for her mommy.
Or maybe that's just me?
Professional Wrestling offers too many lessons not to be taken seriously:
"It takes a real gentleman to kick a man when he's down."
-Ox Baker, 6' 5" 340-lb Professional Wrestler
Creator of the deadly "Heart Punch"
Then there's times when winning is literally a matter of life and death.
"There are no second-place winners in a gunfight."
-Bill Jordan
Author, former U.S. Border Patrol Agent and World Speed Draw Champion
Winning's never easy when victory's worthwhile. You gotta want it ... really want it more than anything else in the world ... and not change your mind along the way, when changing seems fun or convenient.
---
Is there anyone among us who actually enjoys losing? I mean, if you're willing to lose intentionally, if you already know the outcome in advance, then why not just stay on the sidelines, and don't bother getting involved? What's the point of being embarrassed and humiliated ... especially when there's no reward and nothing to gain?
---
You wouldn't imagine a winner would allow himself to be mercilessly taunted and ridiculed by his opponents. You wouldn't think a champion would intentionally hold back while being whipped and flailed by enemies ... especially knowing that crucifixion would be the last play called in the final minutes of the fourth.
We all want to win and come out on top ... if not all the time then at least most of the time. Yet when it mattered the most, the Creator of the universe, the king of kings, willingly chose to lose his life so that we could gain ours.
But see, Christ lost his life knowing who'd win on the third day of Sudden Death Overtime, and his resurrection was the ultimate touch-down bomb to the eternal end zone ... and forever proved we could win and have victory through him.
There's only one victory; it comes through Christ ... and none of us can ultimately win without him.
---
Trying to finish first without Christ, whether it's asserting our personal ambitions at work, stubbornly imposing our needs or our agenda in a dating relationship, dictating our will over a spouse or family member, gloating to acquaintances over our financial rewards, insisting on my way of doing things at church, treating others (especially non-believers) with self-righteous smugness and pride, or thinking it's OK to sin just a little bit when I want to all indicate We're Losers ... because we've ignored the victory we received as a gift through following him.
And that we've chosen to finish second when we didn't have to.
"If you aren't fired with enthusiasm, you will be fired with enthusiasm."
"Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence."
"Winning isn't everything. It's the only thing."
-quotes from Vince Lombardi, NFL Super Bowl Champion football coach, Green Bay Packers
Most successful coach in football history
Sorry, but Coach Lombardi got the last one only half right. What the football legend's most-famous quote shoulda said is this:
"Winning isn't everything. Winning also means kicking down doors inside your opponent's head and smashing his ego, his will and his self-confidence to pieces."
- p. ridgeback
Marina riff-raff
Winning means more than just finishing first. Winning means sending your opponent away gasping in tears, crying like a little girl for her mommy.
Or maybe that's just me?
Professional Wrestling offers too many lessons not to be taken seriously:
"It takes a real gentleman to kick a man when he's down."
-Ox Baker, 6' 5" 340-lb Professional Wrestler
Creator of the deadly "Heart Punch"
Then there's times when winning is literally a matter of life and death.
"There are no second-place winners in a gunfight."
-Bill Jordan
Author, former U.S. Border Patrol Agent and World Speed Draw Champion
Winning's never easy when victory's worthwhile. You gotta want it ... really want it more than anything else in the world ... and not change your mind along the way, when changing seems fun or convenient.
---
Is there anyone among us who actually enjoys losing? I mean, if you're willing to lose intentionally, if you already know the outcome in advance, then why not just stay on the sidelines, and don't bother getting involved? What's the point of being embarrassed and humiliated ... especially when there's no reward and nothing to gain?
---
You wouldn't imagine a winner would allow himself to be mercilessly taunted and ridiculed by his opponents. You wouldn't think a champion would intentionally hold back while being whipped and flailed by enemies ... especially knowing that crucifixion would be the last play called in the final minutes of the fourth.
We all want to win and come out on top ... if not all the time then at least most of the time. Yet when it mattered the most, the Creator of the universe, the king of kings, willingly chose to lose his life so that we could gain ours.
But see, Christ lost his life knowing who'd win on the third day of Sudden Death Overtime, and his resurrection was the ultimate touch-down bomb to the eternal end zone ... and forever proved we could win and have victory through him.
There's only one victory; it comes through Christ ... and none of us can ultimately win without him.
---
Trying to finish first without Christ, whether it's asserting our personal ambitions at work, stubbornly imposing our needs or our agenda in a dating relationship, dictating our will over a spouse or family member, gloating to acquaintances over our financial rewards, insisting on my way of doing things at church, treating others (especially non-believers) with self-righteous smugness and pride, or thinking it's OK to sin just a little bit when I want to all indicate We're Losers ... because we've ignored the victory we received as a gift through following him.
And that we've chosen to finish second when we didn't have to.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Most valuable and treasured stuff
Moving from the furnished house where you've lived for almost half your life to a boat that's small enough to be easily towed cross-county behind a pickup truck takes some getting used-to.
Like, I'll bet your sidewalk doesn't creak, groan or sway back and forth with the wind. And your living room probably doesn't rock up and down every time a car goes past on the street.
When friends (or acquaintances I've known for years) find out I sold the old hacienda and moved onto a tiny boat the first thing they ask is usually, "Don't you miss your house?"
The answer is easy: No, not even a single time.
Sure, what people usually identity with Home Ownership is comfort and stability; a sense of security, belonging and permanence.
But here at the marina Comfort and Stability depends on the weather, Belonging is measured by the nylon lines holding Calypso secured in her slip, and Permanence largely depends on how much fuel's in the tanks.
I've said it here before but it's worth saying again: There's nothing like a house fire to prove that freedom doesn't depend on how much you've got ... Freedom depends on how much you're willing to lose.
---
I don't miss having Stuff because Stuff breaks, Stuff has to be onerously insured (because Stuff gets lost or stolen) and eventually Stuff has a tendency to become not just a financial or physical, but also a spiritual, burden.
Stuff doesn't come with only a Price stuck on its label: Stuff arrives delivered to our door with an on-going and overlooked Cost as well . .. and Stuff hardly ever has the exaggerated, inflated Importance and Value we enjoy attaching to it.
In focusing on accumulating, protecting, and maintaining material possessions we attach a false sense of importance to our Stuff. As if we feel defined and measured by our Stuff, no matter whether our Stuff is comprised of cars, boats, jewelry, a vacation house, coin collection, our clothes and shoes ... or photo albums, keepsakes and family heirlooms.
Even if our collection of Stuff included The Hope Diamond , none of our Stuff has any intrinsic value beyond what's assigned to it: Stuff is temporary because Stuff cannot last, endure or become permanent.
It's all only Stuff after all.
In attaching emotional weight and Importance to Stuff we miss seeing that what we've actually anchored to our Stuff isn't Value or Importance at all, but instead the only irreplaceable thing we've got: our souls.
Like, I'll bet your sidewalk doesn't creak, groan or sway back and forth with the wind. And your living room probably doesn't rock up and down every time a car goes past on the street.
When friends (or acquaintances I've known for years) find out I sold the old hacienda and moved onto a tiny boat the first thing they ask is usually, "Don't you miss your house?"
The answer is easy: No, not even a single time.
Sure, what people usually identity with Home Ownership is comfort and stability; a sense of security, belonging and permanence.
But here at the marina Comfort and Stability depends on the weather, Belonging is measured by the nylon lines holding Calypso secured in her slip, and Permanence largely depends on how much fuel's in the tanks.
I've said it here before but it's worth saying again: There's nothing like a house fire to prove that freedom doesn't depend on how much you've got ... Freedom depends on how much you're willing to lose.
---
I don't miss having Stuff because Stuff breaks, Stuff has to be onerously insured (because Stuff gets lost or stolen) and eventually Stuff has a tendency to become not just a financial or physical, but also a spiritual, burden.
Stuff doesn't come with only a Price stuck on its label: Stuff arrives delivered to our door with an on-going and overlooked Cost as well . .. and Stuff hardly ever has the exaggerated, inflated Importance and Value we enjoy attaching to it.
In focusing on accumulating, protecting, and maintaining material possessions we attach a false sense of importance to our Stuff. As if we feel defined and measured by our Stuff, no matter whether our Stuff is comprised of cars, boats, jewelry, a vacation house, coin collection, our clothes and shoes ... or photo albums, keepsakes and family heirlooms.
Even if our collection of Stuff included The Hope Diamond , none of our Stuff has any intrinsic value beyond what's assigned to it: Stuff is temporary because Stuff cannot last, endure or become permanent.
It's all only Stuff after all.
In attaching emotional weight and Importance to Stuff we miss seeing that what we've actually anchored to our Stuff isn't Value or Importance at all, but instead the only irreplaceable thing we've got: our souls.
Happy Birthday to ...
Francis.
I've known Fran for what, three years? Now we're best friends & practically neighbors; at least, she puts up with my Papa-ness and lives just down the street.
Me: Emergent, or Emerging?
Fran: Man, what a moron.
Me, Fran, ORP and fiance L are finally getting together this weekend for dinner at the Marina City cafeteria.
