I'm going to post my sermon tomorrow. Please give feedback on whether or not its too long for this medium (I'll already have plenty of folks who will tell me whether or not it was too long for the other medium in which it'll be presented.)
Quiet day. Went to Apple day in Penrose. watched a parade. came home. watched the Buffs beat K-state. did a little study on Revelation. Will watch a little snl tonight, and snooze.
10/05/2002
10/04/2002
rah rah sis boom bah
I don't know what's up with my blog. Apparently, none of the links have posted from yesterday's entry. so this is as much of a test as anything else.
today's a big day. getting a haircut. Then, taking TWAK (the wife and kids, for future reference) to co spgs. to watch The jonah movie.
tonight, we're probably going to come back and watch the homecoming football game. Apparently florence is supposed to be pretty good. This conjures 2 prominent memories. First, my sophmore year, when I took Kelli to homecoming (who was a senior at the time). She was a cheerleader and made me wait while she got to be on TV with the Denver weatherman who was touring the state doing weather forecasts from various towns (and who, interestingly -- at least to me -- was high school classmates with my parents). Its the funniest clip, because while Larry is doing the typical banter back with the folks in the studio, you can actually see Kelli checking herself out in the picture -- making sure she looks good for all the fans across the state. I love you honey! we lost that homecoming. i think we got shut out. I was riding the bench that year. But Kelli and i smooched 3 times. it was all good.
fast forward two years. Now Kelli's pretty much out of the picture. I'm a senior, big shot. one of the captains of the team. i don't remember who we were playing. But we come storming out onto the field, to break through a paper ring. Unfortunately, one of the guys in front trips over the bottom of the ring, literally creating a "dog pile" on the other side. I managed to leap over the calamity, but looking back (literally and figuratively), I could tell that it was a harbinger of things to come. I think we lost by 30 points. I can still remember the cheerleaders laughing at us. we couldn't even whip a big piece of paper.
today's a big day. getting a haircut. Then, taking TWAK (the wife and kids, for future reference) to co spgs. to watch The jonah movie.
tonight, we're probably going to come back and watch the homecoming football game. Apparently florence is supposed to be pretty good. This conjures 2 prominent memories. First, my sophmore year, when I took Kelli to homecoming (who was a senior at the time). She was a cheerleader and made me wait while she got to be on TV with the Denver weatherman who was touring the state doing weather forecasts from various towns (and who, interestingly -- at least to me -- was high school classmates with my parents). Its the funniest clip, because while Larry is doing the typical banter back with the folks in the studio, you can actually see Kelli checking herself out in the picture -- making sure she looks good for all the fans across the state. I love you honey! we lost that homecoming. i think we got shut out. I was riding the bench that year. But Kelli and i smooched 3 times. it was all good.
fast forward two years. Now Kelli's pretty much out of the picture. I'm a senior, big shot. one of the captains of the team. i don't remember who we were playing. But we come storming out onto the field, to break through a paper ring. Unfortunately, one of the guys in front trips over the bottom of the ring, literally creating a "dog pile" on the other side. I managed to leap over the calamity, but looking back (literally and figuratively), I could tell that it was a harbinger of things to come. I think we lost by 30 points. I can still remember the cheerleaders laughing at us. we couldn't even whip a big piece of paper.
10/03/2002
the power of one
Over the past few months, there have been a series of events that God has used to deal with me. My friend and mentor, Rick Ferguson, died in a car accident in July. A month later, my closest uncle, Gene McAnally, died unexpectedly from a brain aneurysm.
First of all, I'm not trying to say that either of these events are about me, because they're not. RIck's family and my aunt are experiencing a far greater grief over their losses than I am over mine. But these events that are otherwise unconnected affect me (and Kelli) because they each have impacted my life in one way or another.
Confessionally, the events over the past few months have had more of an impact on my life than have the events of 9/11/01. I'm not trying to diminish the tragedy and horror of the WTC, but I didn't know anybody there. and 2,835 deaths. Thats an incomprehensible number to me. I try to put it into terms that I can comprehend, and I can't. It's a third of my hometown. It's 80 percent of the town in which I pastor. Nope. Doesn't help. But then, when I reduce that huge number to 1 death 2,835 times, it means something to me. My friend. My uncle. over and over and over and over 2835 times. Only then is it significant. Personal.
The nation rallied after 9/11. Yeah, right. People stuck flag in their windows for 6 months. People cheered while the US military did its best to create "Lake Afghanistan." People came to church for a few more weeks. But here we are a year and a couple of weeks later, and we are just like we were prior to that horrible day. War isn't about patriotism any more -- it's political. Church attendance is exactly the same. Flags that were shredded from whipping fervently in the wind for 180 days were never replaced.
