The Old Testament Saul always troubles me.
He is not to be confused with the Saul in the New Testament(that's the one that later became known as Paul); the Saul in the Old Testament was also the first King of Israel.
He started out very humble but soon acquired God's disfavor.
The thing that troubles me is that I do not want to be like him and sometimes I think I am.
Did you ever notice how people are always talking about the Disciple of Jesus known as Simon Peter? It seems acceptable for one to compare himself with Peter and talk about how much they are like him.
Peter was very human and he did do goofy - much like most of us do. But we think that it ended well with Peter . . . at least as far as his relationship with God.
Things did not end well for Saul.
In 1st Samuel we find Saul in a situation that looks vaguely familiar to me - especially in those times when I feel "boxed in" by my circumstances.
He was into the second year of his reign, perhaps he was beginning to feel that he was established as king so he allowed his troops to go home except for 3,000 men.
He took 2/3 of them and gave the other thousand to his son, Jonathan, and they went to different locations.
About that time, Jonathan and his team must have gotten overzealous . . . they apparently attacked a garrison belonging to the Philistines, arch-enemies to the Israelites. This made those Phillies mad and they gathered their troops for war. They had quite a war machine... ten times as many chariots as Saul had troops, not to mention another 6,000 horsemen and an army of foot soldiers that seemed innumerable.
Folks were scared.
The fear became contagious and Saul's "revolutionary guard" began peeling off and heading home. . . or across the border (it's true - read it for yourself!)
In an earlier chapter, we learned that Samuel (still the nation's spiritual leader) ran a "circuit" throughout the major cities of Israel.
It so happened that Samuel was due to land in Gilgal in one week so Saul went there with his dwindling army. He wanted Samuel to offer a sacrifice and bring God's blessings on his troops.
They waited a full week.
Samuel did not come.
Patience does not abound when you pile up a bunch of fearful folks.
Somebody had to do something!
Saul did something. Today, he may have been applauded for trying.
Saul offered the burnt sacrifice - it wasn't his place to do that. He went outside of his God-appointed role.
It seems that immediately Samuel arrived ...
. . . and he was ticked.
"What have you done?!" Samuel demanded.
Saul's answer reveals that he was "boxed in":
"It was because you didn't come when you were supposed to; my army has scattered; and those Philistines are gathering for war!"
Do you hear what he was saying?
He was in trouble, the pressure was mounting and God didn't show up.
On top of that, his support was all leaving him.
Finally, his enemies were getting ready to move in for the kill.
Saul was infected by all the fear and literal trembling going on around him and he was just sure the Philistines were about to rain down on him. He said he felt compelled to go ahead with the sacrifice.
It was a foolish decision. It appears that it was about the only chance Saul had to prove himself. That day God announced to Saul that He was scouting for a new king... one after His own Heart.
When you're boxed in and the pressure is mounting, doing something - anything may not be the correct answer.
Saul could have waited . . . just a few more moments.
He could have reminded himself that Sovereign God was in control, He would take care of things.
His Faith and subsequent Courage might have infected the few remaining troops.
Instead he listened to what fear was saying. He found evidence to point to the fact that certain doom lay ahead. . .
. . . and to think, he was only a few minutes away from a completely different destiny.
"Be still and know
that I am God . . . " Psalm 46:10 a NKJV
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Vacation Wrap Up
It was great fun, I hope you enjoy the montage.
Some highlights:
Some highlights:
- We took turns setting the theme for each day on the menu-chalkboard in the hallway of our condo
- The trip included much sun, sand and water... that was about it.
- We went on a crab hunt ... and though we were successful, we didn't pick any of them up [yeech]
- Ab was reading Beverly Lewis and expressed an interest in becoming Amish. . . . You will notice the influence in her Amish welcome to Grandmother and Papa.
- R. wiped out one morning - oh not riding the waves - but crawling out of bed {may be an upcoming Olympic Sport}.
- We rode bicycles a little. Papa rode a bicycle - maybe for the first time in 65 years! (he still knew how)
- The trip included one moonlight swim.
- Our equipment upgrades consisted of large "body boards" and then eventually a "boogey board" ... I finally managed to stay on that instrument of cruelty for all of 3 seconds.
- AA pulled a tooth (not pictured)
- We finished out the week with some potential "Christmas Card" photos while trespassing on what was possibly federally protected sand dunes... (sorry Mr. President)
Enjoy!
Coming Home
Well we are back.
Our kids are pretty amazing (at least comparing them with myself) as soon as we were in the car heading home, they began to talk about how they couldn't wait to get home!
I think R. and I were plotting to find some way to stay without wreaking havoc on our world.
Anyway we came back.
This morning I have donned long pants and something other than open-toed shoes for the first time in over a week.
Our "unwind" day was yesterday but things got a little tense after I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to download pictures and then get the Photo-bucket slide presentation to cooperate. It's fairly user friendly unless you want to move pictures around in the presentation; for some reason every time I tried to drag my picture to the correct row, the entire row would move and I would land in the wrong place.
I don't want to talk about it.
Hopefully I will have pictures up soon. In the meantime, R. has her neat presentation all ready and posted on her blog.
Here is some beach humor:
What is the favorite dish of most beach - combers?
a sandwich.
Knock-knock
Who's there?
You Octopus!
"You Octopus" who?
You octopus open this door and let me in!
What does Barbie use to help her swim?
Dolphins (doll-fins)
Okay I'll stop.
Our kids are pretty amazing (at least comparing them with myself) as soon as we were in the car heading home, they began to talk about how they couldn't wait to get home!
I think R. and I were plotting to find some way to stay without wreaking havoc on our world.
Anyway we came back.
This morning I have donned long pants and something other than open-toed shoes for the first time in over a week.
Our "unwind" day was yesterday but things got a little tense after I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to download pictures and then get the Photo-bucket slide presentation to cooperate. It's fairly user friendly unless you want to move pictures around in the presentation; for some reason every time I tried to drag my picture to the correct row, the entire row would move and I would land in the wrong place.
I don't want to talk about it.
Hopefully I will have pictures up soon. In the meantime, R. has her neat presentation all ready and posted on her blog.
Here is some beach humor:
What is the favorite dish of most beach - combers?
a sandwich.
Knock-knock
Who's there?
You Octopus!
"You Octopus" who?
You octopus open this door and let me in!
What does Barbie use to help her swim?
Dolphins (doll-fins)
Okay I'll stop.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Three Things You Won't See in Heaven
You know time spent walking on the beach can be thought-inspiring. I am not sure if that inspiration always results in my writing something worth reading; but thoughts do seem to get crowded out more slowly in this setting.
I took a stroll this morning before the rest of the family awakened; my "sunrise" walks lasted exactly one day but I have taken several early morning walks in solitude.
Today, I was praying a little as I meandered along the surf. For some reason I remembered a verse from the Revelation (that's in the Bible) that said that in the "New Heaven and New Earth" there was "no more sea".
What about people who love the sea? Does this remove their incentive to go to heaven?
And what about that old convention song about sitting "by the crystal sea"?
The older I get and the more I learn - I seem to find that there are quite a few things that God just doesn't explain completely and the fact is - He doesn't have to. There are times that my best course of action with God is to just reply: "yes Sir".
When I came back to the condo I thought I would do a little quick research. So I looked up the verse in Revelation 21, I found that there are some other things that won't be around in heaven:
There is no temple there. Wow, where I live we have churches everywhere - churches in homes, in retail buildings, in schools, in theaters, in bars and even churches in churches (we have a lot of those too). But all those buildings are just gathering places meant to equip folks. They are evidence of our constant effort to try and get something like God's perfect design accomplished here on earth.
Oddly enough, in heaven - where His "kingdom (is) come, His will (is) done" - there are no churches. I suppose we won't need them there since He is dwelling with us and we won't have to go anywhere to meet with Him.
Secondly, there is no sun there (well, at least there is no need for the sun). Again, there is no need for light - the Light of the world will walk around with us.
"I can see clearly now the rain is gone..."
Now, if you read the 21st chapter and the one that follows you will see that there are a great deal of other things mentioned that will not be there; but do you really want me to add more to this post?!
This vacation, I am really enjoying two of those items that will be missing in heaven - the sun and the sea - so why would He deprive me of them in heaven?
I think it is because He has something better.
Isn't that usually the case when God seems to be depriving us of something?
I did notice something that made me think of a father's role with his family. And how our desires sometimes reflect the desires of the Heavenly Father.
Verse three says that "God's home is with His people!" (GNB) and He dwells with them and they will be His people. . .
When Dad's relish the thought of spending time just being with their family - that's when they are acting like God.
In fact, I think that the Bible and all of History can be simplified down to this: God created people because He likes family... people turned away from God ... then God spent the rest of human history fulfilling His plan to get them back.
That's what Revelation 21:3 is about... God reconciled with His family... again to enjoy those walks in the cool of the day we read about in Genesis.
Okay, this vacation has also revealed to me some other things I think will not be included in the heavenly package:
afternoon television
anti-depressant prescription drug commercials
Nintendo- DS
jellyfish
sand in one's swim trunks
I took a stroll this morning before the rest of the family awakened; my "sunrise" walks lasted exactly one day but I have taken several early morning walks in solitude.