I've known Fran for what, three years? Now we're best friends & practically neighbors; at least, she puts up with my Papa-ness and lives just down the street.
Me: Emergent, or Emerging?Fran: Man, what a moron.
Me, Fran, ORP and fiance L are finally getting together this weekend for dinner at the Marina City cafeteria.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The World Hates Me - 2x updated
Ever felt disappointed because you didn't get something you really wanted, and blamed God because it seemed like his fault?
Was there something (or someone) you really really wanted, but things didn't work out the way you planned ... so the finger-pointing started turning in God's direction?
Yeah, sometimes we're disappointed because it seems God forgot his priorities (or our agendas), and didn't deliver what we wanted exactly when we expected it. Especially when we already had the whole thing figured out, to help save him the trouble.
Well, if God really loves us, then why can't we have what we want ... especially if we're sure the things we want will make us happy?
Just a thought: when we pursue selfish motives, whether goals, ambitions or relationships, does the enemy ever disappoint us, and refuse to let us have what we want? Does the enemy ever step in and say "Not right now," "No, wait" or "I love you too much to let that happen"?
Nope, he doesn't ... because the enemy loves seeing us miserable and separated from God.
Yeah it's hard, but I stop feeling disappointed when I remember and accept there's not been a single time when God's been wrong. About anything.
No, not ever.
"Blessed is the man whom God corrects;
so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty."
- Job 5:17 (NIV)
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
-John 10:10 (NIV)
Was there something (or someone) you really really wanted, but things didn't work out the way you planned ... so the finger-pointing started turning in God's direction?
Yeah, sometimes we're disappointed because it seems God forgot his priorities (or our agendas), and didn't deliver what we wanted exactly when we expected it. Especially when we already had the whole thing figured out, to help save him the trouble.
Well, if God really loves us, then why can't we have what we want ... especially if we're sure the things we want will make us happy?
Just a thought: when we pursue selfish motives, whether goals, ambitions or relationships, does the enemy ever disappoint us, and refuse to let us have what we want? Does the enemy ever step in and say "Not right now," "No, wait" or "I love you too much to let that happen"?
Nope, he doesn't ... because the enemy loves seeing us miserable and separated from God.
Yeah it's hard, but I stop feeling disappointed when I remember and accept there's not been a single time when God's been wrong. About anything.
No, not ever.
"Blessed is the man whom God corrects;
so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty."
- Job 5:17 (NIV)
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
-John 10:10 (NIV)
Monday, July 16, 2007
Up with the sun
Spoke briefly (but cogently) tonight with ORP, who strongly affirmed that "Asleep by 10, up at 5:30" is good solid stuff.
See ... I WAY overslept this morning, finally crawling out of bed around 7 AM, so by 10:30 the day seemed half-over & wasted.
The ONLY THING BETTER than getting up at 5:30 is pushing the clock back further, and further still, till finally it's all the way back to 4 AM. Try it and see.
Serious.
Monday's Double-Split, Pick the Tuesday Trifecta Playlist:
For (married) night owls: We've Got Tonight - Bob Seger
For (single) night owls: Turn the Page - Bob Seger
A medley:
For early birds: Travelin' Man - Bob Seger
For sleepy heads: Beautiful Loser - Bob Seger
For all the folks somewhere in-between: Nutbush City Limits - Bob Seger
See ya tomorrow!
See ... I WAY overslept this morning, finally crawling out of bed around 7 AM, so by 10:30 the day seemed half-over & wasted.
The ONLY THING BETTER than getting up at 5:30 is pushing the clock back further, and further still, till finally it's all the way back to 4 AM. Try it and see.
Serious.
Monday's Double-Split, Pick the Tuesday Trifecta Playlist:
For (married) night owls: We've Got Tonight - Bob Seger
For (single) night owls: Turn the Page - Bob Seger
A medley:
For early birds: Travelin' Man - Bob Seger
For sleepy heads: Beautiful Loser - Bob Seger
For all the folks somewhere in-between: Nutbush City Limits - Bob Seger
See ya tomorrow!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Yup
"I don't like to hear cut-and-dried sermons. No--when I hear a man preach, I like to see him act as if he were fighting bees."
-Abraham Lincoln
-Abraham Lincoln
personal request re: Facebook?
Can somebody help answer a question about Facebook?
Over the past week I've got four new "Friends" but have absolutely no idea who these people are or how they ended up on my Friends list. Never even had to click "Add to Friends" ... yet they somehow showed up.
I sent e-mails asking "Do I know you?" and it turns out they don't know me, either ... so what's up with that?
Over the past week I've got four new "Friends" but have absolutely no idea who these people are or how they ended up on my Friends list. Never even had to click "Add to Friends" ... yet they somehow showed up.
I sent e-mails asking "Do I know you?" and it turns out they don't know me, either ... so what's up with that?
Aloha and HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!
to McD.
Thanks for reminding us that praise and worship reveals our joy from knowing Christ.
Dude, you rock.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Courage!
"Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared."
-Eddie Rickenbacker
World War I Fighter Pilot
America's First Ace
Congressional Medal of Honor recipient
-Eddie Rickenbacker
World War I Fighter Pilot
America's First Ace
Congressional Medal of Honor recipient
Don't Toss in your Trash - UPDATED
I used to carry an empty sheet rock bucket around in the back of the truck because it just happened to be the perfect height to turn upside down, and use as a portable work-seat.
Notice I said used to.
But recently I grabbed the bucket to help bail out a boat that was suffering from a slight leak in its engine compartment. And instead of carrying the bucket straight back to the truck, I lazily left it on my slip next to the dock box.
So whaddya think happened next?
Almost overnight, my combo "work stool/bailing bucket" got turned into The Public Trash Can: I had no idea so many people walked around carrying trash and filth on their backs. Greasy rags, soda cans, empty oil bottles, candy wrappers, beer bottles, cigarette wrappers and stuff I can't even identify magically appeared ... as if from nowhere.
But why dump it on me?
Because, obviously, people think disposing of their personal garbage is urgent and important, and don't mind dumping it off whenever given the chance. Because it's convenient. Because their garbage creates an immediate need. Because spilling their trash on someone else seems too small and insignificant to even consider potential consequences.
No no no ... the worst part of the story is that after a few days of staring at other peoples' trash, the idea of emptying it all out & getting rid of it started looking like too much trouble ... and so I started using my work-seat as a trash can, too!
To me my bucket is more than white plastic and a handle: when put to work the bucket becomes an essential and worthwhile tool. Even though some other people have little consideration for tools, and only see an object that's opportunely available for their convenience.
---
Naaaah, I'm not gonna be settling scores tonight, untying dock lines or loosening drain plugs on boats belonging to suspected culprits. (Even if I thought revenge had been left up to me, that sort of Payback would be interpreted as Excessive for such a tiny Dis. And Excessive has pretty broad margins out here where I live) .
Not leaving my bucket (or any other tool) exposed, where anyone walking by can take advantage by tossing in their garbage, or even steal them from me, is totally up to me ... and staying trash-free completely my responsibility.
Notice I said used to.
But recently I grabbed the bucket to help bail out a boat that was suffering from a slight leak in its engine compartment. And instead of carrying the bucket straight back to the truck, I lazily left it on my slip next to the dock box.
So whaddya think happened next?
Almost overnight, my combo "work stool/bailing bucket" got turned into The Public Trash Can: I had no idea so many people walked around carrying trash and filth on their backs. Greasy rags, soda cans, empty oil bottles, candy wrappers, beer bottles, cigarette wrappers and stuff I can't even identify magically appeared ... as if from nowhere.
But why dump it on me?
Because, obviously, people think disposing of their personal garbage is urgent and important, and don't mind dumping it off whenever given the chance. Because it's convenient. Because their garbage creates an immediate need. Because spilling their trash on someone else seems too small and insignificant to even consider potential consequences.
No no no ... the worst part of the story is that after a few days of staring at other peoples' trash, the idea of emptying it all out & getting rid of it started looking like too much trouble ... and so I started using my work-seat as a trash can, too!
To me my bucket is more than white plastic and a handle: when put to work the bucket becomes an essential and worthwhile tool. Even though some other people have little consideration for tools, and only see an object that's opportunely available for their convenience.
---
Naaaah, I'm not gonna be settling scores tonight, untying dock lines or loosening drain plugs on boats belonging to suspected culprits. (Even if I thought revenge had been left up to me, that sort of Payback would be interpreted as Excessive for such a tiny Dis. And Excessive has pretty broad margins out here where I live) .
Not leaving my bucket (or any other tool) exposed, where anyone walking by can take advantage by tossing in their garbage, or even steal them from me, is totally up to me ... and staying trash-free completely my responsibility.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Maintaining Maneuverability in Combat
Years ago I knew a guy named C who'd been an Army tank captain in the Vietnam War, before transferring to flight school and becoming a combat helicopter pilot.
C had seen his share of action, both on the ground and in the air, and didn't need much prodding to share his war stories with us wide-eyed teenagers. One of the most poignant things I remember is C telling my brother and I what his "first time" in combat was like as he described the sound of live bullets whizzing just a few feet past his head.
