Clarity amidst Chaos

2/07/2004

venti no whip double blessing latte with a splenda

via email:

THE SPARROW AT STARBUCKS
The song that silenced the cappuccino machine

by John Thomas Oaks

It was chilly in Manhattan but warm inside the Starbucks shop on 51st Street and Broadway, just a skip up from Times Square. Early November weather in New York City holds only the slightest hint of the bitter chill of late December and January, but it's enough to send the masses crowding indoors to vie for available space and warmth.

For a musician, it's the most lucrative Starbucks location in the world, I'm told, and consequently, the tips can be substantial if you play your tunes right. Apparently, we were striking all the right chords that night, because our basket was almost overflowing.

It was a fun, low-pressure gig-I was playing keyboard and singing backup for my friend who also added rhythm with an arsenal of percussion instruments. We mostly did pop songs from the '40s to the '90s with a few original tunes thrown in. During our emotional rendition of the classic, "If You Don't Know Me by Now," I noticed a lady sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from me. She was swaying to the beat and singing along.

After the tune was over, she approached me. "I apologize for singing along on that song. Did it bother you?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "We love it when the audience joins in. Would you like to sing up front on the next selection?"

To my delight, she accepted my invitation.

"You choose," I said. "What are you in the mood to sing?"

"Well. ... do you know any hymns?"

Hymns? This woman didn't know who she was dealing with. I cut my teeth on hymns. Before I was even born, I was going to church. I gave our guest singer a knowing look. "Name one."

"Oh, I don't know. There are so many good ones. You pick one."

"Okay," I replied. "How about 'His Eye is on the Sparrow'?"

My new friend was silent, her eyes averted. Then she fixed her eyes on mine again and said, "Yeah. Let's do that one."

She slowly nodded her head, put down her purse, straightened her jacket and faced the center of the shop. With my two-bar setup, she began to sing.

Why should I be discouraged?
Why should the shadows come?

The audience of coffee drinkers was transfixed. Even the gurgling noises of the cappuccino machine ceased as the employees stopped what they were doing to listen. The song rose to its conclusion.

I sing because I'm happy;
I sing because I'm free.
For His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me.

Holy moment
When the last note was sung, the applause crescendoed to a deafening roar that would have rivaled a sold-out crowd at Carnegie Hall. Embarrassed, the woman tried to shout over the din, "Oh, y'all go back to your coffee! I didn't come in here to do a concert! I just came in here to get somethin' to drink, just like you!"
But the ovation continued. I embraced my new friend. "You, my dear, have made my whole year! That was beautiful!"

"Well, it's funny that you picked that particular hymn," she said.

"Why is that?"

"Well . ..." she hesitated again, "that was my daughter's favorite song."

"Really!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she said, and then grabbed my hands. By this time, the applause had subsided and it was business as usual. "She was 16. She died of a brain tumor last week."

I said the first thing that found its way through my stunned silence.

"Are you going to be okay?"

She smiled through tear-filled eyes and squeezed my hands. "I'm gonna be okay. I've just got to keep trusting the Lord and singing his songs, and everything's gonna be just fine."

She picked up her bag, gave me her card, and then she was gone.

Was it just a coincidence that we happened to be singing in that particular coffee shop on that particular November night? Coincidence that this wonderful lady just happened to walk into that particular shop? Coincidence that of all the hymns to choose from, I just happened to pick the very hymn that was the favorite of her daughter, who had died just the week before? I refuse to believe it.

God has been arranging encounters in human history since the beginning of time, and it's no stretch for me to imagine that he could reach into a coffee shop in midtown Manhattan and turn an ordinary gig into a revival. It was a great reminder that if we keep trusting him and singing his songs, everything's gonna be okay.

The author's Web site:

2/06/2004

you say its your birthday

Happy Birthday Mr. President.

May your likeness one day grace Mount Rushmore.

name that reality tv show

And if you want to look into the mouth of the beast, go to this page that links to reality TV casting calls. There, you'll learn the important lesson that "real life" only exists in Southern California or New York City. The rest of us just live in the Land of Make Believe.

cheese

Can you spot when somebody is really baring it when they grin?

Apparently, I can 75% of the time.

Thanks Jen.

shady practices

Heidi is the new Sam.