Today, I was praying a little as I meandered along the surf. For some reason I remembered a verse from the Revelation (that's in the Bible) that said that in the "New Heaven and New Earth" there was "no more sea".
What about people who love the sea? Does this remove their incentive to go to heaven?
And what about that old convention song about sitting "by the crystal sea"?
The older I get and the more I learn - I seem to find that there are quite a few things that God just doesn't explain completely and the fact is - He doesn't have to. There are times that my best course of action with God is to just reply: "yes Sir".
When I came back to the condo I thought I would do a little quick research. So I looked up the verse in Revelation 21, I found that there are some other things that won't be around in heaven:
There is no temple there. Wow, where I live we have churches everywhere - churches in homes, in retail buildings, in schools, in theaters, in bars and even churches in churches (we have a lot of those too). But all those buildings are just gathering places meant to equip folks. They are evidence of our constant effort to try and get something like God's perfect design accomplished here on earth.
Oddly enough, in heaven - where His "kingdom (is) come, His will (is) done" - there are no churches. I suppose we won't need them there since He is dwelling with us and we won't have to go anywhere to meet with Him.
Secondly, there is no sun there (well, at least there is no need for the sun). Again, there is no need for light - the Light of the world will walk around with us.
"I can see clearly now the rain is gone..."
Now, if you read the 21st chapter and the one that follows you will see that there are a great deal of other things mentioned that will not be there; but do you really want me to add more to this post?!
This vacation, I am really enjoying two of those items that will be missing in heaven - the sun and the sea - so why would He deprive me of them in heaven?
I think it is because He has something better.
Isn't that usually the case when God seems to be depriving us of something?
I did notice something that made me think of a father's role with his family. And how our desires sometimes reflect the desires of the Heavenly Father.
Verse three says that "God's home is with His people!" (GNB) and He dwells with them and they will be His people. . .
When Dad's relish the thought of spending time just being with their family - that's when they are acting like God.
In fact, I think that the Bible and all of History can be simplified down to this: God created people because He likes family... people turned away from God ... then God spent the rest of human history fulfilling His plan to get them back.
That's what Revelation 21:3 is about... God reconciled with His family... again to enjoy those walks in the cool of the day we read about in Genesis.
Okay, this vacation has also revealed to me some other things I think will not be included in the heavenly package:
afternoon television
anti-depressant prescription drug commercials
Nintendo- DS
jellyfish
sand in one's swim trunks
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Lull
Today I succumbed to urge to roll over and go back to sleep after waking around 5:30 this morning.
It is lunch time and we have yet to breach the beach today.
Actually, it is very hot and while I know there is a cool breeze and refreshing water at the shore... I also know that in order to get there I have to comply with all those safety regulations regarding proper protection from those nasty UV rays. Once I am saturated with all that sticky sunscreen (which results in my having to walk with limbs akimbo), then I have to figure out how best to proportion all the beach paraphernalia under each arm in order to transport it to the beach.
It's easier when you are a kid - you just take off. Well, actually kids can't do that anymore, they too have to be appropriately smeared with a liberal portion of 30-weight sunscreen ... even as I post, my son is bewailing that process.
So vacation has hit it's little lull stage. That's what happens when you take vacations the way we do and don't really plan any activities.
So let me record some items about this vacation so far:
While on the beach, one might hear the call of distant seagulls, here at our condo (a short walk from the beach), we are constantly regaled with the call of doves.
It is constant.
In Georgia, we have Mourning Doves and their call is distinctive, these are different. The produce a continual cadence of coos in a short-long-short pattern. Then there is one that provides a absolutely antagonizing sound. It sounds a little like Elmo with a chicken bone caught in his throat.
Last night we finally took the bikes off the rack and rode around a little but we were chased back in by an impending thunderstorm.
After the threat of lightning had subsided, we went on a Crab Walk. That was nice, for a few moments it seemed that we had the beach all to ourselves but soon more flashlights appeared. We weren't just overflowed with crabs but did see a goodly portion.
Since we do not have cable at home, we tend to take in a good bit of television during vacations, and it only takes a day or so for us to have our fill. And day-time television is awful! It seems that every other commercial is about people medication for people suffering from depression.
I think a better cure would be to turn off the television.
Okay, that was insensitive.
Oh yeah, R. took a fall yesterday. But I will try and talk more about that later - except to say that I think her hip is still intact.
Today we have invested in a boogey board - we have been watching kids skim along the crashing waves for the past several days. So we decided to give it a try.
If our attempt at boogey-boarding provides anything worth talking about I will let you know.
And probably if it doesn't.
It is lunch time and we have yet to breach the beach today.
Actually, it is very hot and while I know there is a cool breeze and refreshing water at the shore... I also know that in order to get there I have to comply with all those safety regulations regarding proper protection from those nasty UV rays. Once I am saturated with all that sticky sunscreen (which results in my having to walk with limbs akimbo), then I have to figure out how best to proportion all the beach paraphernalia under each arm in order to transport it to the beach.
It's easier when you are a kid - you just take off. Well, actually kids can't do that anymore, they too have to be appropriately smeared with a liberal portion of 30-weight sunscreen ... even as I post, my son is bewailing that process.
So vacation has hit it's little lull stage. That's what happens when you take vacations the way we do and don't really plan any activities.
So let me record some items about this vacation so far:
While on the beach, one might hear the call of distant seagulls, here at our condo (a short walk from the beach), we are constantly regaled with the call of doves.
It is constant.
In Georgia, we have Mourning Doves and their call is distinctive, these are different. The produce a continual cadence of coos in a short-long-short pattern. Then there is one that provides a absolutely antagonizing sound. It sounds a little like Elmo with a chicken bone caught in his throat.
Last night we finally took the bikes off the rack and rode around a little but we were chased back in by an impending thunderstorm.
After the threat of lightning had subsided, we went on a Crab Walk. That was nice, for a few moments it seemed that we had the beach all to ourselves but soon more flashlights appeared. We weren't just overflowed with crabs but did see a goodly portion.
Since we do not have cable at home, we tend to take in a good bit of television during vacations, and it only takes a day or so for us to have our fill. And day-time television is awful! It seems that every other commercial is about people medication for people suffering from depression.
I think a better cure would be to turn off the television.
Okay, that was insensitive.
Oh yeah, R. took a fall yesterday. But I will try and talk more about that later - except to say that I think her hip is still intact.
Today we have invested in a boogey board - we have been watching kids skim along the crashing waves for the past several days. So we decided to give it a try.
If our attempt at boogey-boarding provides anything worth talking about I will let you know.
And probably if it doesn't.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Chaos Meets Order
I love the beach.
It just draws me.
It lures me into something of a sense of solitude.
Now this is not always the case, because there are times that the roar of the waves are punctuated with squeals and giggles and the happy sound of feet slapping against the wet sand.
I like that, too.
Today, I didn't make it in time for the sunrise but did manage an early morning walk and I thought about the sea.
You know, it's just the coastline that has that "pulling" effect on me; I do not have the Robert Louis Stephenson type of desire to "go down to the sea in ships". I tried deep sea fishing ... once.
It was HOT.
About the only place to go to escape the punishing sun was down below - where it was HOT ... and there was no air.
And it smelled bad and there were fish "leavings" everywhere.
and it was HOT.
But the place where the land meets the sea - that's the place I want to be! (Hey - I think I may be onto something - that line would make a great Chamber of Commerce jingle... maybe I'll get a chance to pitch it before I leave and earn enough to pay for this vacation)
So what do I love about the sea?
I am drawn by the uncontrolled nature of the crashing waves. There is a sense of danger there - the ocean is untamed. There is violence and then there is the softness of foamy tide. I love the contrast amid the constant breezy roar.
I am fascinated with the big-ness of it all.
As I age, I am able to exercise a little more self-discipline against my urge to plunge into the water at every opportunity. I still remember Ab displaying that inherited trait when, at the age of three - she made a beeline for the water immediately upon our arrival at a Fort Morgan (AL) beach house. My Mom, who was with us on that trip, was accompanying her as Ab peeled down to her skivvies, leaving a trail of clothing from where we parked to the beach. By the time I arrived, she was lying down in the surf.
I remember one of our vacations when I was a child (most of which seemed to be spent in the car), Dad finally stopped long enough to let me go "see" the beach before we continued to our destination (okay there really weren't many predetermined destinations on our family vacations but we were heading somewhere); by the time they were finally able to corral me back into the car I had shed my shoes and socks and rolled up my jeans. I remember Dad being a little upset that I tracked sand into the car. There was something very compelling about plunging into that water!
I realized today that the irony of the sea coast is that it combines such chaos with a distinctive sense of order; in that sense it serves as a reminder of the BIG Creator we serve.
I think I am sometimes uncomfortable with the BIG-ness of God and the fact that He will not be controlled. But that attribute also draws me to Him.
R. and I view the same waves from two very different perspectives (it's okay - the disconsonance in our relationship adds the flavor). I see the same diversity of perspectives in our two children.
When in the water, R. and Ab both seem to stiffen against beating of the waves; they tend to fight.
AA and I, on the other hand, tend to allow the waves to carry us, enjoying the ride and the adventure of the unknown. If we go under or get tossed around - well that's part of the ride!
On the other hand, when God tosses me around a little - I tend to "stiffen" against the circumstance that push me around. There is a place in Him, in which we find the freedom to allow Him to "carry" us.