C's first impulse was to jump up and start shouting, "Hey! Why are you guys shooting at me? Don't you know somebody could get hurt?!" Obviously, that was an impulse C resisted: instead, he picked up his weapon and started firing back.
Which goes a long way to explain why C was still around, and able to tell others what combat was really like.
---
As a guy over draft age, one of the most terrifying things imaginable is the idea of being in combat, and being overwhelmed and wiped-out.
One day I finally asked C, "So in combat, how do you know when you're in danger of being over-run and wiped out?" His answer was simple and abundantly clear: "A team, squad, platoon, or whatever, is pinned down and in danger of being overwhelmed when it's unable to identify the direction of the attack, lost its ability to maneuver, and can no longer engage the enemy at will."
Being pinned down and unable to maneuver means being stuck in one place, vulnerable to attack from every direction, including the flanks and the rear, unable to tell what direction the bullets are coming from ... while the enemy advances and surrounds you. And finding yourself surrounded means Getting Annihilated is the next appointment in your personal day planner.
In other words, if there's so much lead hitting the dirt around your head that you can't move to a position that allows you to fight back, you're pretty much stuck with keeping your face flat on the ground ... and hoping (praying?) the enemy either runs out of ammunition, or somehow forgets that you're there.
What about staying alive flying combat helicopters? C's answer there was simple as well: You gotta stay outta range of anything the enemy's got that can reach out and touch you.
Hmmm.
---
I don't see satan as a cartoon character, or as a figurative metaphor for "the 21st century abstraction of evil." I believe the devil is real because scripture says so ... and that he's called the enemy for good reason.
Satan's already declared war on believers, engaged us in spiritual warfare, and is determined to pin us down. If the enemy eliminates our ability to maneuver in combat, he's wide open to attack us from every angle, until finally we're surrounded. And once we're surrounded, his forces are free to overwhelm and destroy our defenses.
For the enemy, victory means wiping us out ... down to the last man left alive.
---
Hey Satan, Why Are You Shooting at Me?
You could be thinking, Ha! The devil can't pin me down! How's he ever gonna keep me from maneuvering and fighting back?
Well, if you've got your hands full fighting up front, how're you gonna notice who's sneaking around back, or attacking your vulnerable flank? Or be able to tell where the attack's coming from?
Could be aimed at our personal finances. Or at a marriage or dating relationship ... or simply at how we treat others in our day-to-day lives. Could come from a flirtatious associate at work, or in the temptation to slide an inflated figure past an insurance claim. Maybe the next attack could even come from inside our churches.
---
-A believer who's owned by the credit card company (instead of the Holy Spirit) may not want to accept it, but he's already pinned down by his financial mistakes.
-A believer who's emotionally distracted by a romantic relationship with a non-believer might also be too distracted to notice they're being surrounded in the place they're most vulnerable.
-A believer who sets his faith aside to achieve financial success and material rewards by putting his career ahead of his family might have trouble accepting that he's vulnerable to being overwhelmed and wiped out.
-A church that's more concerned with preserving its own rituals and traditions; a church whose reason for existence has become merely satisfying the needs of its members; a church that has put serving and following Christ in second place is not only pinned down ... it's also lost its ability to identify and engage the enemy.
-A church that's stationary and static about its commitment to share and preach the gospel of Jesus Christ is stuck in its foxhole, and can no longer tell where the attack's coming from. It's lost its ability to maneuver and fight (except with each other). A stagnant church, one that hides and ducks from the enemy, will never notice it's about to be attacked from all sides at once.
-A church that puts its highest priority on steeples, organ music and stained glass windows is leaving its flanks (like say, its Youth Department) dangerously exposed to spiritual attack and annihilation. That church has already been surrounded and is just waiting to be overwhelmed and wiped out ... down to the last child and teenager.
Chances are that church's Post-Combat Casualty Report will indicate the members were busy arguing about flowers, dress codes, music and paint colors ... and never noticed the enemy had already moved into position to attack.
C had seen his share of action, both on the ground and in the air, and didn't need much prodding to share his war stories with us wide-eyed teenagers. One of the most poignant things I remember is C telling my brother and I what his "first time" in combat was like as he described the sound of live bullets whizzing just a few feet past his head.
C's first impulse was to jump up and start shouting, "Hey! Why are you guys shooting at me? Don't you know somebody could get hurt?!" Obviously, that was an impulse C resisted: instead, he picked up his weapon and started firing back.
Which goes a long way to explain why C was still around, and able to tell others what combat was really like.
---
As a guy over draft age, one of the most terrifying things imaginable is the idea of being in combat, and being overwhelmed and wiped-out.
One day I finally asked C, "So in combat, how do you know when you're in danger of being over-run and wiped out?" His answer was simple and abundantly clear: "A team, squad, platoon, or whatever, is pinned down and in danger of being overwhelmed when it's unable to identify the direction of the attack, lost its ability to maneuver, and can no longer engage the enemy at will."
Being pinned down and unable to maneuver means being stuck in one place, vulnerable to attack from every direction, including the flanks and the rear, unable to tell what direction the bullets are coming from ... while the enemy advances and surrounds you. And finding yourself surrounded means Getting Annihilated is the next appointment in your personal day planner.
In other words, if there's so much lead hitting the dirt around your head that you can't move to a position that allows you to fight back, you're pretty much stuck with keeping your face flat on the ground ... and hoping (praying?) the enemy either runs out of ammunition, or somehow forgets that you're there.
What about staying alive flying combat helicopters? C's answer there was simple as well: You gotta stay outta range of anything the enemy's got that can reach out and touch you.
Hmmm.
---
I don't see satan as a cartoon character, or as a figurative metaphor for "the 21st century abstraction of evil." I believe the devil is real because scripture says so ... and that he's called the enemy for good reason.
Satan's already declared war on believers, engaged us in spiritual warfare, and is determined to pin us down. If the enemy eliminates our ability to maneuver in combat, he's wide open to attack us from every angle, until finally we're surrounded. And once we're surrounded, his forces are free to overwhelm and destroy our defenses.
For the enemy, victory means wiping us out ... down to the last man left alive.
---
Hey Satan, Why Are You Shooting at Me?
You could be thinking, Ha! The devil can't pin me down! How's he ever gonna keep me from maneuvering and fighting back?
Well, if you've got your hands full fighting up front, how're you gonna notice who's sneaking around back, or attacking your vulnerable flank? Or be able to tell where the attack's coming from?
Could be aimed at our personal finances. Or at a marriage or dating relationship ... or simply at how we treat others in our day-to-day lives. Could come from a flirtatious associate at work, or in the temptation to slide an inflated figure past an insurance claim. Maybe the next attack could even come from inside our churches.
---
-A believer who's owned by the credit card company (instead of the Holy Spirit) may not want to accept it, but he's already pinned down by his financial mistakes.
-A believer who's emotionally distracted by a romantic relationship with a non-believer might also be too distracted to notice they're being surrounded in the place they're most vulnerable.
-A believer who sets his faith aside to achieve financial success and material rewards by putting his career ahead of his family might have trouble accepting that he's vulnerable to being overwhelmed and wiped out.
-A church that's more concerned with preserving its own rituals and traditions; a church whose reason for existence has become merely satisfying the needs of its members; a church that has put serving and following Christ in second place is not only pinned down ... it's also lost its ability to identify and engage the enemy.
-A church that's stationary and static about its commitment to share and preach the gospel of Jesus Christ is stuck in its foxhole, and can no longer tell where the attack's coming from. It's lost its ability to maneuver and fight (except with each other). A stagnant church, one that hides and ducks from the enemy, will never notice it's about to be attacked from all sides at once.
-A church that puts its highest priority on steeples, organ music and stained glass windows is leaving its flanks (like say, its Youth Department) dangerously exposed to spiritual attack and annihilation. That church has already been surrounded and is just waiting to be overwhelmed and wiped out ... down to the last child and teenager.
Chances are that church's Post-Combat Casualty Report will indicate the members were busy arguing about flowers, dress codes, music and paint colors ... and never noticed the enemy had already moved into position to attack.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
No Go at the starting line
Ya'll already know I follow Formula 1 racing as much as I can.
Never mind Champ cars, Indy cars or even NASCARs. Compared to Formula 1 racing they're all junk: no other form of automobile racing even pretends to try fitting 900 horsepower engines into a 1000-pound monocue chassis to go road-racing at 200+ mph top speeds for 90 minutes, much less tackling corners at 5 G's or decelerating into turns at 7 G's.
Performance like that would snap the wings off private aircraft and is only exceeded when jet fighters are engaged in air-to-air combat. But Formula 1 races are often held on (closed) city streets. Like the ones you and I drive on.
The downside (and naturally there is one) is that Formula 1 cars cost upwards of $1 million bucks each ... and no team competes for a full season with just one car. That's a high price to pay, but then the only goals are all-out performance, driver protection and durability.
Not hard to imagine how team owners must cringe every time they see their drivers slide sideways into a restraining wall at 180mph, and crunch a million dollar investment into high-tech shards and pocket-sized souvenirs.
There's a way, of course, to avoid crashing, ruining cars and risking drivers' lives: it's by sitting still, and never leaving the starting line.