You see, I think only a small minority of people (in relation to the demographic of the entire US) were really truly affected from 9/11. And those were the people who actually experienced a personal human loss. Whatever the exponential result of 2835 is -- that's who was changed. Why? Because they experienced loss not on a grand scale, but loss one soul at a time.
This is why I'm affected more by recent events than by the grand events. My friend and my uncle. They weren't numbers. They were people. They were smart, funny, impacting, influential, and a million other things -- but each in their own way. They were unique. Special. One of a kind. And that's why I mourn for them. I have no increasing fear of being in a tall building because of the illogical insanity of 9/11, but I'm suddenly aware that I can die any time I'm in the car, or I can have a brain aneurysm any time. The fleeting nature of life is impressed upon me because of the individual experience, not because of the collective ones.
So, I carry this stream of consciousness over to the activity of God. The Bible says that God so loves the world that he gave His only begotten son, that whoever believes in him shouldn't perish, but have everlasting life. Okay. I can't comprehend that. That's 6.254 billion people as of right now. I feel like Dr. Evil when reading that number. it might as well be 6.254 zillion gajillion. Yes, it's comforting to know that God loves the world -- but I want to know if God loves me. Or if God loves my wife. Or my children. Or my uncle. Or my friend. Or my enemies. And I find the answer. I discover that God cares about the world 1 person at a time, 6.254 billion times again and again and again. He knows my thoughts and my deeds. He knows my hurts. This means He knows my desires. He knows my goals. My ambitions. My frustrations. My struggles. He knows every potential of every potential for my life. He knows me better than I know myself. Wow. In this regard, the most profound theological truth we can come to (and I'm not the first to say this) is "Yes, Jesus loves me."
This is how much God loves me. That He gave up His son for me. I have a son. 3 years old. My boy. I don't think I could give him up for anybody. Certainly not somebody who would repeat the same offenses for which my son would be given (as I have). Why do so many want to reject the thought that God gave Jesus for us to be redeemed back to him? Because we absolutely cannot comprehend the depth of that love, the sacrifice of that love, the greatness of that love. But this is the love that God has shown the world -- one person at a time, 6.254 billion times over (and counting).
So God says this -- He expects me to love him with all my heart, all my soul, all my strength, and all my mind. This is my first love. It should be greater than my love for my wife. My children. My church. My job. My toys. My blog.
Everybody dies. Death is real and it hurts. But that's from our perspective. Because for us, death is loss. But from God's perspective, death is the sweetest gift imagineable, because it is only through death that we experience the fulness of life. I have assurance that Rick understood this, and peace that Gene did, too. Whether I know you or not, or you know me or not, I hope that today, you grasp the depth of God's love for you and respond in kind.
First of all, I'm not trying to say that either of these events are about me, because they're not. RIck's family and my aunt are experiencing a far greater grief over their losses than I am over mine. But these events that are otherwise unconnected affect me (and Kelli) because they each have impacted my life in one way or another.
Confessionally, the events over the past few months have had more of an impact on my life than have the events of 9/11/01. I'm not trying to diminish the tragedy and horror of the WTC, but I didn't know anybody there. and 2,835 deaths. Thats an incomprehensible number to me. I try to put it into terms that I can comprehend, and I can't. It's a third of my hometown. It's 80 percent of the town in which I pastor. Nope. Doesn't help. But then, when I reduce that huge number to 1 death 2,835 times, it means something to me. My friend. My uncle. over and over and over and over 2835 times. Only then is it significant. Personal.
The nation rallied after 9/11. Yeah, right. People stuck flag in their windows for 6 months. People cheered while the US military did its best to create "Lake Afghanistan." People came to church for a few more weeks. But here we are a year and a couple of weeks later, and we are just like we were prior to that horrible day. War isn't about patriotism any more -- it's political. Church attendance is exactly the same. Flags that were shredded from whipping fervently in the wind for 180 days were never replaced.
You see, I think only a small minority of people (in relation to the demographic of the entire US) were really truly affected from 9/11. And those were the people who actually experienced a personal human loss. Whatever the exponential result of 2835 is -- that's who was changed. Why? Because they experienced loss not on a grand scale, but loss one soul at a time.
This is why I'm affected more by recent events than by the grand events. My friend and my uncle. They weren't numbers. They were people. They were smart, funny, impacting, influential, and a million other things -- but each in their own way. They were unique. Special. One of a kind. And that's why I mourn for them. I have no increasing fear of being in a tall building because of the illogical insanity of 9/11, but I'm suddenly aware that I can die any time I'm in the car, or I can have a brain aneurysm any time. The fleeting nature of life is impressed upon me because of the individual experience, not because of the collective ones.