Then there's the sand - the product of centuries upon centuries of pounding waves. On some portions of the Gulf Coast in the Southern U.S. these sands are white and beautiful.
But sand isn't very dependable. If you ever attended Sunday School, you know that it does not serve as a good foundation on which to build ("the foolish man's house went SPLATT!").
This week, I have watched as numerous times, Ab or AA would write something or build something in the sand only to have it washed away with one sweep of the tide.
But there is also something compelling and something we can learn from the sand on the shore: because it is so pliable - it is renewed each day. The great castles we built yesterday, the holes we excavated, and even the cracker crumbs we left behind are all gone the next morning.
In that sense, if I can continue to allow myself to be "pliable" - changeable or teachable - God can renew me... refresh me daily. It may mean that some of my own "castles" will be wiped out - but with them will go some of those deep scars as well.
Finally, there is the marvelous sense of order that surrounds the beach. I thought of this as I watched the odd little sand crabs this morning as they busily went about their work of "cleaning" the beach of decaying fish and debris.
On Monday, Ab and I noticed something shiny float out in the distance. Some time later, we viewed a great bird soaring nearby, as he banked overhead I saw that he wasn't a gull or even a pelican ... he was more like a hawk. Then we watched as he set a determined course toward that shiny thing we had seen earlier. He swooped down and scooped it up in his talons. He made a long trek down shore from us, banked and returned swooping over our heads carrying what appeared to be a 3 to 5 pound fish.
God set all these things in place. And there is an order to them - they provide evidence of a grand design.
Chaos and order. . . an illustration of God, Himself.
I think my favorite line from Lewis' "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" is when we are remained that Aslan is not a "tame" lion... but He is good.
It just draws me.
It lures me into something of a sense of solitude.
Now this is not always the case, because there are times that the roar of the waves are punctuated with squeals and giggles and the happy sound of feet slapping against the wet sand.
I like that, too.
Today, I didn't make it in time for the sunrise but did manage an early morning walk and I thought about the sea.
You know, it's just the coastline that has that "pulling" effect on me; I do not have the Robert Louis Stephenson type of desire to "go down to the sea in ships". I tried deep sea fishing ... once.
It was HOT.
About the only place to go to escape the punishing sun was down below - where it was HOT ... and there was no air.
And it smelled bad and there were fish "leavings" everywhere.
and it was HOT.
But the place where the land meets the sea - that's the place I want to be! (Hey - I think I may be onto something - that line would make a great Chamber of Commerce jingle... maybe I'll get a chance to pitch it before I leave and earn enough to pay for this vacation)
So what do I love about the sea?
I am drawn by the uncontrolled nature of the crashing waves. There is a sense of danger there - the ocean is untamed. There is violence and then there is the softness of foamy tide. I love the contrast amid the constant breezy roar.
I am fascinated with the big-ness of it all.
As I age, I am able to exercise a little more self-discipline against my urge to plunge into the water at every opportunity. I still remember Ab displaying that inherited trait when, at the age of three - she made a beeline for the water immediately upon our arrival at a Fort Morgan (AL) beach house. My Mom, who was with us on that trip, was accompanying her as Ab peeled down to her skivvies, leaving a trail of clothing from where we parked to the beach. By the time I arrived, she was lying down in the surf.
I remember one of our vacations when I was a child (most of which seemed to be spent in the car), Dad finally stopped long enough to let me go "see" the beach before we continued to our destination (okay there really weren't many predetermined destinations on our family vacations but we were heading somewhere); by the time they were finally able to corral me back into the car I had shed my shoes and socks and rolled up my jeans. I remember Dad being a little upset that I tracked sand into the car. There was something very compelling about plunging into that water!
I realized today that the irony of the sea coast is that it combines such chaos with a distinctive sense of order; in that sense it serves as a reminder of the BIG Creator we serve.
I think I am sometimes uncomfortable with the BIG-ness of God and the fact that He will not be controlled. But that attribute also draws me to Him.
R. and I view the same waves from two very different perspectives (it's okay - the disconsonance in our relationship adds the flavor). I see the same diversity of perspectives in our two children.
When in the water, R. and Ab both seem to stiffen against beating of the waves; they tend to fight.
AA and I, on the other hand, tend to allow the waves to carry us, enjoying the ride and the adventure of the unknown. If we go under or get tossed around - well that's part of the ride!
On the other hand, when God tosses me around a little - I tend to "stiffen" against the circumstance that push me around. There is a place in Him, in which we find the freedom to allow Him to "carry" us.
Then there's the sand - the product of centuries upon centuries of pounding waves. On some portions of the Gulf Coast in the Southern U.S. these sands are white and beautiful.
But sand isn't very dependable. If you ever attended Sunday School, you know that it does not serve as a good foundation on which to build ("the foolish man's house went SPLATT!").
This week, I have watched as numerous times, Ab or AA would write something or build something in the sand only to have it washed away with one sweep of the tide.
But there is also something compelling and something we can learn from the sand on the shore: because it is so pliable - it is renewed each day. The great castles we built yesterday, the holes we excavated, and even the cracker crumbs we left behind are all gone the next morning.
In that sense, if I can continue to allow myself to be "pliable" - changeable or teachable - God can renew me... refresh me daily. It may mean that some of my own "castles" will be wiped out - but with them will go some of those deep scars as well.
Finally, there is the marvelous sense of order that surrounds the beach. I thought of this as I watched the odd little sand crabs this morning as they busily went about their work of "cleaning" the beach of decaying fish and debris.
On Monday, Ab and I noticed something shiny float out in the distance. Some time later, we viewed a great bird soaring nearby, as he banked overhead I saw that he wasn't a gull or even a pelican ... he was more like a hawk. Then we watched as he set a determined course toward that shiny thing we had seen earlier. He swooped down and scooped it up in his talons. He made a long trek down shore from us, banked and returned swooping over our heads carrying what appeared to be a 3 to 5 pound fish.
God set all these things in place. And there is an order to them - they provide evidence of a grand design.
Chaos and order. . . an illustration of God, Himself.
I think my favorite line from Lewis' "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" is when we are remained that Aslan is not a "tame" lion... but He is good.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Perdido Key Vacation Log -Day One
I am recapping some of the events of our vacation:
Day one started with some frantic preparations though not nearly as stressful as at other times.
As far as I know, not a single thing was packed before Saturday morning. All previous efforts had been aimed at a party R. had planned for Ab's Fourth Grade Girls Bible Study Group at our house; AA and I had assisted as much as possible and then stayed out of the way. We had tested the hot dogs I sacrificed on the grill and then evacuated the premises to take in a movie before the females invaded.
On Saturday, R. and Ab took care of most of the packing and the "inside" stuff, AA and I took care of the toting and lifting and such.
AA. and I had to take our garbage to the dump site. so we first had to empty my little truck of some lengthy pine logs I had removed from my brother in-law's yard. I had had an idea that I could drive my truck through some narrow landscaping up an embankment to an area on the edge of the woods. I hope to use the logs as borders for some planned areas up there. AA and I tried it and we made it to the top narrowly missing some small trees and - as I learned later- running over a couple of shrubs in the process.
Our trip back down was much more treacherous: after making attempts, I learned that there was no room to turn around on that embankment so we had to back down the hill. In order to actually get back to the driveway, I had to make a sharp turn which I couldn't seem to accomplish in reverse. We ended up getting stuck with one wheel sort of hanging precariously higher than it's mate.
We stopped and prayed . . . later, I was grateful for that opportunity for my son to learn that you can, and should go to God about everything. Within a few moments we were down the embankment and on our way.
We left behind schedule and I kept waiting for R. to display some sort of anxiety. I asked several times, what time we needed to arrive in order to pick up the keys - her replies were always calm . . . non-plussed.
Someone brought Focus on the Family's radio theatre production of C.S. Lewis' "Prince Caspian". It was three CD's and it kept us fairly occupied for 2 to 3 hours. We had spoken of a picnic but those plans were usurped by the need to make better time so we made one gas stop and one bathroom/late lunch stop at McDonalds in Greenville, Alabama.
The last hour and one-half became - well ... punishing.
The entertainment had been used up, though we tried a Dave Ramsey - Financial Peace University CD but it was soon drowned by the two way conversations emerging from the back seat.
Ab decided that it was time for her to sleep. And she announced this schedule in no-uncertain terms. Oddly enough, AA decided that it was time to sing joyfully! And furthermore, he decided that he should sing an original composition which he was writing on the spot.
If you can imagine, it was sung somewhat to the tune of Su-wan -ee, How I love ya' How I love ya'... only the words were more like:
Pensacola!
Pensacola!
You're my guy!
I don't even know what that means; but the song had its desired effect - it aggravated Ab.
So for a brief interlude, we heard a line from Pensacola! followed by the terse - "AA I'm trying to SLEEP!".
As fate would have it, about this time something stimulated my seasonal allergies and I presented a chorus of percussional sneezes.
For a few moments, we altogether produced a rhythm that would have been suitable for the stage with the troupe from "Stomp".
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! You're my Guy!
"AA, I'm Trying to SLEEP!"
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! We're coming your way!"
"AA - I'm TRYing to SL-EE-P!"
Unfortunately, the music eventually degenerated into tears.