Wouldn't it be AWESOME and THRILLING to see twenty million bucks worth of high-tech automotive engineering roll onto the track, show off their paint jobs, pull up to the starting line, rev their screaming engines in anticipation of the green light ... and then shut down the instant the starting light turns GREEN?
Wouldn't that be safer than taking chances and risk breaking a car? Wouldn't playing it safe be better than risk seeing a driver crash and possibly get hurt?
Wouldn't Playing It Safe be better than actually getting out on the track and racing?
After the race, wouldn't it be exciting listening to drivers talk about their race strategies, hint about how their cars might have performed, and how they would've whipped their opponent ... if only there'd actually been a race?
Wouldn't it be fascinating for race fans to sit around and congregate in committees, studying the results and getting deeper into racing, solemnly and reverently discussing What could've happened if the cars had ever left the starting line?
---
A driver who doesn't believe he can win, that he will win every race every time, regardless of fear or the danger of crashing; a driver who ignores his car's potential, a competitor who plays it safe by switching off his 1000-horsepower engine at the starting line rather than drive the car right up to the edge, at full-speed as it's intended ... isn't participating in the race at all. He's merely creating an obstacle on the track, hindering other drivers who are committed to running, and winning, every race.
No matter the danger. No matter the risk of crashing ... or fear of failing.
Huh?
"Strangers passing in the street
by chance two passing glances meet.
I am you and what I see
is me."
- Roger Waters
by chance two passing glances meet.
I am you and what I see
is me."
- Roger Waters
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Something surprising about satan
Sinning sure sounds like fun.
We set aside our favorite sins and keep them secret because those sins seem like the most fun. Even if we ask God to forgive us, that prayer might be a little half-hearted, because the other half of our heart isn't willing or ready to give up our "little" most-fun sins.
We might even feel a little uncomfortable recognizing that, given the chance, we can hardly wait to have another go and indulge in our favorite sin.
Yup, we're convinced that not only is our favorite sin FUN ... but also that our favorite sin ain't really or is just a little sinning.
Here's the deal: it's funny as heck picturing the devil as a red-suited little cartoon guy with horns and a pitchfork who sits on one shoulder (opposite the cherub on the far side) whispering "Come on, who's gonna know? Go ahead and do it ... you know you want to."
But scripture, not pop psychology or the latest best seller, is God's authoritative word: the enemy is real (so are demons), and he's deceptively dangerous, determined and deadly.
When we're struggling with temptation, satan doesn't throw brimstone on the fire and ask "Who's it gonna hurt?" because he's right and the Bible's wrong. Or because he's actually a nice guy, like a long-lost friend or distant uncle, who only wants us to "be happy" or see us "enjoy life" and "have fun."
Nope, that's not what the enemy's about at all. He tells us A little sin is an OK sin because Surprise! ... Satan hates us.
He's thrilled and loves seeing us tormented and suffering as a consequence of our sins. Especially when that suffering could easily have been avoided by listening to God instead ... even if hearing Him didn't sound like as much fun as listening to satan did at the time.
The truth is that the enemy hates us so much he wants to see every one of us suffering for eternity beside him. Does that kinda change the image of a cartoon guy into a creature that's really, really hateful and evil?
The enemy and his buds encourage our little sins by whispering Who's it gonna hurt, Who's gonna know, and You know you want to all sound good, "normal" and even "healthy" ... because satan's the father of lies. And like all proud fathers, satan likes having his kids around.
The enemy pretends to be sympathetic and "on our side" to make it easier to convince us our little sins aren't hurting anybody.
Even though "It's a little sin!" is a BIG lie and one of his favorites .
After all, the lie we're most vulnerable to is the lie we're most eager and anxious to believe.
We set aside our favorite sins and keep them secret because those sins seem like the most fun. Even if we ask God to forgive us, that prayer might be a little half-hearted, because the other half of our heart isn't willing or ready to give up our "little" most-fun sins.
We might even feel a little uncomfortable recognizing that, given the chance, we can hardly wait to have another go and indulge in our favorite sin.
Yup, we're convinced that not only is our favorite sin FUN ... but also that our favorite sin ain't really or is just a little sinning.
Here's the deal: it's funny as heck picturing the devil as a red-suited little cartoon guy with horns and a pitchfork who sits on one shoulder (opposite the cherub on the far side) whispering "Come on, who's gonna know? Go ahead and do it ... you know you want to."
But scripture, not pop psychology or the latest best seller, is God's authoritative word: the enemy is real (so are demons), and he's deceptively dangerous, determined and deadly.
When we're struggling with temptation, satan doesn't throw brimstone on the fire and ask "Who's it gonna hurt?" because he's right and the Bible's wrong. Or because he's actually a nice guy, like a long-lost friend or distant uncle, who only wants us to "be happy" or see us "enjoy life" and "have fun."
Nope, that's not what the enemy's about at all. He tells us A little sin is an OK sin because Surprise! ... Satan hates us.
He's thrilled and loves seeing us tormented and suffering as a consequence of our sins. Especially when that suffering could easily have been avoided by listening to God instead ... even if hearing Him didn't sound like as much fun as listening to satan did at the time.
The truth is that the enemy hates us so much he wants to see every one of us suffering for eternity beside him. Does that kinda change the image of a cartoon guy into a creature that's really, really hateful and evil?
The enemy and his buds encourage our little sins by whispering Who's it gonna hurt, Who's gonna know, and You know you want to all sound good, "normal" and even "healthy" ... because satan's the father of lies. And like all proud fathers, satan likes having his kids around.
The enemy pretends to be sympathetic and "on our side" to make it easier to convince us our little sins aren't hurting anybody.
Even though "It's a little sin!" is a BIG lie and one of his favorites .
After all, the lie we're most vulnerable to is the lie we're most eager and anxious to believe.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Having Faith;Thinking VISUALLY about believing
A few days ago I shot some video footage during the tornado that just missed clobbering the marina.
Even while I was holding the camera with one hand and whatever grab handle was available with the other, I remember glimpsing back and forth from the viewfinder to the live tumult threatening to knock me off my feet and thinking, "Things just don't look that bad on the screen."
Can you just believe me when I say the boat was rolling past 45 degrees?
The next day I got a few shots of the storm's aftermath:
Above: this is the ramp to my house. I mean boat.
Dock 4 [above] broke loose from its cables & created a dilemma, "How do I get there from here?"
Answer: Sideways, I reckon.
Above [two images]: Dock 4 broke loose at both ends, and began its seasonal migration south with Dock 3.
Dock 10 (above) also broke entirely free, and finally came ashore on the beach.
---
I know this is gonna be hard if you're at work but if you've been skimming and skipped watching the video, try watching it now on a full-screen window, with the volume turned up. Like, as loud as if you'd actually been there.
Now imagine it's not daylight but 3 AM, and somebody asks you to climb out of Calypso and walk on the water to where they're standing, on the dock you seeing getting pummeled in the background.
Could ya do it? Would ya even think about trying, like Peter did?
Didn't grasp till Alden's message yesterday morning what it would've been like stepping off a tiny boat during a bad, bad storm at night to try walking on water.
But it also sunk in that if I actually had faith enough to absolutely trust and follow when Jesus said "Yes, come," then the waves and insignificant storms in my life would never even splash my shoes.
Even while I was holding the camera with one hand and whatever grab handle was available with the other, I remember glimpsing back and forth from the viewfinder to the live tumult threatening to knock me off my feet and thinking, "Things just don't look that bad on the screen."
Can you just believe me when I say the boat was rolling past 45 degrees?
The next day I got a few shots of the storm's aftermath:
Above: this is the ramp to my house. I mean boat.
Dock 4 [above] broke loose from its cables & created a dilemma, "How do I get there from here?"
Answer: Sideways, I reckon.
Above [two images]: Dock 4 broke loose at both ends, and began its seasonal migration south with Dock 3.
Dock 10 (above) also broke entirely free, and finally came ashore on the beach.---
I know this is gonna be hard if you're at work but if you've been skimming and skipped watching the video, try watching it now on a full-screen window, with the volume turned up. Like, as loud as if you'd actually been there.
Now imagine it's not daylight but 3 AM, and somebody asks you to climb out of Calypso and walk on the water to where they're standing, on the dock you seeing getting pummeled in the background.
Could ya do it? Would ya even think about trying, like Peter did?
Didn't grasp till Alden's message yesterday morning what it would've been like stepping off a tiny boat during a bad, bad storm at night to try walking on water.
But it also sunk in that if I actually had faith enough to absolutely trust and follow when Jesus said "Yes, come," then the waves and insignificant storms in my life would never even splash my shoes.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Wired-less
Last night my MISP [marina internet service provider] apparently unplugged his cable from his wireless router to watch NASCAR on TV, which left me sans signal. Last time I checked this afternoon, he was watching golf.
All of this to explain why I'm back to driving around at night like Diogenes with a lantern, looking for one honest wireless connection.
Surely more tomorrow.
Lala salama papa hapa, na Bwana Yesu ni maliki.
All of this to explain why I'm back to driving around at night like Diogenes with a lantern, looking for one honest wireless connection.
Surely more tomorrow.