After watching last night's episode of The Apprentice, I've determined that this program should be mandatory viewing for Christian ethics classes, as a means for educating common acceptable business practices juxtaposed against biblical standards. Understandably, some of the elements aren't ideal business models (like all the participants sharing a place in Trump Towers), but the varying assignments each week do provide adequate portrayals (at least so far) of how the world does business. Lessons so far have included:

Backstab Your Friend to Stay Alive

Sex Sells

Put Yourself First

If You Are Silent, You Must Be Guilty

It's Not Deception if the Customer is Stupid

Manipulate Your Way to the Top

The 3 C's of Business: Cussing, Crying, and Conniving

workers ketchup

Amidst the news that 112,000 new jobs were added last month, once again confirming that reports of the US economy's demise were greatly exaggerated, I decided to see if the Heinz corp., and by extension, John F Kerry, could take any credit for the rebound.

Much like U2, I still haven't found what I'm looking for, but if I were to follow the logic of the Democrats, that must mean there was never threats increased condiment production, aka Workers of Massachussets Democrats. Subsequently, I concur that my decision to request ketchup with my fries was part of a strategery to draw out the enemy to lead to a potential confession of where these WMDs may be hiding.

THIS JUST IN: No sooner that I posted, "news agency" Reuters releases the "report" that the US workforce grew by "only 112,000 workers last month." They further suggest that this "disappointing report" will "weigh on President Bush's re-election campaign." I'm sure those 112,000 people were "unhappy" that they've found "work," and are now "earning money" that will "meet needs" and "pay for goods."

also....still no WMDs, but I have found this, which is promising -- possibly even a smoking gun.

back up

The quiz is back up. Thanks for waiting. I'll post results today or tomorrow.

worst fears realized

Unfortunately, Carlie has been found dead.

My prayers and condolences to her family.

2/05/2004

at the corner of desperation and manipulation

I just read at my "real radio" web page, that authorities fear that abducted youth Carlie Brucia may be dead.

The less "real" news sources such as Fox & MSNBC haven't gone so far, only saying that the suspect is being "uncooperative."

I thought it was interesting that the Brucia family has hired a psychic, who has reported that she's still alive, but is "somewhere dark and tied up." I occasionally think we don't hold psychics to high standards anymore, especially in such instances when their predictions can be tremendously encouraging and devastatingly incorrect at all the same time.

Harkening back to recent conversations about Dru Sjodin, I was surprised to read (which I post here so you don't have to register to see the link):

GRAND FORKS, N.D. -- Grand Forks police say they hear almost daily from people who call themselves psychics -- claiming to have information on a missing University of North Dakota student's whereabouts.

Dru Sjodin, of Pequot Lakes, Minnesota has been missing since Nov. 22.

Grand Forks Police Lt. Dennis Eggebratten said the department has received more than 600 tips from those claiming to be a psychic or a visionary. He said none of the psychic leads have checked out in the Sjodin case.

A convicted sex offender from Crookston -- Alfonso Rodriguez Jr. -- is charged with kidnapping Sjodin. He is jailed in Grand Forks on $5 million bail -- and has denied any involvement in her disappearance.

Call it a hunch...a premonition, if you will...but I predict that only one name keeps coming to mind when they meditate on Dru's unfortunate situation....their own.

every now and then i fall apart

I haven't been able to talk about it until now...

...but the Atlanta 80s station has changed formats.

They've gone "all talk," bragging that they're Atlanta's only FM talk station. That's great I guess, but a bit like NBC deciding to be the only nation-wide station with cable access programs. Thanks 105.3 for saving me the strenuous work of pushing that AM/FM button when I need to hear people yammering away like their opinions matter. When I want that, I choose to read the yammering. In fact, I choose to write the yammering. It's called a blog.

Actually, I like talk radio much of the time. I even like Bob & Tom, the nationally syndicated morning show that replaced the regionally-syndicated MJ morning show. Like its predecessor, though, I have to turn the station when they start talking about weiners. If they'd just keep the comedy a little more current event-oriented, I'd appreciate it. I mean, I appreciate "boy humor," and think its eminently acceptable to laugh at a well-timed bodily emission. I just think it is a too oft-dipped-in well that, whilst its rancid waters may never run dry, its acrid savorings require little to last long.

So, for the time being, I'm without my source for Bonnie Tyler, the Human League, and Toto. Like all things, this too shall pass.

sung to the tune of crazy

A convicted murderer successfully obtained a stay of his execution by acting insane, including imitating John Wayne, Harvey Dent, and Pontius Pilate.