By about Seven o'clock we made it to our condo and we soon hit the beach.
Energized by all the pent up anticipation, they played with vigor until dark.
I felt a determination to try and maintain some semblance of my exercise regimen so I ran.
I wasn't really prepared, so I ran barefooted, sometimes in some sluggish sand other times on a very slanted plane. Sometimes dodging small children and photo shoots, other times ducking to avoid being "clotheslined" by some fisherman's 80-pound, microfiber, test-line.
When I finally reached a turnaround point, I learned an important lesson: One should always determine the wind direction and include the drag-effect of gale force winds in one's calculations before actually beginning one's beach run endeavour.
I immediately felt sluggish and weighty as the wind from the incoming tides provided a constant pressure.
I felt much better having made the run.
We finished off the night with some leftover hot dogs, then we slept with the anticipation of the days ahead.
Day one started with some frantic preparations though not nearly as stressful as at other times.
As far as I know, not a single thing was packed before Saturday morning. All previous efforts had been aimed at a party R. had planned for Ab's Fourth Grade Girls Bible Study Group at our house; AA and I had assisted as much as possible and then stayed out of the way. We had tested the hot dogs I sacrificed on the grill and then evacuated the premises to take in a movie before the females invaded.
On Saturday, R. and Ab took care of most of the packing and the "inside" stuff, AA and I took care of the toting and lifting and such.
AA. and I had to take our garbage to the dump site. so we first had to empty my little truck of some lengthy pine logs I had removed from my brother in-law's yard. I had had an idea that I could drive my truck through some narrow landscaping up an embankment to an area on the edge of the woods. I hope to use the logs as borders for some planned areas up there. AA and I tried it and we made it to the top narrowly missing some small trees and - as I learned later- running over a couple of shrubs in the process.
Our trip back down was much more treacherous: after making attempts, I learned that there was no room to turn around on that embankment so we had to back down the hill. In order to actually get back to the driveway, I had to make a sharp turn which I couldn't seem to accomplish in reverse. We ended up getting stuck with one wheel sort of hanging precariously higher than it's mate.
We stopped and prayed . . . later, I was grateful for that opportunity for my son to learn that you can, and should go to God about everything. Within a few moments we were down the embankment and on our way.
We left behind schedule and I kept waiting for R. to display some sort of anxiety. I asked several times, what time we needed to arrive in order to pick up the keys - her replies were always calm . . . non-plussed.
Someone brought Focus on the Family's radio theatre production of C.S. Lewis' "Prince Caspian". It was three CD's and it kept us fairly occupied for 2 to 3 hours. We had spoken of a picnic but those plans were usurped by the need to make better time so we made one gas stop and one bathroom/late lunch stop at McDonalds in Greenville, Alabama.
The last hour and one-half became - well ... punishing.
The entertainment had been used up, though we tried a Dave Ramsey - Financial Peace University CD but it was soon drowned by the two way conversations emerging from the back seat.
Ab decided that it was time for her to sleep. And she announced this schedule in no-uncertain terms. Oddly enough, AA decided that it was time to sing joyfully! And furthermore, he decided that he should sing an original composition which he was writing on the spot.
If you can imagine, it was sung somewhat to the tune of Su-wan -ee, How I love ya' How I love ya'... only the words were more like:
Pensacola!
Pensacola!
You're my guy!
I don't even know what that means; but the song had its desired effect - it aggravated Ab.
So for a brief interlude, we heard a line from Pensacola! followed by the terse - "AA I'm trying to SLEEP!".
As fate would have it, about this time something stimulated my seasonal allergies and I presented a chorus of percussional sneezes.
For a few moments, we altogether produced a rhythm that would have been suitable for the stage with the troupe from "Stomp".
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! You're my Guy!
"AA, I'm Trying to SLEEP!"
A - CHOO!
"Pensacola! Pensacola! We're coming your way!"
"AA - I'm TRYing to SL-EE-P!"
Unfortunately, the music eventually degenerated into tears.
By about Seven o'clock we made it to our condo and we soon hit the beach.
Energized by all the pent up anticipation, they played with vigor until dark.
I felt a determination to try and maintain some semblance of my exercise regimen so I ran.
I wasn't really prepared, so I ran barefooted, sometimes in some sluggish sand other times on a very slanted plane. Sometimes dodging small children and photo shoots, other times ducking to avoid being "clotheslined" by some fisherman's 80-pound, microfiber, test-line.
When I finally reached a turnaround point, I learned an important lesson: One should always determine the wind direction and include the drag-effect of gale force winds in one's calculations before actually beginning one's beach run endeavour.
I immediately felt sluggish and weighty as the wind from the incoming tides provided a constant pressure.
I felt much better having made the run.
We finished off the night with some leftover hot dogs, then we slept with the anticipation of the days ahead.
To Catch a Sunrise
It's Monday - officially it is Day Three of our vacation - second morning in Perdido Key.
I awoke early and decided to seize the day as they say. So I sneaked out the back door just after 5:00 AM (Central time - which gave me a slight edge) and headed for the beach in search of a sunrise.
I am somewhat directionally-challenged so I am never quite sure if you can catch a "glorious" sunrise on the eastern gulf coast or not. The sky hinted toward pink as I made it to the beach and the waves seemed to be a little more thunderous and threatening than during full daylight. I should have known where Due East was - but I didn't- so I looked for the brightest area of the sky and walked in that general direction.
We are on something of a barrier island and the end toward the sunrise is bounded by a Gulf Coast National Park so the buildings end within about a mile from our beach access.
I walked along the beach until I reached the second boardwalk over the dunes and I went there to sit a moment and watch.
I don't know if it was glorious - but it was grand.
You know, those happen everyday and seldom with my notice.
It is inspiration in waiting for anyone that wants to access it - God performs this miracle everyday. . .day in and day out. They even have sunrises in Georgia, only where I live we have daylight quite awhile before one can actually see the sun. On some occasions - especially on crisp and bright winter mornings I can catch the sun brimming over the trees as I ride in to work.
I guess for me - vacations are the only time I really take the time to enjoy these events, and frankly I will even then choose to roll over and go back to sleep given the opportunity.
But every single day, God is there . . .keeping things going - without my help ... without my concern.
The song says "Morning by morning, new mercies I see . . . great is Thy faithfulness. . . ."
I am amazed at His kind faithfulness.
Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning,
For in You do I trust;
Cause me to know the way in which I should walk,
For I lift up my soul to You.
Psalm 143:8 NKJV
I awoke early and decided to seize the day as they say. So I sneaked out the back door just after 5:00 AM (Central time - which gave me a slight edge) and headed for the beach in search of a sunrise.
I am somewhat directionally-challenged so I am never quite sure if you can catch a "glorious" sunrise on the eastern gulf coast or not. The sky hinted toward pink as I made it to the beach and the waves seemed to be a little more thunderous and threatening than during full daylight. I should have known where Due East was - but I didn't- so I looked for the brightest area of the sky and walked in that general direction.
We are on something of a barrier island and the end toward the sunrise is bounded by a Gulf Coast National Park so the buildings end within about a mile from our beach access.
I walked along the beach until I reached the second boardwalk over the dunes and I went there to sit a moment and watch.
I don't know if it was glorious - but it was grand.
You know, those happen everyday and seldom with my notice.
It is inspiration in waiting for anyone that wants to access it - God performs this miracle everyday. . .day in and day out. They even have sunrises in Georgia, only where I live we have daylight quite awhile before one can actually see the sun. On some occasions - especially on crisp and bright winter mornings I can catch the sun brimming over the trees as I ride in to work.
I guess for me - vacations are the only time I really take the time to enjoy these events, and frankly I will even then choose to roll over and go back to sleep given the opportunity.
But every single day, God is there . . .keeping things going - without my help ... without my concern.
The song says "Morning by morning, new mercies I see . . . great is Thy faithfulness. . . ."
I am amazed at His kind faithfulness.
Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning,
For in You do I trust;
Cause me to know the way in which I should walk,
For I lift up my soul to You.
Psalm 143:8 NKJV
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The Boy Stood On the Burning Deck!
As I awoke this morning, the first morning of our vacation trip - I thought of those words - "The boy stood on the burning deck!"
It is a verse that I have considered several times lately, as I intended to use it for my Father's Day post. This morning it the words came to me without beckon, since it is a line a associate with vacations, Saturdays, and the like.
"The boy stood on the burning deck!..." is my Dad's wake up call. Now, as I remember Mom usually had the responsibility of getting me up on school days. Dad only stepped in when sleep held an especially stubborn sway over me.
But on the weekends and on the occasional vacation, Dad would bound in boisterously yelling:
"The boy stood on the burning deck! The BOY stood on the burning deck! THE B-O-Y stood on the burning deck ...and I don't see how he did it!"
This was repeated over and over with an emphasis on different words in the line upon each repetition.
I remember it fondly now, but when I was child and especially when I had reached adolescence - it could be very annoying.
It's my Dad's trademark.
My Dad is not verbal with his affection. It is very difficult for him to say - "I love you" - but he demonstrates his affection -often by teasing or picking on people. Waking people up - especially kids - in an annoying manner was a GREAT opportunity for Dad to show his love.
I think Dad's father - my Granddad - probably used the line himself. Dad certainly passed it on to us. I know my brother and I have attempted to carry on the tradition many times.