Lala salama papa hapa, na Bwana Yesu ni maliki.
Frantastically Frugal
Maybe that’s why immediately after dinner, Fran drove us straight into town for some crucial shopping. On the way we made one detour so I could buy a CD, but even before that I had to gape, stare and drool over the plasma TVs on display.
At Target Fran picked out two plastic bins for my laundry so I’d have better luck telling Clean and Dirty apart.
The cashier rang up my new laundry bins but missed seeing the two notebooks. I reached for my debit card but shoulda saved myself the trouble.
Fran’s known me a long time and must’ve quietly sensed my manly ego hadn’t just been stung; it’d been plucked out, whipped silly, re-fried with beans and handed back to me on a platter with a big slice of lemon.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
I Need An Outlet
Actually, I need several.
I spent a good part of yesterday morning tunneling through the stuff in my mini-warehouse and finally retrieved several mini-DV tapes from my 2005 trip to Tanzania because I was anxious to try laptop video-editing using the G-Raid hard drive.
Calypso's only got one wall outlet within reach of the computer ... and with the new G-Raid I need one more (two would be even better).
Now, where did I put that drill ....?
I spent a good part of yesterday morning tunneling through the stuff in my mini-warehouse and finally retrieved several mini-DV tapes from my 2005 trip to Tanzania because I was anxious to try laptop video-editing using the G-Raid hard drive.
Calypso's only got one wall outlet within reach of the computer ... and with the new G-Raid I need one more (two would be even better).
Now, where did I put that drill ....?
Friday, July 6, 2007
Roots & Berries; Not seeing the forest for the fib trees
"Aw come on, it's just a little lie ..." But is there really any such thing as a little lie?
I'm not exactly a theologian, but I tried to think of a sin that doesn't start with a lie, and couldn't think of a single one. Stealing, cheating, adultery, lust, envy and even murder all take root and begin branching from nothing larger than the seeds of a first lie.
Whether we lie to someone else to get the result we're after, mock God by thinking he doesn't know our hearts, or mislead ourselves about the consequences of our actions it's all still the same ugly thing: Lying.
If a tree has branches that reach a hundred feet in the air, we're told that same tree has roots that reach a hundred feet underground too. Down there in the dark, where you can't see them. A tree's branches might seem magnificent and imposing from where we're standing, but it's the hidden roots underneath that keep the tree anchored where it stands.
Lies are a lot like trees, too.
Trees scatter their fruit, seeds or berries from their branches and produce more trees identical to themselves. And is there any scientist who can look at a forest, and tell which tree came first?
One little lie works the same way. A single seed falling from one lie inevitably creates more lies. Until not even the person who tells lies can tell which one came first.
I'm not exactly a theologian, but I tried to think of a sin that doesn't start with a lie, and couldn't think of a single one. Stealing, cheating, adultery, lust, envy and even murder all take root and begin branching from nothing larger than the seeds of a first lie.
Whether we lie to someone else to get the result we're after, mock God by thinking he doesn't know our hearts, or mislead ourselves about the consequences of our actions it's all still the same ugly thing: Lying.
If a tree has branches that reach a hundred feet in the air, we're told that same tree has roots that reach a hundred feet underground too. Down there in the dark, where you can't see them. A tree's branches might seem magnificent and imposing from where we're standing, but it's the hidden roots underneath that keep the tree anchored where it stands.
Lies are a lot like trees, too.
Trees scatter their fruit, seeds or berries from their branches and produce more trees identical to themselves. And is there any scientist who can look at a forest, and tell which tree came first?
One little lie works the same way. A single seed falling from one lie inevitably creates more lies. Until not even the person who tells lies can tell which one came first.
Just when you thought it was safe to go back outside ...
(humor)
I slept better at night knowing Capri Pants for Men never caught on, despite obstinate pressure from New York fashion gurus.
That's all changed ... cause I just found out there's something worse.
Much, much worse. That's right.
In case you haven't already heard, enjoy your first glimpse of Whale Pants for Men:
Kinda makes ya wanna reach for grand-dad's trusty ol' harpoon, doesn't it?
Tomorrow's Saturday, How far's the Pickens range from here? Playlist:
Bulls on Parade - Rage Against the Machine
ps. My hearing's shot, so the lyrics are unintelligible to my ears ... just as well.
I slept better at night knowing Capri Pants for Men never caught on, despite obstinate pressure from New York fashion gurus.
That's all changed ... cause I just found out there's something worse.
Much, much worse. That's right.
In case you haven't already heard, enjoy your first glimpse of Whale Pants for Men:
Kinda makes ya wanna reach for grand-dad's trusty ol' harpoon, doesn't it?Tomorrow's Saturday, How far's the Pickens range from here? Playlist:
Bulls on Parade - Rage Against the Machine
ps. My hearing's shot, so the lyrics are unintelligible to my ears ... just as well.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
It wasn't me (was it really?)
Say, what's that in your queue? Department
Since there's nothing ever worth watching on TV, I bit the debit card bullet again and re-activated my NetFlix account.
To my relief I still had 57 movies parked in my queue. But to my horror, the queue that is mine just mailed me:
La Strada - Special Edition
A Face in the Crowd
Ikiru
I can't believe those are movies I'd pick. Not even if I was trying to be nice or do someone a favor.
Wow. Wonder if there's a computer virus that causes such things?
Since there's nothing ever worth watching on TV, I bit the debit card bullet again and re-activated my NetFlix account.
To my relief I still had 57 movies parked in my queue. But to my horror, the queue that is mine just mailed me:
La Strada - Special Edition
A Face in the Crowd
Ikiru
I can't believe those are movies I'd pick. Not even if I was trying to be nice or do someone a favor.
Wow. Wonder if there's a computer virus that causes such things?
Caution: Contents Are Perishable
On an October Sunday morning about 12 years ago, I drove home from the McCant's track and found my house on fire. Firemen, ladder trucks and police cars were already on the scene and I remember thinking, "But I haven't been gone that long."
A newspaper reporter found me on the sidewalk and said, "People are usually crying and screaming when they see their houses on fire. Why are you so calm?"
I shook my head and shrugged, "What else can I do?"
---
If you've never had a house fire it might be hard to imagine how it feels once the police have finished their reports, after the firemen have rolled up their hoses and headed back to the station, after the gawkers have stopped staring, lost interest and wandered off hoping they caught good something in their cameras.
You're left alone with what used to be your stuff.
It's not just the crushing sense of helplessness, of being overwhelmed by the fierce suddenness of events or even the pity-provoking barbs like, "Why me?"
There's also a numbing awareness that Today, I Am the Other Guy ... and that so far as all the people watching the story on tonight's local news are concerned, your fire and its aftermath only lasts as long as it takes for the screen to blink with the next big tragic story.
---
Having fire insurance is great when you need it, but "Full Content Coverage" only works on paper ... because who's gonna pay for emotional repairs and replacements? What amount can replace all the things that, only a day before, had seemed irreplaceable? What amount can change me back from being The Other Guy?
---
If I had a point when I started, it's gone now and I can't remember what it was. Except perhaps that a fire has a profoundly painful, permanent way of re-ordering your priorities and outlook.
And not to trust or rely upon the security or pursuit of material possessions ever again.
A newspaper reporter found me on the sidewalk and said, "People are usually crying and screaming when they see their houses on fire. Why are you so calm?"
I shook my head and shrugged, "What else can I do?"
---
If you've never had a house fire it might be hard to imagine how it feels once the police have finished their reports, after the firemen have rolled up their hoses and headed back to the station, after the gawkers have stopped staring, lost interest and wandered off hoping they caught good something in their cameras.
You're left alone with what used to be your stuff.
It's not just the crushing sense of helplessness, of being overwhelmed by the fierce suddenness of events or even the pity-provoking barbs like, "Why me?"
There's also a numbing awareness that Today, I Am the Other Guy ... and that so far as all the people watching the story on tonight's local news are concerned, your fire and its aftermath only lasts as long as it takes for the screen to blink with the next big tragic story.
---
Having fire insurance is great when you need it, but "Full Content Coverage" only works on paper ... because who's gonna pay for emotional repairs and replacements? What amount can replace all the things that, only a day before, had seemed irreplaceable? What amount can change me back from being The Other Guy?
---
If I had a point when I started, it's gone now and I can't remember what it was. Except perhaps that a fire has a profoundly painful, permanent way of re-ordering your priorities and outlook.
And not to trust or rely upon the security or pursuit of material possessions ever again.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Blue Light Special
DNR must be rounding up the bad guys, cause I just saw their blue light lights flashing outside the marina channel.
Now it's way past my bed-time, but have a Happy Fourth of July ... and it sounds like a war's happening outside my window.
Ooops. I meant port. And berth-time, too.
Now it's way past my bed-time, but have a Happy Fourth of July ... and it sounds like a war's happening outside my window.
Ooops. I meant port. And berth-time, too.
Perfect Gadgetry
(humor)
Being a guy makes me fond of gadgets. Especially gadgets that can do amazing and seemingly impossible things.
Here's one that's out of this world:
It's the KVH M3 DX high-definition marine satellite TV antenna. The dome measures just 18" across but it's still capable of receiving picture-perfect satellite TV signals as far as 200 miles offshore.