The pivotal word is "acting" and not "insane." Entering into rehab 14 times to (unsuccessfully?) overcome addiction does not a crazy man make. In fact, I'd argue the cognizant determination that one needs to "dry out" evidences lucidity. In such perspective, his accompanying conduct is reflective of a man desperate to avoid the gallows for just punishment meted for a violent crime.

I am mildly bemused at the concept of subpoena-ing Jesus.

Foolish Client's Attorney

suspicious

for the record

Silly? Sure. Contrived? Certainly. Absurd? Absolutely.

But don't think for a moment that a similar mindset isn't out there, because it is.

what I meant to say was

This is a translation of the previous entry:

This entry is being entered using the voice recognition tools of Microsoft Word's software. As you can tell it is far from a perfect science at this point. Apparently, its supposed to get better the more I'm willing to train the computer to learn the rhythm and intonations of my voice. That said, it's going to take some time because each leasson requires about ten minutes of work to do. So (unknown) even though it's nonfunctional at this point, I'm fairly impressed its able to pick up wors like intimations and nonfunctional and the like. I'm not very impressed --well -- I am impressed but not very surprised that it is able to understnd words like Microsoft Word.

I don't understand why it chose to start a new paragraph here.

(ha ha laughter) I guess I'll understand better as time goes on (unknown). As I read this as I recite text, I can see just how unintelligible it really is. I'm sure that as I show this to my children they will be baffled and amazed. They'll of course want to train this with their own voice which I don't foresee as happening, but I look forward to seeing the look on their faces (unknown).

After a further review, a translation will soon follow.

asphinctersayswhat?

This century the as being insured using the voice recognition tools of Microsoft words software as you can tell it is far from a perfect science at this point apparently it, so as to get better the more I?m willing to train the computer to learn the rhythm and intimations of my voice that said it?s going to take some time because each lesson requires about ten minutes of work to do so happens I even though it?s nonfunctional this point I?m free impressive even able to pick up words like Information is recognition and the like I?m not very impressed well

But not very surprising is able to easily understand words like Microsoft word that only understand why it chose the storm

You?re not against all understand better as time goes on satisfying as I read this as I recited because I can see just how unintelligible really is unsure that as I show this to my children they will be baffled enemies lives of course one to train interactive as their own voice which I don?t often as those capabilities but a look for to them unless it?s see the local on this basis from offenses to foreign after a further review a translation will soon follow

another invitation

I've offered this before, but I'm going to do so again, because I believe it to be the most important thing we have to offer.

Be one in a million.

prayer update

Just talked with Guy and Aletha is progressing OK. The therapist is getting her out of bed today and getting her to walk with a walker. She still doesn't eat like they would like her to, but that is not a real concern at this point. The blood clot continues to dissolve with medication. Guy thought by sometime next week that they might be able to transport Aletha to either St. Mary's or maybe to Craig depending on how Aletha progresses the next few days. Guy is doing OK and doesn't need anything but prayers at this point.

thanks for praying...please continue!

what goes up

inbox ha ha:

mikey's physics phunnyOne day our professor was discussing a particularly complicated concept. A pre-med student rudely interrupted to ask "Why do we have to study this stuff?"

"To save lives," the professor responded and continued with the lecture.

A few minutes later the same student spoke up again. "So, how does physics save lives?" he persisted.

"It keeps the ignoramuses out of medical school," replied the professor.

2/04/2004

this pie tastes like humble

Have you ever had one of those times when you have been going along thinking you're pretty smart, feeling like you've got a good grasp on things, only to spend a little time with someone who really is pretty smart and really does have a good grasp on things, which causes you to realize that you're really not as smart as you thought and your grasp isn't as good as you originally perceived?

Yeah.

That would describe what just happened to me.

I'm sure I'll be thankful for this.

Eventually.

you think you know...

I've made a quiz about myself. Let's see how well you know me. And read each question carefully.

axiom

JOY

Jesus
Others
Yourself

learn it.
live it.
love it.

victory

Paul 'Bear' BryantIn order to have a winner, the team must have a feeling of unity; every player must put the team first-ahead of personal glory.

I'm not exactly covering new territory when I state that the church has been called, challenged, commanded, commissioned, and congregated for the purpose of unity. God has said that it is "good and pleasant" when His children live together in unity.

It's no secret that the key to success in any team endeavor is unity. The team should have one focus, one pursuit, one agenda. When competing agendas are present, the team's success is almost inevitably sacrificed.