On this Father's Day - when Dad is not doing very well mentally or physically - that wake up call brings me warm memories.
Before posting this morning, I did some quick Internet research found that the line came from a poem from the 1800s, called "Casabianca" and was written by Felecia Dorothea Hemans. It surrounded an actual event that occurred in 1798 aboard the French vessel The Orient. When the ship caught fire (possibly during a battle with the British), the young son of the Commander, Louis de Casabianca, remained steadfastly at his post awaiting his father's instruction. The faithful boy perished when the magazine blew up.
I think I will place it here as a Father's Day tribute to my Dad and other dads everywhere (I pulled the poem fromhttp://endtimepilgrim.org/boystood.htm) :
Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud..."Say, father, say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;
And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.
Even on vacations, my family doesn't respond well to being awakened suddenly by boisterous yelling. I guess we didn't welcome my Dad's occasional recitations either.
On this Father's Day, my Dad's voice is weak and his joy seems to have all but diminished - I remember the smile that could be heard in my his exuberant voice.
"'Speak Father' once again he cried..."
Happy Father's Day!
It is a verse that I have considered several times lately, as I intended to use it for my Father's Day post. This morning it the words came to me without beckon, since it is a line a associate with vacations, Saturdays, and the like.
"The boy stood on the burning deck!..." is my Dad's wake up call. Now, as I remember Mom usually had the responsibility of getting me up on school days. Dad only stepped in when sleep held an especially stubborn sway over me.
But on the weekends and on the occasional vacation, Dad would bound in boisterously yelling:
"The boy stood on the burning deck! The BOY stood on the burning deck! THE B-O-Y stood on the burning deck ...and I don't see how he did it!"
This was repeated over and over with an emphasis on different words in the line upon each repetition.
I remember it fondly now, but when I was child and especially when I had reached adolescence - it could be very annoying.
It's my Dad's trademark.
My Dad is not verbal with his affection. It is very difficult for him to say - "I love you" - but he demonstrates his affection -often by teasing or picking on people. Waking people up - especially kids - in an annoying manner was a GREAT opportunity for Dad to show his love.
I think Dad's father - my Granddad - probably used the line himself. Dad certainly passed it on to us. I know my brother and I have attempted to carry on the tradition many times.
On this Father's Day - when Dad is not doing very well mentally or physically - that wake up call brings me warm memories.
Before posting this morning, I did some quick Internet research found that the line came from a poem from the 1800s, called "Casabianca" and was written by Felecia Dorothea Hemans. It surrounded an actual event that occurred in 1798 aboard the French vessel The Orient. When the ship caught fire (possibly during a battle with the British), the young son of the Commander, Louis de Casabianca, remained steadfastly at his post awaiting his father's instruction. The faithful boy perished when the magazine blew up.
I think I will place it here as a Father's Day tribute to my Dad and other dads everywhere (I pulled the poem fromhttp://endtimepilgrim.org/boystood.htm) :
Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud..."Say, father, say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;
And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.
Even on vacations, my family doesn't respond well to being awakened suddenly by boisterous yelling. I guess we didn't welcome my Dad's occasional recitations either.
On this Father's Day, my Dad's voice is weak and his joy seems to have all but diminished - I remember the smile that could be heard in my his exuberant voice.
"'Speak Father' once again he cried..."
Happy Father's Day!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Lost Donkeys
Do you ever lose things?
As old age continues tightening its grip on this body and mind that used to belong to me, I occasionally misplace things.
I have a son who, due to his age or gender or family tree - misplaces things often.
How do you respond when you mislay an item? Do you put out a family "APB"? Do you remain calm and retrace your steps? or do you frantically begin upending furniture and dumping drawers in an effort to uncover the item?
Losing things can be very frustrating.
We lose our cat at times (as you may recall). Last night it was determined at a very late hour that our little "Angel" was missing (that's our cat and it should be noted that in the world of good and evil, both sides have angels). I was a little frustrated.
This morning (I had taken the day off), we quickly found her . . . stuck in yet another tree.
After now three rescues from trees - this cat has developed a severe learning disability when it comes to the question of how to extricate one's self from a tree.
My reading of the Bible in the book of I Samuel has taken me to the enigmatic character of Saul, the first King of Israel.
A point was made in a commentary by Finis J. Dake about Saul's initial call into the role of monarch, and I found it quite interesting.
You see, Saul's Dad was a landowner, apparently fairly well off. They had fields and cattle. When the donkeys went missing for a time, his father sent him and a servant to find them.
They traveled to many villages and after several days they decided they had better return lest his father give up worrying about the donkeys and start worrying about Saul and the servant. As something of a last ditch effort, Saul and the servant devised a plan to go to a Seer or a Prophet of God who could possibly tell them where the donkeys ended up.
The "Seer" turned out to be none other that the man of God - Samuel.
God had already prepared Samuel for the meeting, telling him what would transpire and what he should say to the young man that would come to seek his help.
Samuel convinced Saul and his servant to stay with him for a few days and as he was sending Saul off, Samuel gave him the message from God.
He anointed Saul to become the king of Israel.
Later we learn that Saul was so timid and backward that when he was to be officially announced to the nation - he ran and hid.
Dake pointed out that Saul couldn't have been lured to a meeting to discuss his role in the future of Israel. So God used the lost donkeys to arrange a "chance" meeting between Saul and Samuel.
The next time something goes missing, maybe you should ask yourself: "What kind of "chance" encounter does God have lined up for me? How could this event be wrapped up somehow in the destiny God has prepared for me?"
Incidentally, it turns out that- unlike my cat - the lost donkeys were not waiting around for someone to come and find them (and apparently they had not climbed any trees!). Instead they returned home on their own accord. . . . are you listening, Angel?!?
As old age continues tightening its grip on this body and mind that used to belong to me, I occasionally misplace things.
I have a son who, due to his age or gender or family tree - misplaces things often.
How do you respond when you mislay an item? Do you put out a family "APB"? Do you remain calm and retrace your steps? or do you frantically begin upending furniture and dumping drawers in an effort to uncover the item?
Losing things can be very frustrating.
We lose our cat at times (as you may recall). Last night it was determined at a very late hour that our little "Angel" was missing (that's our cat and it should be noted that in the world of good and evil, both sides have angels). I was a little frustrated.
This morning (I had taken the day off), we quickly found her . . . stuck in yet another tree.
After now three rescues from trees - this cat has developed a severe learning disability when it comes to the question of how to extricate one's self from a tree.
My reading of the Bible in the book of I Samuel has taken me to the enigmatic character of Saul, the first King of Israel.
A point was made in a commentary by Finis J. Dake about Saul's initial call into the role of monarch, and I found it quite interesting.
You see, Saul's Dad was a landowner, apparently fairly well off. They had fields and cattle. When the donkeys went missing for a time, his father sent him and a servant to find them.
They traveled to many villages and after several days they decided they had better return lest his father give up worrying about the donkeys and start worrying about Saul and the servant. As something of a last ditch effort, Saul and the servant devised a plan to go to a Seer or a Prophet of God who could possibly tell them where the donkeys ended up.
The "Seer" turned out to be none other that the man of God - Samuel.
God had already prepared Samuel for the meeting, telling him what would transpire and what he should say to the young man that would come to seek his help.
Samuel convinced Saul and his servant to stay with him for a few days and as he was sending Saul off, Samuel gave him the message from God.
He anointed Saul to become the king of Israel.
Later we learn that Saul was so timid and backward that when he was to be officially announced to the nation - he ran and hid.
Dake pointed out that Saul couldn't have been lured to a meeting to discuss his role in the future of Israel. So God used the lost donkeys to arrange a "chance" meeting between Saul and Samuel.
The next time something goes missing, maybe you should ask yourself: "What kind of "chance" encounter does God have lined up for me? How could this event be wrapped up somehow in the destiny God has prepared for me?"
Incidentally, it turns out that- unlike my cat - the lost donkeys were not waiting around for someone to come and find them (and apparently they had not climbed any trees!). Instead they returned home on their own accord. . . . are you listening, Angel?!?
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Dashed Hopes - Part II
When we last left Israel they were devastated.
Absolutely every foundation seemed to have been kicked out from under them.
What's more, God . . . the God they had always known . . . always depended on . . . the God Who always caused them to triumph - had let them down.
In fact it appeared that He was fallible. His Ark had failed to bring victory over the enemy - even worse, it had been stolen!
I remember reading about discipline when R. and I had very small babies - I think it came from a James Dobson book. Anyway, the writer was talking about the perils of never saying "no" to our children. It gives them an undue sense of power. The writer said their is nothing more terrifying than for a child to be the biggest thing in his world.
When we feel that God is fallible - it can be very terrifying.
I was happy to continue reading the story, because I learned that the God of this Ark of the Covenant that was stolen began to wreck havoc all over the place in the land of the Philistines!
They placed the Ark -like a trophy - in the temple of their idol god, Dagon. The next morning Dagon was on his face before the Ark.
Marking it up to coincidence, they set the false god back up and the next morning he was prostrate again... this time his head and hands had been severed.
The people broke out in tumors (some say that these tumors were hemorrhoids but I digress) and other plagues descended on their nation. And the people in each town were in such a hurry to get the Ark out of their town that it developed into something of a nationwide tour!