Here's the coolest part: the M3 DX has a sophisticated built-in satellite tracking system of gears and aiming devices, so you can still watch TV while your boat's crossing the Gulf Stream toward Bimini.
That's right, you can watch satellite TV even while your boat's moving. How cool is that?
That kind of technology comes at a steep, steep price ... and I wonder how disappointing it might be to scan through the menu of 500+ program choices and realize that even with a $5000 antenna, there's still nothing worth watching on TV.
Being a guy makes me fond of gadgets. Especially gadgets that can do amazing and seemingly impossible things.
Here's one that's out of this world:
It's the KVH M3 DX high-definition marine satellite TV antenna. The dome measures just 18" across but it's still capable of receiving picture-perfect satellite TV signals as far as 200 miles offshore.
Here's the coolest part: the M3 DX has a sophisticated built-in satellite tracking system of gears and aiming devices, so you can still watch TV while your boat's crossing the Gulf Stream toward Bimini.
That's right, you can watch satellite TV even while your boat's moving. How cool is that?
That kind of technology comes at a steep, steep price ... and I wonder how disappointing it might be to scan through the menu of 500+ program choices and realize that even with a $5000 antenna, there's still nothing worth watching on TV.
"Man On Fire" - 2004
(movie review)
I liked this one a lot. Denzel Washington's terrific as Creasy, the burnt-out bodyguard who's struggling to keep his client alive ... and with his addictions as well. Doesn't hurt either that the screenplay included more than a few blistering quotes:
Elderly Man: In the church, they say to forgive.
Creasy: Forgiveness is between them and God. It's my job to arrange the meeting.
Pita: Dear God, I do not ask for health or wealth. People ask you so often that you can't have any left. Give me, God, what else you have. Give me what no-one else asks for. Amen.
Rayburn: Well, you know what they say. A bullet always tells the truth.
Creasy: Okay, my friend. It's off to the next life for you. I guarantee you, you won't be lonely.
Creasy: There is no such thing as tough. There is trained and untrained. Now which are you?
I liked this one a lot. Denzel Washington's terrific as Creasy, the burnt-out bodyguard who's struggling to keep his client alive ... and with his addictions as well. Doesn't hurt either that the screenplay included more than a few blistering quotes:
Elderly Man: In the church, they say to forgive.
Creasy: Forgiveness is between them and God. It's my job to arrange the meeting.
Pita: Dear God, I do not ask for health or wealth. People ask you so often that you can't have any left. Give me, God, what else you have. Give me what no-one else asks for. Amen.
Rayburn: Well, you know what they say. A bullet always tells the truth.
Creasy: Okay, my friend. It's off to the next life for you. I guarantee you, you won't be lonely.
Creasy: There is no such thing as tough. There is trained and untrained. Now which are you?
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
So Many Angry People
If they are thirsty, give them something to drink,
And they will be ashamed of what they have done to you.’
High Noon in Dodge/DNR City + photo update
End of an Era?
DNR showed up today in full-force with a fleet of patrol and enforcement boats drawn from as far away as Charleston, accompanied by a regiment of State Highway Patrol and local deputies. There was even a BAT wagon parked near the public launch ramp reserved for offenders.
You'll probably learn more about what's going tonight on the FoxCarolina News. But it seems pretty clear that the wild, untamed lake is about to feel its first sting of barbed wire ... and the lawless weekends of rumegades, beer-rustlers, and drunkeradoes riding its waves have come to a sobering halt.
An unnamed marina regular agreed and squinted off into the sunset, "It's been too much for too long, and now there's a new sheriff in town."
-DNR deputies at Ambush Pass: waitin' to Head 'em up & move 'em out.
DNR showed up today in full-force with a fleet of patrol and enforcement boats drawn from as far away as Charleston, accompanied by a regiment of State Highway Patrol and local deputies. There was even a BAT wagon parked near the public launch ramp reserved for offenders.
You'll probably learn more about what's going tonight on the FoxCarolina News. But it seems pretty clear that the wild, untamed lake is about to feel its first sting of barbed wire ... and the lawless weekends of rumegades, beer-rustlers, and drunkeradoes riding its waves have come to a sobering halt.
An unnamed marina regular agreed and squinted off into the sunset, "It's been too much for too long, and now there's a new sheriff in town."
-DNR deputies at Ambush Pass: waitin' to Head 'em up & move 'em out.
Man, you gotta be kidding me
Been taking the past two weeks off from working with Mike (The Asphalt Mariner) to take care of a few odds and ends regarding travel plans.
But otherwise, during an average work day I'd estimate Mike's cell rings about six time an hour, with calls ranging from owners who've locked themselves out of their boats to guys who'd love dropping $30,000 worth of iron hardware on their motor mounts because they heard somebody else talking about the latest-n-greatest new engines just out from the factory.
Sometimes Mike even fields calls from strangers who can't find their way to the lake, and takes time to do his best to help first-timers get their boats out on the water.
See, Mike's a marine technician ... and I'm guessing 80% of boat owners here at the marina have Mike's cell number near the top of their phone's speed dial. Not that they expect to be calling with an emergency any time soon (much less for solid advice about preventative maintenance) ... but it's reassuring to keep Mike's number handy for any unknown, unexpected Just In Case situations in the future.
Boat owners are human after all, and until something breaks there's a tendency to keep on driving a boat until the propellers fall off. That's usually when Mike's phone starts ringing, and folks usually expect him to drive right over and fix their problems Right Now because Nobody's problems are more important to me than mine.
Everybody wants their boat up and running in time for the big Fourth of July celebrations, so here's an entirely hypothetical situation. Let's say Mike's phone rang just a few minutes ago with an urgent call from an overwrought owner ... someone he barely knows, because this person doesn't call very often.
That is, unless he needs something.
This guy's voice is shaking, trembling badly, because he just realized his boat needs new red, white and blue pin stripes. And he wants them Hand-Painted. That's right, not the adhesive easy-to-apply stick-on kind like the factory uses. He wants his stripes hand-painted because nothing impresses like hand-painted stripes impresses.
Wow.
Free-hand paint striping is notoriously difficult and migraine-inducing work but he's already whining that his old stripes are peeling off, and make his boat look tired and filthy.
As though Mike didn't already know his stripes were peeling. Or that the reason the stripes are peeling is because the guy's been too busy eye-balling bikini waxes to think much about washing and waxing his boat.
Oh, and by the way. This guy says he's real busy right now, and it's too much trouble for him to trailer his boat out of the water. So he wants the new stripes painted on while the boat's still tied up in its slip. That's right, while it's bobbing around on a moving dock like a cork dropped into a washing machine.
Oops, there's just one more thing ... he wants those stripes finished and ready to go in time for the 4th, which is the day after tomorrow. Mike I know you're real busy, but I'm begging you.
This guy sheepishly admits he's "got company coming" and wants his boat "looking good."
Ah ... so he want to impress the newest girlfriend ... which also explains why he's already called Mike six times so far this morning. Look I know it's a lot to ask, but can you help me out just one more time?
Let's overlook for a minute that July 4th rolls around on pretty much the same day every year. And forget that the guy's known for the past eight months that his old stripes are fading.
Also please forget that the same guy called Mike three weeks ago because trash had somehow found its way into his head (toilet), clogged his pump, and his boat smelled like a sewer that's been flooded since the Middle Ages.
And finally let's not mention that besides a clogged toilet his boat is otherwise in great condition, absolutely seaworthy and entirely fit for service ... and that most folks at the marina would give their right rudder to have it.
Of course the guy had no way of knowing at the time whether Mike was already booked solid for the next 8 weeks, but surely he knew that Mike wasn't responsible for clogging his head with trash.
Instead, he just assumed that no other boat owner's problems were as important as his (or smelled quite so bad).
Maybe he was so insistent because he believed he'd actually done something for Mike in the past (besides burn up his air time moaning about his boat's problems), and so now Mike owed him one ... something really huge ... and Mike wouldn't mind driving across the county late on a Saturday night to spend four hours in a bilge filled with stink to unclog his toilet.
Nope, the only thing that mattered three weeks ago was that he had "company coming" (meaning a girlfriend) and wanted his boat to impress her ... which would be quite difficult, considering the splendid odors wafting from a commode that had been choking since Valentine's Day (when his previous girlfriend dropped by for a visit).
Funny, he didn't mention anything back then about needing new hand-painted stripes ... the idea hadn't even occurred to him: this guy's problem is that a week ago his neighbor got a newer, bigger, faster boat ... and now new hand-painted stripes seem like his way out.
Just one more thing to add about this guy: it's interesting how eagerly he shares details about his vast wealth and material fortunes, but once the work's been done and he's back out riding around the lake, this customer also just happens to be a bit forgetful about paying his bill on time.
Even though he's never forgetful about remembering Mike's number ... because a Just In Case might happen at any time, and usually when he leasts expects it.
So go figure.
---
Like I said, this is all just hypothetical and this customer doesn't actually exist, I promise.
