




Reflections of a Journeying Blogger
So we had a discussion tonight at our church that I won't get into here. I thought it was well done and the panel did an excellent job. I respect each of the women on that panel tremendously and think they all love God and are biblically grounded. I also believe there is room for disagreement on issues in the body of Christ.
"Science can be a joyless monster sometimes, even though it has its moments. I know [my non-Christian friend] believes in his book learnin' every bit as much as I believe in my God, but textbooks don't romance your soul. You're right ... it is hard to fathom why some people don't want to believe that there is a God that aches to be loved and to love."
So all of my readers ought to break out their calendars. Go ahead, I'll wait.
What will you do?
Yea, there is just so much to be said about this.
As I type this I'm sitting in the family waiting room at Lee County Hospital in Florida. I really should be working on my message but I just need a break.
I learned what it means to "be a man" from my dad. I hope that doesn't sound too machismo, actually the reverse is true. My dad taught me that loyalty, generosity, love, respect... those are the things that make a man. I have always respected the way that my dad treated my mom. We would go to festivals and people who didn't know them would always think they were newlyweds. As my dad has been in incredible pain the past several years, his disposition has changed a bit. Honestly, he has gotten more grumpy. But today I saw that spark of my old dad back again.
A couple of weeks ago, my daughter got really sick. Either a cold or allergies, but she couldn't breathe. So my wife decided to put a "Vicks" children's patch on her as she slept. It really helped and she slept well. The problem is that now, for some reason, she is terrified of them. And she won't even let us take her shirt off.
Congratulations to Mdog on winning my first, "Name-the-Big-Jesus-Statue" contest. [Insert cheering and applause] We were all drawn to her initial entry, but her rough photoshop model put her over the top (remember that for future contests -- I'm a very visual person).
Benny Hinn Ministries is letting go about 60 call-center employees at its Grapevine headquarters. The work of taking calls for prayer requests and book and tape orders will soon be outsourced.
This is the front of their building and yep, that is Jesus comin' up out of the water.
My phone (which serves as my alarm) didn't catch the time change. Of course, once I turned it off and then back on...THEN it figured it out, but by then I was still an hour later than I wanted. Maybe it's time for an alarm clock?
Well... it's over. James Cameron (director of Titanic and self proclaimed, "King of the World") has debunked the "myth" of Jesus raising from the dead.
My daughter is growing up... and it is just amazing to watch. She was around 6 months old when I took this picture. That is her sleeping... as caught by her baby monitor. (My wife and I have decided we are going to keep this camera well into her teen years.) We call this, "Lydia TV!" ("All Lydia, all the time.")
Eventually, I had to pull back. In two years, she has grown so much that now, in order to see her, we moved the camera back so that, basically, her entire crib is in the shot. Where she once had so much room in her crib it was laughable, she now often has limbs sticking out one side with other limbs sticking out the other. As she grows, continual adjustments had to be made.
I'm glad I'm using Safari and Firefox.
Due to the comments of certain members of the blogging community, I am officially on a blog strike.
I was privileged to be a member of the Bluecoats, a drum and bugle corps based out of Canton. I (along with pjeff) played lead soprano (trumpet) and got to play high, loud and fast. It was a trip. At one point in the show, 6 of us went out front and got to play high loud and fast together. (In this picture, pjeff is the one on the right of the line of 6 down front, I'm the guy right next to him to his left.) There was the official "written version" of the sextet, (which was pretty high and loud) and there was the version we made up... which was much higher and louder. Sometimes after the shows, a group of "fans" would come to the busses as we were putting our stuff away and we would play the "higher, louder, faster" version... which to them was the coolest thing. About 3 minutes of 15 minutes of fame.
Pjeff was one of my heros. He had an amazing solo (that I got to play once when he was sick) that was... well, high and loud. (You see a theme here, don't you?) At the time, I didn't know all he was struggling through, but he later became a Christian and then a pastor. (So that makes at least two of us! I'm not sure anyone in that line would have ever thought either of us would have been pastors... those were VERY different days for both of us.)
Mondays are hard for many pastors. It's funny, it's not talked about a lot, but there is an emotional brokenness/drain that happens for most pastors after they teach. I have a friend who is leaving ministry this year because of the "Monday Crash." He just can't handle it anymore and he fears it will cost him his marriage... or his soul.
"This is an email I wrote tonight at 7 pm and sent to Andrew Peterson.
So I've been listening to Andrew Peterson... of course given to me by this same friend...and it is really good. He reminds me of Rich Mullens (who is a hero of mine) not just in sound, but also style. There is a bit of cynic, poet, prophet, and "guy next door I want to hang out with" mixed together. I first got hooked by the words to the opening song off this album, "Land of the Free." It reminds me of Honduras.
"300 ways to eat toast.
"Left Behind" the game!
Father, I pray for this country. There is so much poverty here. There is so much oppression and pain. But where I want to pray for this country, it makes me want to pray for the U.S. even more. In the U.S. we have a poverty of spirit... we are often the oppressors... we are numb to life and try not to feel pain. It takes so much to satisfy...
As I write this I'm sitting in the chapel. The doors are open and it overlooks a small town called, "Nueva Esparanza" (New Hope) which is the town just down the hill from Montana De Luz. Nueva Esparanza was built after the hurricane and it is (I guess) supposed to be a sign of what the government can do if it "really puts its mind to something."
If you couldn't see some of the detail, or if we didn't have to drive through the town to get to Montana, you might mistake it as quaint... all nestled in the mountains. But even from here you can see the small houses... houses that probably anywhere in the U.S. would be considered slum. You can see the roads (and I use that term loosely). Every now and then you see people walking or gathering. The town is filled with real people, with real hopes and real dreams and real struggles.
But I sit up here separate.
Contrast this with Vicki, the project director. She can't walk through Montana without having kids hanging off of her. She drives her truck through town; she can't go 100 feet without getting ambushed by people yelling, "Buenos Dais, Vicki!" or her stopping to say "hi." She knows most people's names and even their families. She speaks Spanish fluently. She is a part of their lives. She has entered into their world.