After seven months of pain and torment, they sent the Ark back.
See, God's power was not diminished in the least. In fact, it's amazing to me but He proved that He could defeat these enemies with or without an army.
This proves that the Israelites were not defeated because God had left them. . . it was rather because they had left God. And in this case, His idea of what would be best for them - was a gully-washer of a defeat.
There was another instance in which people watched and waited for God to come through at the last minute.
As Jesus hung on the cross . . . just a vulgar shell of Man in appearance now. . . I think some of those boys that had followed Him around for three years, just knew He would pull out a game-saving play at the end.
Then He cried "it ... is ... finished ..."
...and breathed His last.
What a moment of dashed hopes!
Despite what He had been telling them for the past few days ... despite the fact that His mood had darkened and become more sorrowful and heavy ... they still thought He had a trick up His sleeve.
He had something better for them... and the only way to get to the better was by going through defeat.
And dashed hopes.
I heard a sermon the other day by a Presbyterian Pastor by the name of Pratt - my in-laws had ordered a CD after hearing the sermon at a church in Memphis. It was from the first chapter of Acts.
Being a Charismatic-Pentecostal who is now wading cautiously into the deep waters of Reformed Theology - I was curious to see what he would do with the second chapter of Acts.
His point, however, revolved around a verse in the first chapter in which the Apostles asked Jesus if He would now restore the KINGDOM.
They were still looking for something different from Christ's plan. They still wanted to see Jesus set up shop here on earth and kick those Romans out of His house! They had some preconceived notions as to what the Kingdom of God would look like.
When Jesus indicated that it wasn't for them to know... their hopes were once again dashed.
Pratt did a good job of pointing out how truly disappointed they were, it seemed as if Jesus had let them down.
To illustrate, he talked about how many Christian Americans have thought of our nation as something of God's kingdom here on earth... we feed the nations, the gospel is preached in abundance here and multitudes are launched from American churches into mission work on foreign soil. . . this must be God's kingdom - or something like it!
Yet when we see the nation turning so rapidly in another direction as we have seen over recent years - our hopes become dashed.
We may even feel that God has let us down - when unjust laws are not overturned - when evil is rewarded - when the good are put down ....
It might feel something like getting kicked in the stomach.
That's how those apostles felt.
The good thing is: their hopelessness drove them together and together drove them to prayer.
Days later, despite the fact that the KINGDOM didn't quite come as they'd planned - the church was launched!
God had something better for them ... but to get to His "better" they needed to go through a time of having their hopes dashed.
'Hopes dashed today?
Let it drive you to prayer.
I think you will emerge to see that God had a "better" thing planned all along!
Absolutely every foundation seemed to have been kicked out from under them.
What's more, God . . . the God they had always known . . . always depended on . . . the God Who always caused them to triumph - had let them down.
In fact it appeared that He was fallible. His Ark had failed to bring victory over the enemy - even worse, it had been stolen!
I remember reading about discipline when R. and I had very small babies - I think it came from a James Dobson book. Anyway, the writer was talking about the perils of never saying "no" to our children. It gives them an undue sense of power. The writer said their is nothing more terrifying than for a child to be the biggest thing in his world.
When we feel that God is fallible - it can be very terrifying.
I was happy to continue reading the story, because I learned that the God of this Ark of the Covenant that was stolen began to wreck havoc all over the place in the land of the Philistines!
They placed the Ark -like a trophy - in the temple of their idol god, Dagon. The next morning Dagon was on his face before the Ark.
Marking it up to coincidence, they set the false god back up and the next morning he was prostrate again... this time his head and hands had been severed.
The people broke out in tumors (some say that these tumors were hemorrhoids but I digress) and other plagues descended on their nation. And the people in each town were in such a hurry to get the Ark out of their town that it developed into something of a nationwide tour!
After seven months of pain and torment, they sent the Ark back.
See, God's power was not diminished in the least. In fact, it's amazing to me but He proved that He could defeat these enemies with or without an army.
This proves that the Israelites were not defeated because God had left them. . . it was rather because they had left God. And in this case, His idea of what would be best for them - was a gully-washer of a defeat.
There was another instance in which people watched and waited for God to come through at the last minute.
As Jesus hung on the cross . . . just a vulgar shell of Man in appearance now. . . I think some of those boys that had followed Him around for three years, just knew He would pull out a game-saving play at the end.
Then He cried "it ... is ... finished ..."
...and breathed His last.
What a moment of dashed hopes!
Despite what He had been telling them for the past few days ... despite the fact that His mood had darkened and become more sorrowful and heavy ... they still thought He had a trick up His sleeve.
He had something better for them... and the only way to get to the better was by going through defeat.
And dashed hopes.
I heard a sermon the other day by a Presbyterian Pastor by the name of Pratt - my in-laws had ordered a CD after hearing the sermon at a church in Memphis. It was from the first chapter of Acts.
Being a Charismatic-Pentecostal who is now wading cautiously into the deep waters of Reformed Theology - I was curious to see what he would do with the second chapter of Acts.
His point, however, revolved around a verse in the first chapter in which the Apostles asked Jesus if He would now restore the KINGDOM.
They were still looking for something different from Christ's plan. They still wanted to see Jesus set up shop here on earth and kick those Romans out of His house! They had some preconceived notions as to what the Kingdom of God would look like.
When Jesus indicated that it wasn't for them to know... their hopes were once again dashed.
Pratt did a good job of pointing out how truly disappointed they were, it seemed as if Jesus had let them down.
To illustrate, he talked about how many Christian Americans have thought of our nation as something of God's kingdom here on earth... we feed the nations, the gospel is preached in abundance here and multitudes are launched from American churches into mission work on foreign soil. . . this must be God's kingdom - or something like it!
Yet when we see the nation turning so rapidly in another direction as we have seen over recent years - our hopes become dashed.
We may even feel that God has let us down - when unjust laws are not overturned - when evil is rewarded - when the good are put down ....
It might feel something like getting kicked in the stomach.
That's how those apostles felt.
The good thing is: their hopelessness drove them together and together drove them to prayer.
Days later, despite the fact that the KINGDOM didn't quite come as they'd planned - the church was launched!
God had something better for them ... but to get to His "better" they needed to go through a time of having their hopes dashed.
'Hopes dashed today?
Let it drive you to prayer.
I think you will emerge to see that God had a "better" thing planned all along!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Let Down by God - Dashed Hopes
This post will not involve any more babbling on about snakes.
How's that title for provocative?
I read of an incident a couple weeks ago in the book of I Samuel (that's in the Bible) that brought to mind the idea of God failing to come through.
You know, we Christians often count on the Lord as some spiritual cavalry Who always rides in at the last moment with the clarion call of the bugle and saves the day (watch the one of the later scenes of the movie "Stagecoach" for an illustration of this point).
So what happens when He doesn't ride in? How do we react when the "Hail Mary" pass falls short, clock runs out and the game is lost?
That is one of those possibilities that we Christians may think we shouldn't talk about- the possibility that God won't answer our prayer or at least that He won't answer as we think He should.
Do you remember me lamenting on the book of Judges in the Old Testament and how it was just a picture of the nation of Israel spiraling down? Well in the early part of I Samuel we see the result of that downward spiral: a void of sound, godly leadership and corruption and abuse from those the people looked to for help.
It all came to a climax.
The climax began with a tender voice calling in the night to a small boy... "Samuel, Samuel!"
If you went to Sunday School as a child, you heard that story.
Samuel listened to his mentor, the old man - Eli, and followed his instruction when the Voice called again.
"Speak Lord, I'm listening..."
And God foretold the peril that would strike the nation and the corrupt household of the old priest, Eli.
It all happened.
A battle erupted and the Israelites were losing so they decided to bring the Ark of the Covenant - the representation of God's presence on earth - into the battle.
I'm sure they mistook symbolism for substance and remembered tales of times that "God came into the camp and turned the battle". So they figured the Ark would do the trick.
God is not into parlor tricks.
The Philistines -perennial nemesis to the nation of Israel - thought the same thing as the Israelites; when word came to them that the Ark was in the camp, they were sure their proverbial geese were cooked. Their leaders essentially told them to "man-up" and go down fighting.
Well they all thought wrong. Because this time, God didn't come through.
To add insult to injury, the entire household of the old priest, Eli all died. . . including Eli.
As his daughter-in-law went into labor and died in childbirth, she cursed the infant with the name - Ichabod . That means - the glory of the Lord has departed.
Worst of all, the Ark was stolen. The Glory truly had departed.
Surely they thought that their last link to God had slipped through their fingers and they couldn't get God back.
The only description I can give for how I think they felt is that feeling of being kicked in the stomach.
Their hopes were dashed.
I hope to say more about that later.
How's that title for provocative?
I read of an incident a couple weeks ago in the book of I Samuel (that's in the Bible) that brought to mind the idea of God failing to come through.
You know, we Christians often count on the Lord as some spiritual cavalry Who always rides in at the last moment with the clarion call of the bugle and saves the day (watch the one of the later scenes of the movie "Stagecoach" for an illustration of this point).
So what happens when He doesn't ride in? How do we react when the "Hail Mary" pass falls short, clock runs out and the game is lost?
That is one of those possibilities that we Christians may think we shouldn't talk about- the possibility that God won't answer our prayer or at least that He won't answer as we think He should.