But imagine you're Mike listening on his end of the phone, hearing this customer spill out the desperate, urgent reasons why he can't live without new hand-painted stripes in time for the Fourth. The guy has a hard time admitting he's jealous of his neighbor's bigger, faster, newer boat. Or that there's a new blond babe in a bikini he can't wait to impress.
Keep imagining that you're Mike, and that you've already taken a dozen calls from other boat owners facing real crises ... like structural damage caused by last week's storm, or an engine that's dangerously overheating, or a bilge pump that needs immediate replacement to keep a boat from sinking.
Where do you think Hand-paint new stripes is gonna go on your list of today's To Do's?
This customer and his situation is made-up, but in real life Mike always says exactly what he's thinking. So I can shimmy out on a limb and guess it's awfully close to what God might be thinking when he hears some of the urgent, desperate things ... not so different from new pin stripes ... we're used to asking for in prayer.
But otherwise, during an average work day I'd estimate Mike's cell rings about six time an hour, with calls ranging from owners who've locked themselves out of their boats to guys who'd love dropping $30,000 worth of iron hardware on their motor mounts because they heard somebody else talking about the latest-n-greatest new engines just out from the factory.
Sometimes Mike even fields calls from strangers who can't find their way to the lake, and takes time to do his best to help first-timers get their boats out on the water.
See, Mike's a marine technician ... and I'm guessing 80% of boat owners here at the marina have Mike's cell number near the top of their phone's speed dial. Not that they expect to be calling with an emergency any time soon (much less for solid advice about preventative maintenance) ... but it's reassuring to keep Mike's number handy for any unknown, unexpected Just In Case situations in the future.
Boat owners are human after all, and until something breaks there's a tendency to keep on driving a boat until the propellers fall off. That's usually when Mike's phone starts ringing, and folks usually expect him to drive right over and fix their problems Right Now because Nobody's problems are more important to me than mine.
Everybody wants their boat up and running in time for the big Fourth of July celebrations, so here's an entirely hypothetical situation. Let's say Mike's phone rang just a few minutes ago with an urgent call from an overwrought owner ... someone he barely knows, because this person doesn't call very often.
That is, unless he needs something.
This guy's voice is shaking, trembling badly, because he just realized his boat needs new red, white and blue pin stripes. And he wants them Hand-Painted. That's right, not the adhesive easy-to-apply stick-on kind like the factory uses. He wants his stripes hand-painted because nothing impresses like hand-painted stripes impresses.
Wow.
Free-hand paint striping is notoriously difficult and migraine-inducing work but he's already whining that his old stripes are peeling off, and make his boat look tired and filthy.
As though Mike didn't already know his stripes were peeling. Or that the reason the stripes are peeling is because the guy's been too busy eye-balling bikini waxes to think much about washing and waxing his boat.
Oh, and by the way. This guy says he's real busy right now, and it's too much trouble for him to trailer his boat out of the water. So he wants the new stripes painted on while the boat's still tied up in its slip. That's right, while it's bobbing around on a moving dock like a cork dropped into a washing machine.
Oops, there's just one more thing ... he wants those stripes finished and ready to go in time for the 4th, which is the day after tomorrow. Mike I know you're real busy, but I'm begging you.
This guy sheepishly admits he's "got company coming" and wants his boat "looking good."
Ah ... so he want to impress the newest girlfriend ... which also explains why he's already called Mike six times so far this morning. Look I know it's a lot to ask, but can you help me out just one more time?
Let's overlook for a minute that July 4th rolls around on pretty much the same day every year. And forget that the guy's known for the past eight months that his old stripes are fading.
Also please forget that the same guy called Mike three weeks ago because trash had somehow found its way into his head (toilet), clogged his pump, and his boat smelled like a sewer that's been flooded since the Middle Ages.
And finally let's not mention that besides a clogged toilet his boat is otherwise in great condition, absolutely seaworthy and entirely fit for service ... and that most folks at the marina would give their right rudder to have it.
Of course the guy had no way of knowing at the time whether Mike was already booked solid for the next 8 weeks, but surely he knew that Mike wasn't responsible for clogging his head with trash.
Instead, he just assumed that no other boat owner's problems were as important as his (or smelled quite so bad).
Maybe he was so insistent because he believed he'd actually done something for Mike in the past (besides burn up his air time moaning about his boat's problems), and so now Mike owed him one ... something really huge ... and Mike wouldn't mind driving across the county late on a Saturday night to spend four hours in a bilge filled with stink to unclog his toilet.
Nope, the only thing that mattered three weeks ago was that he had "company coming" (meaning a girlfriend) and wanted his boat to impress her ... which would be quite difficult, considering the splendid odors wafting from a commode that had been choking since Valentine's Day (when his previous girlfriend dropped by for a visit).
Funny, he didn't mention anything back then about needing new hand-painted stripes ... the idea hadn't even occurred to him: this guy's problem is that a week ago his neighbor got a newer, bigger, faster boat ... and now new hand-painted stripes seem like his way out.
Just one more thing to add about this guy: it's interesting how eagerly he shares details about his vast wealth and material fortunes, but once the work's been done and he's back out riding around the lake, this customer also just happens to be a bit forgetful about paying his bill on time.
Even though he's never forgetful about remembering Mike's number ... because a Just In Case might happen at any time, and usually when he leasts expects it.
So go figure.
---
Like I said, this is all just hypothetical and this customer doesn't actually exist, I promise.
But imagine you're Mike listening on his end of the phone, hearing this customer spill out the desperate, urgent reasons why he can't live without new hand-painted stripes in time for the Fourth. The guy has a hard time admitting he's jealous of his neighbor's bigger, faster, newer boat. Or that there's a new blond babe in a bikini he can't wait to impress.
Keep imagining that you're Mike, and that you've already taken a dozen calls from other boat owners facing real crises ... like structural damage caused by last week's storm, or an engine that's dangerously overheating, or a bilge pump that needs immediate replacement to keep a boat from sinking.
Where do you think Hand-paint new stripes is gonna go on your list of today's To Do's?
This customer and his situation is made-up, but in real life Mike always says exactly what he's thinking. So I can shimmy out on a limb and guess it's awfully close to what God might be thinking when he hears some of the urgent, desperate things ... not so different from new pin stripes ... we're used to asking for in prayer.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Haulin' Metal
What'd you pray for this morning?
Something important, maybe ... like help financing a new big screen TV? Maybe it's a promotion or a special favor from the boss at work?
Or was it something really important ... like a reward, and asking for an overnight delivery at your doorstep to help sort out your dating life?
Where's Asking God to put you in the place where you could impact the most people for Christ on this morning's list?
---
I only know what I read, and you can read what I read here, posted on 2 July.
Norm's been following Christ and is a key volunteer at his church. But before he received Christ, Norm committed some crimes ... and now he's facing five years in prison.
Just before his sentencing, Norm's pastor asked what he needed praying for.
Norm didn't ask for prayers not to be sentenced to prison. Nor did he ask for better grades, a pay raise, a job promotion, a new house or car nor for God to upgrade his dating life.
Norm asked instead that "God place him where he could tell the most people about Christ. If that was prison, so be it."
Ok, that's some weight right there.
Because Norm's haulin' metal ... big time.
Something important, maybe ... like help financing a new big screen TV? Maybe it's a promotion or a special favor from the boss at work?
Or was it something really important ... like a reward, and asking for an overnight delivery at your doorstep to help sort out your dating life?
Where's Asking God to put you in the place where you could impact the most people for Christ on this morning's list?
---
I only know what I read, and you can read what I read here, posted on 2 July.
Norm's been following Christ and is a key volunteer at his church. But before he received Christ, Norm committed some crimes ... and now he's facing five years in prison.
Just before his sentencing, Norm's pastor asked what he needed praying for.
Norm didn't ask for prayers not to be sentenced to prison. Nor did he ask for better grades, a pay raise, a job promotion, a new house or car nor for God to upgrade his dating life.
Norm asked instead that "God place him where he could tell the most people about Christ. If that was prison, so be it."
Ok, that's some weight right there.
Because Norm's haulin' metal ... big time.
Sure seemed like fun at the time
"Irrelevant Personal Experiences: this post is worth skipping" Department
A 4th of July fireworks display was scheduled near the Hartwell Dam on Saturday night, which inspired me to give mental birth to the spectacularly stupid idea of driving Calypso over to Horseshoe Island and anchoring out for the night, to avoid the inevitable dockside craziness sure to accompany the party fleet's return to the marina (surely a few would still be sober enough to find it).
Trouble was, I had no idea what time the fireworks actually started or ended.
Once I'd left the marina and was merrily underway, what I cruised into instead was the Drunkenly Blind Armada (a moniker I made up myself to include every houseboat, Go-Fast boat, over-powered bass boat and mid-life crisis cruiser aimed at high speed in my direction, intent upon running me aground or otherwise scaring me silly with their ineptness) on their way back from the show.
Yikes.
I tried counting all the red and green lights whizzing around me but gave up soon as I started. Yes there were that many ... at least 50 boats heading in 360 different directions all at the same time, at speeds varying from I think my engine's broke all the way to I'm outta beer and the nearest store closes at 11.
Yea it was stressful.