So, I carry this stream of consciousness over to the activity of God. The Bible says that God so loves the world that he gave His only begotten son, that whoever believes in him shouldn't perish, but have everlasting life. Okay. I can't comprehend that. That's 6.254 billion people as of right now. I feel like Dr. Evil when reading that number. it might as well be 6.254 zillion gajillion. Yes, it's comforting to know that God loves the world -- but I want to know if God loves me. Or if God loves my wife. Or my children. Or my uncle. Or my friend. Or my enemies. And I find the answer. I discover that God cares about the world 1 person at a time, 6.254 billion times again and again and again. He knows my thoughts and my deeds. He knows my hurts. This means He knows my desires. He knows my goals. My ambitions. My frustrations. My struggles. He knows every potential of every potential for my life. He knows me better than I know myself. Wow. In this regard, the most profound theological truth we can come to (and I'm not the first to say this) is "Yes, Jesus loves me."
This is how much God loves me. That He gave up His son for me. I have a son. 3 years old. My boy. I don't think I could give him up for anybody. Certainly not somebody who would repeat the same offenses for which my son would be given (as I have). Why do so many want to reject the thought that God gave Jesus for us to be redeemed back to him? Because we absolutely cannot comprehend the depth of that love, the sacrifice of that love, the greatness of that love. But this is the love that God has shown the world -- one person at a time, 6.254 billion times over (and counting).
So God says this -- He expects me to love him with all my heart, all my soul, all my strength, and all my mind. This is my first love. It should be greater than my love for my wife. My children. My church. My job. My toys. My blog.
Everybody dies. Death is real and it hurts. But that's from our perspective. Because for us, death is loss. But from God's perspective, death is the sweetest gift imagineable, because it is only through death that we experience the fulness of life. I have assurance that Rick understood this, and peace that Gene did, too. Whether I know you or not, or you know me or not, I hope that today, you grasp the depth of God's love for you and respond in kind.
10/02/2002
what's in a name
OK, still got a cold, but I need a break from my final prep for tonight's teaching. On "Thinking God's thoughts" -- relying heavily on Rick Ferguson's material from 1996. Excellent.
Recently did a search on web for my name, to see if this blog is coming up anywhere, and discovered that I'm a felon. I love the elderly. Really. This is not me. I have the much cooler middle name of Eugene. Why do we have middle names? I personally think mine is intended to keep me humble. Whenever I start feeling particularly egocentric, somebody just has to say, "yeah, okay, whatever, Eugene." And I'm suddenly grounded again.
I love getting "read receipts" in my email box. Not because it tells me someone has viewed my email (although that is the closest thing we get to validation in this nonconfrontational communication system). What I like is the message "Note: this Return Receipt only acknowledges that the message was
displayed on the recipient's machine. There is no guarantee that the content has been read or understood." I love that total lack of a guarantee! In fact, much of the time, I can almost guarantee that my content has not been understood! It's like the computer is saying, "Look, I didn't have any choice here. The person punching my keyboard is doing so because they had just enough room on their Sears card to buy me at 24% interest. He said he needed the computer for work, but he spends half his time playing Spider solitaire, and almost all the rest surfing the net. So, just because he opened up your email, I'm not taking any bets that he actually comprehended what you are saying. So, it's delivered, and that's the best I can do." I love technology.
Kelsi got her six month shots today. Barely a whimper. She didn't cry much either.
Got a good email from a friend that waxes philosophic on matters of change. It really has gotten me thinking. But right now I'm hungry for a Bit O Honey. So I'll comment on that later.
Recently did a search on web for my name, to see if this blog is coming up anywhere, and discovered that I'm a felon. I love the elderly. Really. This is not me. I have the much cooler middle name of Eugene. Why do we have middle names? I personally think mine is intended to keep me humble. Whenever I start feeling particularly egocentric, somebody just has to say, "yeah, okay, whatever, Eugene." And I'm suddenly grounded again.
I love getting "read receipts" in my email box. Not because it tells me someone has viewed my email (although that is the closest thing we get to validation in this nonconfrontational communication system). What I like is the message "Note: this Return Receipt only acknowledges that the message was
displayed on the recipient's machine. There is no guarantee that the content has been read or understood." I love that total lack of a guarantee! In fact, much of the time, I can almost guarantee that my content has not been understood! It's like the computer is saying, "Look, I didn't have any choice here. The person punching my keyboard is doing so because they had just enough room on their Sears card to buy me at 24% interest. He said he needed the computer for work, but he spends half his time playing Spider solitaire, and almost all the rest surfing the net. So, just because he opened up your email, I'm not taking any bets that he actually comprehended what you are saying. So, it's delivered, and that's the best I can do." I love technology.