Do you remember me lamenting on the book of Judges in the Old Testament and how it was just a picture of the nation of Israel spiraling down? Well in the early part of I Samuel we see the result of that downward spiral: a void of sound, godly leadership and corruption and abuse from those the people looked to for help.
It all came to a climax.
The climax began with a tender voice calling in the night to a small boy... "Samuel, Samuel!"
If you went to Sunday School as a child, you heard that story.
Samuel listened to his mentor, the old man - Eli, and followed his instruction when the Voice called again.
"Speak Lord, I'm listening..."
And God foretold the peril that would strike the nation and the corrupt household of the old priest, Eli.
It all happened.
A battle erupted and the Israelites were losing so they decided to bring the Ark of the Covenant - the representation of God's presence on earth - into the battle.
I'm sure they mistook symbolism for substance and remembered tales of times that "God came into the camp and turned the battle". So they figured the Ark would do the trick.
God is not into parlor tricks.
The Philistines -perennial nemesis to the nation of Israel - thought the same thing as the Israelites; when word came to them that the Ark was in the camp, they were sure their proverbial geese were cooked. Their leaders essentially told them to "man-up" and go down fighting.
Well they all thought wrong. Because this time, God didn't come through.
To add insult to injury, the entire household of the old priest, Eli all died. . . including Eli.
As his daughter-in-law went into labor and died in childbirth, she cursed the infant with the name - Ichabod . That means - the glory of the Lord has departed.
Worst of all, the Ark was stolen. The Glory truly had departed.
Surely they thought that their last link to God had slipped through their fingers and they couldn't get God back.
The only description I can give for how I think they felt is that feeling of being kicked in the stomach.
Their hopes were dashed.
I hope to say more about that later.
Two Kinds of Snakes
My Dad says there are only two kinds of snakes: dead ones and live ones and I'm scared of both!
After announcing my abysmal ignorance to the entire world - complete with pictures - I am here to retract my previous statement that the snake we encountered on our driveway Saturday was a "rattlesnake".
I have received second hand information that came straight from a Forestry Ranger - that my snake was not a rattlesnake - but a Copperhead. I confirmed this tonight on the UGA site.
I'm sorry.
I stopped reading Mark Trail when he caved in to political correctness and stopped smoking a pipe.
Actually, I never read much of Mark Trail in the Sunday Comics - I just couldn't find the humor in it.
But if I had - maybe I wouldn't have mistaken the distinctive "hourglass" pattern on that snake's back - for a "diamond-back" pattern. And maybe I wouldn't have continued to exam the diminishing tail of that snake - LOOKING FOR SOME SIGN OF A RATTLER!
I always thought Copperheads had a brighter - new penny - sort of color to their heads.
I saw one once. Long ago, I worked for a 1000 watt Christian radio station and I operated the board for Pastor Steve Croyle's local afternoon talk show. There are some churches not too far from my home that take very literally the verse in the Bible about "taking up serpents" and Pastor Steve interviewed someone from one of those churches.
It was a non-confrontational interview (I mean do you really want to get a man riled that passes deadly snakes around in Sunday School?) - after the program, Steve and I went out to the guy's car where he produced a small wooden box with a Copperhead in it. It seems to me that the snake had a very bright head. Anyway, I was glad that he didn't invite us to have a prayer meeting.
So naturally, I wrongly assumed that the snake must have been a RATTLER.
Besides, there is a certain amount of glory associated with triumphing over a RATTLESNAKE. I remember my brother's first car - it was like a 1949 model Plymouth or something. But only a short time before he bought it, the car had been pictured on the front page of the Cedartown Standard (our local yarn) - because the former owner had killed a RATTLESNAKE in that car.
So, of course, after all the adrenaline subsided and after I was sure the snake was dead, and after I had tossed and turned almost all night thinking about what might have been - I liked the idea of having triumphed over a RATTLER... I don't live too very far away from Cedartown - perhaps the Standard would want my picture?
Believe me, I would much rather put the snake episode behind me. I would also like to be able to walk around in my yard again without constantly looking down.
After announcing my abysmal ignorance to the entire world - complete with pictures - I am here to retract my previous statement that the snake we encountered on our driveway Saturday was a "rattlesnake".
I have received second hand information that came straight from a Forestry Ranger - that my snake was not a rattlesnake - but a Copperhead. I confirmed this tonight on the UGA site.
I'm sorry.
I stopped reading Mark Trail when he caved in to political correctness and stopped smoking a pipe.
Actually, I never read much of Mark Trail in the Sunday Comics - I just couldn't find the humor in it.
But if I had - maybe I wouldn't have mistaken the distinctive "hourglass" pattern on that snake's back - for a "diamond-back" pattern. And maybe I wouldn't have continued to exam the diminishing tail of that snake - LOOKING FOR SOME SIGN OF A RATTLER!
I always thought Copperheads had a brighter - new penny - sort of color to their heads.
I saw one once. Long ago, I worked for a 1000 watt Christian radio station and I operated the board for Pastor Steve Croyle's local afternoon talk show. There are some churches not too far from my home that take very literally the verse in the Bible about "taking up serpents" and Pastor Steve interviewed someone from one of those churches.
It was a non-confrontational interview (I mean do you really want to get a man riled that passes deadly snakes around in Sunday School?) - after the program, Steve and I went out to the guy's car where he produced a small wooden box with a Copperhead in it. It seems to me that the snake had a very bright head. Anyway, I was glad that he didn't invite us to have a prayer meeting.
So naturally, I wrongly assumed that the snake must have been a RATTLER.
Besides, there is a certain amount of glory associated with triumphing over a RATTLESNAKE. I remember my brother's first car - it was like a 1949 model Plymouth or something. But only a short time before he bought it, the car had been pictured on the front page of the Cedartown Standard (our local yarn) - because the former owner had killed a RATTLESNAKE in that car.
So, of course, after all the adrenaline subsided and after I was sure the snake was dead, and after I had tossed and turned almost all night thinking about what might have been - I liked the idea of having triumphed over a RATTLER... I don't live too very far away from Cedartown - perhaps the Standard would want my picture?
Believe me, I would much rather put the snake episode behind me. I would also like to be able to walk around in my yard again without constantly looking down.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Dead Woodland Creatures, Goths and Mommy-Blogs
As the weekend subsided and I returned to something of normalcy - I began to re-think that last post.
Those four or five of you that read this blog on anything like a regular basis know that I am all across the boards as far as subject matter. I mean, most blogs are about one thing - they attract a niche audience of people who like what that blog is about. I think that is how bloggers develop devoted fans. . . and it's probably also why my readers number in the half-dozen or so.
I like Mommy-Blogs - to a certain degree. I enjoy the insights of some of these nurturing unsung heroes. I like to see what their kids are doing and the cute things they say. I include my kids here at times...
There! - satisfied?
But you wouldn't really call this a "Mommy-Blog" - and if people thought that it was - imagine the shock that would ensue as they read the preceding blog with it's photographs of dead woodland creatures and a decapitated snake.
That was what I was re-thinking.
I mean what kind of readers can I hope to attract?!?
I am thinking that the title of this post coupled with the pictures from the preceding post, should land me near the top of some gothic search engine. I mean there's nothing like a reference to "Dead Woodland Creatures..." to raise a few pierced eyebrows. Who knows, a "black-lip-sticked" smile may even trace a path across some one's pale face.
Actually, I'm kidding.
I do think I will consider a WARNING label before the next post involving slain animals.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Eventful Weekend
I've been going over plans for a post with some "deep spiritual insight" most of the past week. I even put some things down but like a bite of poached salmon at a fancy dinner engagement - the thing just grew and grew.
So I thought I would use this platform to tell you about my weekend.
My grueling week ended and the weekend was launched with the discovery of two "gifts" from our muderous cat as I arrived home.
With the onslaught of spring and all the bursting forth of nature that it brings - our cat has had a wonderful time decreasing the population of so many wee animals.
Saturday was a "Daddy-Day" since R. was working but the kids and I busied ourselves working around the house and yard most of the day. They even prepared an innovative lunch for me...
"Ta-Da!"
Ab added some decorative touches to the back porch dining affair with fresh-cut flowers...
R. returned home and the afternoon was a busy one.
We topped it off with dinner at the home of R.'s Mom and Dad.
On our way home, the final adventure ensued:
The in-laws live within walking distance but it is a good stretch-of-the-legs; AA and I opted (as we often do) to walk home while the females drove.
All the way up our driveway, AA and I acted up in the lumination of R.'s headlights as she urged us on by honking. When we reached the point at which our driveway circles, AA and I bore left as Mom and Ab bore right to pass us and beat us to the garage.
In the dusky darkness, I saw something unusual on the driveway - between AA and I.
Well, it was a snake and AA had trotted right past it (or over it for all I know). As I got closer, I didn't like what I thought I saw, but in the darkness it was hard to tell what kind of snake it was.
Communication is difficult at our house: it is virtually impossible to get one's point across from room to room - if one is on the outside, its pretty much impossible to get the attention of someone inside. Mom had gone inside, oblivious to our plight.
Ab and AA both came for closer looks and Ab ran errands, first to turn on the outside light - which proved to be of no value - then to bring a flashlight with AA and I stood guard over our "visitor".