At one point I literally had to drive into four feet of water on the inside of an orange Danger: Shallow Water buoy to avoid a possible collision with a sport cruiser whose driver seemed determined to blind me with his search light so I couldn't ID his hull number and lodge a complaint.
Or maybe he thought I was one of the UFOs you hear about people spotting on the lake after dark. After the beer's all gone.
In the background the VHF radio slowly filled with a breathless exchange between a man and a woman that became so luridly salty (that's a nautical term) and explicit in detail [I woulda switched off the radio, except that by law boaters are required to monitor Channel 16 while underway] that DNR actually came on the air and made firm, "All stations, be advised this channel is reserved for emergencies."
So that ended that: DNR's not known for fooling around or giggling a whole lot at sexual innuendos on busy 4 th of July boating weekends.
The inlet at Horseshoe was empty when I arrived so I weighed anchor, tuned in to Sss's grumblings on the FM for a few minutes before nodding off, and enjoyed three hours of fitful, miserable near-sleep in the sauna of Calypso's 90+ degree heat (gotta see about getting that generator fixed one day) before driving back the next morning in time (barely) for the 11:15.
Anyway the point is, now that the stress of being surrounded and menaced by simpletons steering small ships is behind me, seeing the green, red and white lights whizzing past was pretty cool ... a lot like riding a golf cart through a tunnel filled with technicolor fireflies might be like.
But neither Saturday night nor even a Star Wars jump to hyperspace could match the time my old friend Don & I were on motorcycles roaring down from the mountains, east-bound on I-70 heading into Denver at night ... just in time to catch a late-season snowfall.
Piloting a motorcycle through falling snow at interstate speeds at night sure sounds like utterly reckless nuttiness right now ... but it sure looked cool at the time.
A 4th of July fireworks display was scheduled near the Hartwell Dam on Saturday night, which inspired me to give mental birth to the spectacularly stupid idea of driving Calypso over to Horseshoe Island and anchoring out for the night, to avoid the inevitable dockside craziness sure to accompany the party fleet's return to the marina (surely a few would still be sober enough to find it).
Trouble was, I had no idea what time the fireworks actually started or ended.
Once I'd left the marina and was merrily underway, what I cruised into instead was the Drunkenly Blind Armada (a moniker I made up myself to include every houseboat, Go-Fast boat, over-powered bass boat and mid-life crisis cruiser aimed at high speed in my direction, intent upon running me aground or otherwise scaring me silly with their ineptness) on their way back from the show.
Yikes.
I tried counting all the red and green lights whizzing around me but gave up soon as I started. Yes there were that many ... at least 50 boats heading in 360 different directions all at the same time, at speeds varying from I think my engine's broke all the way to I'm outta beer and the nearest store closes at 11.
Yea it was stressful.
At one point I literally had to drive into four feet of water on the inside of an orange Danger: Shallow Water buoy to avoid a possible collision with a sport cruiser whose driver seemed determined to blind me with his search light so I couldn't ID his hull number and lodge a complaint.
Or maybe he thought I was one of the UFOs you hear about people spotting on the lake after dark. After the beer's all gone.
In the background the VHF radio slowly filled with a breathless exchange between a man and a woman that became so luridly salty (that's a nautical term) and explicit in detail [I woulda switched off the radio, except that by law boaters are required to monitor Channel 16 while underway] that DNR actually came on the air and made firm, "All stations, be advised this channel is reserved for emergencies."
So that ended that: DNR's not known for fooling around or giggling a whole lot at sexual innuendos on busy 4 th of July boating weekends.
The inlet at Horseshoe was empty when I arrived so I weighed anchor, tuned in to Sss's grumblings on the FM for a few minutes before nodding off, and enjoyed three hours of fitful, miserable near-sleep in the sauna of Calypso's 90+ degree heat (gotta see about getting that generator fixed one day) before driving back the next morning in time (barely) for the 11:15.
Anyway the point is, now that the stress of being surrounded and menaced by simpletons steering small ships is behind me, seeing the green, red and white lights whizzing past was pretty cool ... a lot like riding a golf cart through a tunnel filled with technicolor fireflies might be like.
But neither Saturday night nor even a Star Wars jump to hyperspace could match the time my old friend Don & I were on motorcycles roaring down from the mountains, east-bound on I-70 heading into Denver at night ... just in time to catch a late-season snowfall.
Piloting a motorcycle through falling snow at interstate speeds at night sure sounds like utterly reckless nuttiness right now ... but it sure looked cool at the time.
In case you tried calling
My phone's dead b/c the charger's broke.
And it only took two days to figure this one out so see, I'm actually getting better.
And it only took two days to figure this one out so see, I'm actually getting better.
Dismal Performance?
I gotta admit I started off in a bit of a funk yesterday morning at the 11:15.
Arriving in the nick of time at 11:10 AM, soon as I stepped into the atrium I heard a woman's voice call my name. I looked up and down, to the left and all around, but never recognized a face or saw who it was.
Besides, I was hurrying because I was supposed to meet a guy (a NS member and volunteer; he's also got an awesome tattoo in Hebrew I might wanna copy for myself) for the service but he must've given up ... because he wasn't in the place where we'd agreed to meet. My baaaad.
So as the counter counted down and I settled into an empty seat all by my lonesome, as usual, and folks I didn't recognize arrived to sit on either side, I realized that my closest friends (and the ones I'm used to sitting with) all share something in common: ORP (who used Twelve Stages of Insistence to finally convince me to Just Go One Time), Fran, Valerie and Sss were all going to NS a long time before I was.
I should feel comfortable and be used to sitting beside folks I don't know or recognize after all this time, but not yet I'm not.
Hmmm.
I also realized that of all the folks I've invited to visit in the past 3 years only three have actually showed: TPW, her son Karl, and Kathey. Just three in three years.
My personal success (or failure?) record, considering the thousands of people who were there, seemed abysmal and disappointing because every Sunday there's more and people showing up with new faces. I glanced behind me and thought Well, maybe somewhere in those 2500 seats are some of the people I've invited, and I just don't know they're there.
But then it doesn't really matter very much whether people accept my invitation, or if my Personal Record of Invitations Accepted seems abysmal and discouraging.
What's important is that somebody's invitations are being accepted ... in HUGE NUMBERS from all over the Upstate ... and somewhere in those seats are people who're there not because of me or my invitation ... but because they needed to hear about accepting Christ's invitation instead.
So from where I'm sitting, whether with friends, acquaintances on staff or beside total strangers, in the balcony or in a folding seat in the atrium, what matters is knowing that God's there and about to rock somebody's world ... and not whether I know the name of whoever's there beside me.
---
I've got the attention span of a fly turned loose near the dessert table at an outdoor bar-b-q and if you're like me, grew up bored witless in church, thought worship music was borrowed from funeral parlors, hated dressing up to "look holy" and "fit in" or thought that preaching taught straight from The Bible was irrelevant, dusty and outdated, don't give up yet because there is something more... Just Go One Time.
Arriving in the nick of time at 11:10 AM, soon as I stepped into the atrium I heard a woman's voice call my name. I looked up and down, to the left and all around, but never recognized a face or saw who it was.
Besides, I was hurrying because I was supposed to meet a guy (a NS member and volunteer; he's also got an awesome tattoo in Hebrew I might wanna copy for myself) for the service but he must've given up ... because he wasn't in the place where we'd agreed to meet. My baaaad.
So as the counter counted down and I settled into an empty seat all by my lonesome, as usual, and folks I didn't recognize arrived to sit on either side, I realized that my closest friends (and the ones I'm used to sitting with) all share something in common: ORP (who used Twelve Stages of Insistence to finally convince me to Just Go One Time), Fran, Valerie and Sss were all going to NS a long time before I was.
I should feel comfortable and be used to sitting beside folks I don't know or recognize after all this time, but not yet I'm not.
Hmmm.
I also realized that of all the folks I've invited to visit in the past 3 years only three have actually showed: TPW, her son Karl, and Kathey. Just three in three years.
My personal success (or failure?) record, considering the thousands of people who were there, seemed abysmal and disappointing because every Sunday there's more and people showing up with new faces. I glanced behind me and thought Well, maybe somewhere in those 2500 seats are some of the people I've invited, and I just don't know they're there.
But then it doesn't really matter very much whether people accept my invitation, or if my Personal Record of Invitations Accepted seems abysmal and discouraging.
What's important is that somebody's invitations are being accepted ... in HUGE NUMBERS from all over the Upstate ... and somewhere in those seats are people who're there not because of me or my invitation ... but because they needed to hear about accepting Christ's invitation instead.
So from where I'm sitting, whether with friends, acquaintances on staff or beside total strangers, in the balcony or in a folding seat in the atrium, what matters is knowing that God's there and about to rock somebody's world ... and not whether I know the name of whoever's there beside me.
---
I've got the attention span of a fly turned loose near the dessert table at an outdoor bar-b-q and if you're like me, grew up bored witless in church, thought worship music was borrowed from funeral parlors, hated dressing up to "look holy" and "fit in" or thought that preaching taught straight from The Bible was irrelevant, dusty and outdated, don't give up yet because there is something more... Just Go One Time.
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