Kelsi got her six month shots today. Barely a whimper. She didn't cry much either.
Got a good email from a friend that waxes philosophic on matters of change. It really has gotten me thinking. But right now I'm hungry for a Bit O Honey. So I'll comment on that later.
achoo
Wednesday. Kelli and I have colds. I can't remember the last time I actually had a cold. Which means by this time tomorrow my nose will be all red and chapped from spending the day sneezing. Today must be the unofficial day of season change. It was 81 degrees yesterday and and probably won't get about low 50s' today. I have been so ready for autumn, so I'm glad -- apart from the fact that I'm a whiny, sneezy baby whenever I get ill.
It's funny whenever I get sick, I turn into a giant wimp. Kelli gets sick and she plugs along bravely. I don't want to do anything. Cover myself in a heavy blanket and watch DVDs all day long.
Hey, on a totally unrelated note -- if you want to know the most important thing that has ever happened to me, go here.
Its kind of interesting how every once in a while, things will come full circle in a short time. After yesterday's blog on my Bronco shirt and "first love," I went on to a normal Tuesday. But last night, we hosted a Blue Grass concert featuring the fiddlin' Finley Family out of Oregon (actually, they just go by the "Finley Family" -- but they are quite skilled at fiddlin). And Aaron, the son (and mandolin and guitar player) began talking about the unconditional love of the Lord, and declared that I was modeling that type of love because I was willing to wear my shirt after such an embarrasing loss. Everyone laughed at me. But I still believe the Broncos will be okay. But then again, I actually believe that Brian Griese got flipped by his dog.
Well, I've gone through a half dozen kleen-ex. I'm considering legally changing my name to Drippy McSnottleton. So I'm going to sign out before I short circuit my keyboard. Come back soon, because I'm excited to share some more thoughts out of my Revelation study.
It's funny whenever I get sick, I turn into a giant wimp. Kelli gets sick and she plugs along bravely. I don't want to do anything. Cover myself in a heavy blanket and watch DVDs all day long.
Hey, on a totally unrelated note -- if you want to know the most important thing that has ever happened to me, go here.
Its kind of interesting how every once in a while, things will come full circle in a short time. After yesterday's blog on my Bronco shirt and "first love," I went on to a normal Tuesday. But last night, we hosted a Blue Grass concert featuring the fiddlin' Finley Family out of Oregon (actually, they just go by the "Finley Family" -- but they are quite skilled at fiddlin). And Aaron, the son (and mandolin and guitar player) began talking about the unconditional love of the Lord, and declared that I was modeling that type of love because I was willing to wear my shirt after such an embarrasing loss. Everyone laughed at me. But I still believe the Broncos will be okay. But then again, I actually believe that Brian Griese got flipped by his dog.
Well, I've gone through a half dozen kleen-ex. I'm considering legally changing my name to Drippy McSnottleton. So I'm going to sign out before I short circuit my keyboard. Come back soon, because I'm excited to share some more thoughts out of my Revelation study.
10/01/2002
A few random thoughts on Tuesday morning...
On television today, I was told to ask my plastic surgeon about Botox. I'm not sure how to take this. First of all, I'm a little offended that the person on TV assumes I'm so wrinkly (and ashamed of being wrinkly) that I need their product. Second, I'm surprised by the implication that we all have plastic surgeons. And yes, I have made my call, gotten my shots, and I'm drooling into a cup even as I type. But boy is my face smooth.
Disturbing term of the day....groin mustard. Heard it on Leno's "Headlines". Disturbing nightmares soon followed.
I am wearing my Bronco shirt today. And no, it's not one of the "official player Jerseys." That's definitely a pet peeve of mine. Do I really think I'll be confused for Emmitt Smith simply because I'm wearing his blue #22 jersey? Nevermind the fact that I'm white, I wouldn't run 100 yards even if I was being chased by a pack of hungry dingos because I was wearing my link sausage belt, and refuse to step on the field for less than $4 million a year (oh wait, we do have that in common). No, my shirt is an understated blue polo with a nice logo of "Thunder" over my heart -- which the Ravens mercilessly pecked out with their victory last night. Its not so bad that the Broncos lost (they could go 3-1 every month of the season and I'd be quite happy), but once again, they managed to be on the dubious side of another record.. Their guy ran back a missed field goal 108 yards -- the longest in the history of the game! How do you let that happen? Maybe they thought the guy would get winded and choose to stop half way there. Me, absolutely. but that's why I'm on the practice squad, I guess. It seems like Colorado teams are always the ones giving up the 500th homers, or most points in a game, or most lopsided defeats, or anything that has a hall-mark attachment to it. Maybe that's why everyone wants to live here. They see how benevolent our sports teams are, and figure that it must be something in the water. At least I wasn't there to watch it live, like my brother, who still had to drive home 21/2 hours away with that ugly defeat gnawing in his belly like those same dingos looking for desert.