The flashlight revealed that it was a rattlesnake - only there were no rattles that I could tell.
Ab then went again, to fetch a hoe.
I attacked him from the rear and it took a third blow to actually kill the snake (considering that I missed altogether one time).
Here's a picture:
I examined it's mouth to be sure it had fangs - I didn't want someone coming back and telling me later that I killed a pine snake or something.
I will be honest in telling you that this has troubled me - I love our home in the woods, and our kids play in or near the woods a lot. I didn't sleep well last night.
We have always entrusted our children to God's care and we pray continually for their protection - close calls like this just bring home the fact that there are dangers out there.
Will God come through every time?
I believe He will. But because He is Sovereign ( He reigns over everything), His definition of "coming through" may not be the same as mine.
Those are the times in which I have to trust that He will also provide me with the strength I need to endure.
So I thought I would use this platform to tell you about my weekend.
My grueling week ended and the weekend was launched with the discovery of two "gifts" from our muderous cat as I arrived home.
With the onslaught of spring and all the bursting forth of nature that it brings - our cat has had a wonderful time decreasing the population of so many wee animals.Saturday was a "Daddy-Day" since R. was working but the kids and I busied ourselves working around the house and yard most of the day. They even prepared an innovative lunch for me...
"Ta-Da!"
Ab added some decorative touches to the back porch dining affair with fresh-cut flowers...
R. returned home and the afternoon was a busy one.
We topped it off with dinner at the home of R.'s Mom and Dad.
On our way home, the final adventure ensued:
The in-laws live within walking distance but it is a good stretch-of-the-legs; AA and I opted (as we often do) to walk home while the females drove.
All the way up our driveway, AA and I acted up in the lumination of R.'s headlights as she urged us on by honking. When we reached the point at which our driveway circles, AA and I bore left as Mom and Ab bore right to pass us and beat us to the garage.
In the dusky darkness, I saw something unusual on the driveway - between AA and I.
Well, it was a snake and AA had trotted right past it (or over it for all I know). As I got closer, I didn't like what I thought I saw, but in the darkness it was hard to tell what kind of snake it was.
Communication is difficult at our house: it is virtually impossible to get one's point across from room to room - if one is on the outside, its pretty much impossible to get the attention of someone inside. Mom had gone inside, oblivious to our plight.
Ab and AA both came for closer looks and Ab ran errands, first to turn on the outside light - which proved to be of no value - then to bring a flashlight with AA and I stood guard over our "visitor".
The flashlight revealed that it was a rattlesnake - only there were no rattles that I could tell.
Ab then went again, to fetch a hoe.
I attacked him from the rear and it took a third blow to actually kill the snake (considering that I missed altogether one time).
Here's a picture:
I examined it's mouth to be sure it had fangs - I didn't want someone coming back and telling me later that I killed a pine snake or something.
I will be honest in telling you that this has troubled me - I love our home in the woods, and our kids play in or near the woods a lot. I didn't sleep well last night.
We have always entrusted our children to God's care and we pray continually for their protection - close calls like this just bring home the fact that there are dangers out there.
Will God come through every time?
I believe He will. But because He is Sovereign ( He reigns over everything), His definition of "coming through" may not be the same as mine.
Those are the times in which I have to trust that He will also provide me with the strength I need to endure.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
When God Ran
An image coasted in from my memory the other day while I was running... well trotting - the image almost immediately reminded me of a song written by Benny Hester:
Almighty God, The Great I Am
Immoveable Rock, Omnipotent powerful
Awesome Lord, Victorious Warrior
Commanding King of Kings
Mighty Conquerer,
And the only time,
the only time I ever saw Him run
Was when He ran to me, Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son, do you know I still love you?"
It caught me by surprise when God ran
It's a great song and a great play on words... Phillips, Craig & Dean re-recorded it a few years
ago.
Here's the image I got:
We were at a company picnic at a little resort -of sorts -called "Turkey Mountain" in northwest Georgia.
Dad had taken me on a pony ride. He led the pony - I rode. As I recall, we went along a path between the go-cart track and the lake. As we reached a point where there were picnic tables Dad needed a breather so he sat at one of the tables.
It was at that point that the pony decided to make a break for freedom!
As a parent now, I can only imagine how my Dad felt when with a bolt the horse was gone and the rider with him!
We determined later - (I did survive the incident) - that the pony was just headed back to the barn. In my memory, we were galloping at extremely high speeds and I was hanging on for dear life. I could remember how to handle the reigns to turn my steed to the left or to the right - but for the life of me, I couldn't remember "stop". Using my limited knowledge I pulled my steed rightward to avoid the oncoming traffic of the go-cart track and then leeward, to avoid the lake.
Meanwhile, Dad was behind me . . . running.
As I have mentioned before, athletics were not a priority with my Dad; it was more important that we have our weekends free for trips to travel to Griffin, Georgia to see my grandparents - than for his children to develop their athletic prowess. Dad did participate in an occasional game of "Short & Long" or "Roll-to-the-Bat", but he just wasn't much for recreational activity.
That is why the image of him running behind me left such an impression on me.
Fortunately, some guy that worked with Dad, came along and stopped the charging mount.
Moments later, Dad raced up - sweating and gasping for air.
That's the image I got: Dad displaying his care and concern by doing something so extraordinary and out of character - just to be sure I was safe.
What a fine thing for a Dad to do.
And what a fine illustration of my heavenly Father's love and deep concern for you and me.
Almighty God, The Great I Am
Immoveable Rock, Omnipotent powerful
Awesome Lord, Victorious Warrior
Commanding King of Kings
Mighty Conquerer,
And the only time,
the only time I ever saw Him run
Was when He ran to me, Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son, do you know I still love you?"
It caught me by surprise when God ran
It's a great song and a great play on words... Phillips, Craig & Dean re-recorded it a few years
ago.
Here's the image I got:
We were at a company picnic at a little resort -of sorts -called "Turkey Mountain" in northwest Georgia.
Dad had taken me on a pony ride. He led the pony - I rode. As I recall, we went along a path between the go-cart track and the lake. As we reached a point where there were picnic tables Dad needed a breather so he sat at one of the tables.
It was at that point that the pony decided to make a break for freedom!
As a parent now, I can only imagine how my Dad felt when with a bolt the horse was gone and the rider with him!
We determined later - (I did survive the incident) - that the pony was just headed back to the barn. In my memory, we were galloping at extremely high speeds and I was hanging on for dear life. I could remember how to handle the reigns to turn my steed to the left or to the right - but for the life of me, I couldn't remember "stop". Using my limited knowledge I pulled my steed rightward to avoid the oncoming traffic of the go-cart track and then leeward, to avoid the lake.
Meanwhile, Dad was behind me . . . running.
As I have mentioned before, athletics were not a priority with my Dad; it was more important that we have our weekends free for trips to travel to Griffin, Georgia to see my grandparents - than for his children to develop their athletic prowess. Dad did participate in an occasional game of "Short & Long" or "Roll-to-the-Bat", but he just wasn't much for recreational activity.
That is why the image of him running behind me left such an impression on me.
Fortunately, some guy that worked with Dad, came along and stopped the charging mount.
Moments later, Dad raced up - sweating and gasping for air.
That's the image I got: Dad displaying his care and concern by doing something so extraordinary and out of character - just to be sure I was safe.
What a fine thing for a Dad to do.
And what a fine illustration of my heavenly Father's love and deep concern for you and me.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Introducing The Marx Brothers
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One of my favorite things to do in life is to watch a genuinely funny movie with someone that laughs more than I do.
My brother-in-law is a great movie companion - he laughs at most anything. When he and my sister were newlyweds and I - being seven years my sister's junior- was still at home, when they would come to visit, he and I would often watch a late movie. A comedy that was just fair could be hilarious with him around.
The only problem with my brother-in-law was that if the action slowed down- we lost him to sleep. It was always a big disappointment when the hilarity kicked back in and I was the only one laughing. Come to think of it, the hilarity seldom kicked back in after he went to sleep.
Tonight I finally got to introduce our kids to the Marx Brothers.
I have been building up to the Marx Brothers for a month or so now, teasing them with the possibility of watching a movie some time. AA, - who may not love a classic quite as much as his dad but will act like he does - jumped on the bandwagon.
So tonight when I found a Marx Brothers' double-feature on Netflix Instant, we decided to take it in.
We only watched one of the features: the 1939, "At the Circus". It was funny and even kept AA's attention throughout most of the film. Ab is like my brother-in-law, she laughs out loud at most anything . . . that made the movie doubly funny.
AA, who has something of a gift for recognition of classic trivial items, noticed a scene that he had seen parodied in a Looney Toons cartoon.
R. does not have a great appreciation for Classic Comedies, but she did stay in the same room with us - and read.
But it was a nice time.
We are doing that sort of thing far too seldom these days - being all together in one room at one time. There is a sort of continental drift that seems to occur naturally in most relationships unless they are constantly maintained. Sometimes forcing ourselves into doing those things we know we should do, can almost seem unnatural.
It takes deliberate effort sometimes to break that natural cycle of drifting apart.
Things like, eating together at a table, holding a discussion, working together to clean up the kitchen, or playing a game of Badminton or "Short & Long". . . these are the seemingly insignificant moments that we will one day hold in great value.
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