I've been teaching through the book of Revelation on Sunday nights. It's been very intense -- but in a good way. I'm amazed at how detailed the book is -- and really, how Jewish it is. For example in the first chapter alone, I see at least fourteen Old Testament terms, allusions, or references. I'm becoming increasingly impressed on the emphasis of this book for the nation of Israel to identify Jesus as their Messiah. This upcoming Sunday, we'll be looking at the first two of the seven churches in chapter 2 -- Ephasus and Smyrna. It seems like this book is so captivating to so many people because it seems so mysterious. But its interesting to note if you read it closely, its really not as "hidden" as people like to think. For example (again) people want to debate about the stars and lampstands in chapter 1 -- what they mean, whether its literal, figurative, eschatological, or allegorical. Verse 20 says in a very straight-forward way -- the stars are the messengers and the lampstands are the churches. End of debate. The same thing is true about these "seven churches." Well, after each church, the Word says, "he who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches." So that tells me this -- there is a message to the church (since it was the one to get the letter), but there is also a message to every church ("says to the churches"), and also to every person in those churches -- including you and me ("let he who has an ear" -- I have two ears, so there must be something there for me.)
Ephasus is criticized for having left its first love. It made me think about my first love -- there were many times growing up that I thought I was in love -- Becca in middle school, Mary Beth in high school. But then when God gave me Kelli, I really understood was love was. Its taken me several years to get to this point. I'm a slow learner. And I know I still have much to learn. But this concept of "leaving your first love" is really convicting. When Kelli and I were first together, love was manifested in silly notes, cassette tapes with Brown-eyed Girl, picnics to the mountains, etc. Now, "I love you," is said by paying bills on time, getting up with Cotter in the middle of the night, taking out the trash, and remembering to turn the fan on in the bathroom. And some would want to argue that "love matures," and becomes manifested that way. I don't disagree that my love for my wife has matured, but I confess I don't want to be guilty of it becoming complacent. While expressions of love don't have to be grandiose in their presentation, they should be consistent. I'm convinced that ongoing, subtle affirmations of affection and devotion (and even passion) are appreciated and even needed by both bride and groom through the years. And while a failure to communicate that love doesn't necessarily equate a failure to love it certainly allows for a perception of this tragedy. Then I think about it in terms of God's message to me -- Am I guilty of "losing my first love for him?" Is my relationship with Him as real and exciting as when I first experienced it? Do I talk to Him as often as before? Do I trust Him as much? Do I honor Him as regularly? Or has my love "matured." Am I guilty of having my attendance and memberships serve as my "love expressions?" Have I told Him I love Him, or do I just expect him to know it? Oh, that my desire for God would magnify through my life, and would be reproduced in all my other relationships. May we never lose our first love.
9/30/2002
in the beginning...
What a day...got a crash course on HTML by putting together this page. No doubt, if I were in college, I'd be guilty of code plagiarism. I'm not trying to steal others' content, just their functionality. Isn't that all Microsoft did? Maybe I'm the next Bill Gates -- if only this total lack of computer skills wouldn't keep getting in the way.
Anyhoo, doing a little prelim work on upcoming studies, sermons. This Sunday is about the blessing of being "poor in spirit." Its a shame so many people equate this beatitidue with monetary status. I actually know many who are wealthy but they are poor in spirit (like Joe of Arimathea and Mary, Martha, & that "stand up guy" Lazarus). Conversely, I also know many financially impoverished folks who are extremely proud in their spirit. Funny how pride isn't a birthright to the upper class.
My daughter Kelsi's first tooth has broken through today. I'm pretty certain the nursing will end soon. Kelli will probably want to consider stopping, too.
Anyhoo, doing a little prelim work on upcoming studies, sermons. This Sunday is about the blessing of being "poor in spirit." Its a shame so many people equate this beatitidue with monetary status. I actually know many who are wealthy but they are poor in spirit (like Joe of Arimathea and Mary, Martha, & that "stand up guy" Lazarus). Conversely, I also know many financially impoverished folks who are extremely proud in their spirit. Funny how pride isn't a birthright to the upper class.
My daughter Kelsi's first tooth has broken through today. I'm pretty certain the nursing will end soon. Kelli will probably want to consider stopping, too.
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