The healthiest organizations are those that understand their priorities and operate in unity accordingly. The organizations that struggle or even fail are the ones that are confused about why they exist and what they hope to accomplish. In this paradigm, one subset pursues a goal, and another subset pursues an equally-worthy, albeit different goal. Unfortunately, resources are divided, communication is splintered, and impact is lost.

What is the purpose of your church? Why has God brought you together as a body of believers? What has He equipped you to accomplish through His heavenly resources? Come to agreement on these matters and in unity devote yourselves to them wholeheartedly and without distraction.

The reality is, there's no such thing as a 'practice scrimmage' in the calling and direction of a church. We are in the battle for the very souls of men, women, and children. Every opportunity is life and death, and every detail ripples through eternity. If your agenda is different from the Coach's, you're an obstacle to success, not an implement for it. Set your own agenda aside and chase after the title that He's set before us. For some of you, that's going to mean starting something new -- doing something you've never done but that He's assigned specifically for you. For others, its going to mean stopping something old -- putting down something you've been doing for far too long that He never assigned to you in the first place. Either option takes faith, and your willingness to comply will say more about what you believe about God than you do about yourself or your church. Regardless of the option, the context in which it exists is servanthood.

What would the church look like if every person was really on God's agenda? What would the world look like if every church was really on God's agenda? Some day we will know. Until then, we pursue the prize by faith.

proverbs #156

If God wants you on the mission field, neither your money nor your prayers will ever prove an acceptable substitute.

proverbs #155

There is no "home" and "foreign" distinction in God's missionary vocabulary.

proverbs #154

He who holds a false doctrine, holds it first in his own thinking and then seeks it in the Bible as a second source.

step right up

The carnivals' doors have opened:

Christian #3

Vanities #72

The Bonfire should commence soon.

three good reasons

Here's an excellent article by Patrick Morley giving three reasons to disciple men.

I had the distinct honor of introducing Patrick to our state partners last week at our Orlando meeting. He spoke during one of our lunches and was encouraging and affirming. He is partnering with us to develop the newest incarnation of our leadership materials.

Some of the most significant things he said in our time together last week is (and these are all loose paraphrases):

2/03/2004

100% of the precincts reporting

Let's review:

Ketchup won 5 of 7.
Edwards won South Carolina in an "attaboy" vote.
Clark takes Oklahoma, by a whisker.
Dean averaged a little better than 10% of the vote.
Lieberman's gone.
Sharpton's just enjoying the ride until he can pretend to be relevant somewhere else.
Kucinich continues to be clearly undeniably insane.

I love Democracy.

i'm with stupid

Via WSJ BOTW, I learned that Hillary's daddy owned a silk-screening business in her childhood.

Now we know from where such pithy terms have originated, such as:

it takes a village

vast right wing conspiracy

my husband got impeached and all i got was this lousy t-shirt

Living History Book Tour '03 -- Charlotte Rocks!

Bush is a WMD!

Gore/Clinton '04

Clinton/Clark '08

Clinton's Intern Assessor

denouement +lieberman = dejoement

Tony has informed me once again, they all rolled over and one fell off.

Comment-worthy excerpts from the good Senator's noble, but futile campaign:

"I have decided tonight to end my quest for the presidency of the United States of America. Am I disappointed? Naturally. But am I proud of what I stood for in this campaign? You betcha," Lieberman told supporters in Arlington, Va.

Do I hate it when speakers ask and answer their own rhetorical questions I do? Naturally.
Am I willing to withhold my vote over this habit? You betcha.

"I offer a mainstream voice, and I still believe that is the winning voice for our party and our country," he said.

I concur that relative to his competition, he is correct on both aspects of his statement.

let me count the ways

from the inbox:

Whether a man winds up with the nest egg or a goose egg depends a lot on the kind of chick he marries.

Trouble in marriage often starts when a man gets so busy earnin' his salt that he forgets his sugar

Too many couples marry for better or for worse, but not for good.

If a man has enough "horse sense" to treat his wife like a thoroughbred, she will never be an old nag.

Judgin' from the specimens they pick for husbands, it's no wonder that brides often blush.

On anniversaries the wise husband always forgets the past...but never the present.

The bonds of matrimony are a good investment only when the interest is kept up.

Reasons why I love Kelli:

When she smiles you feel like she's giving you a hug.

She believes it is her responsibility to show her daughters how to be a lady, and her son how to recognize one.

She has the ability to talk about anything from deep theology to the Rockies' lineup.

She's liberal with her pity laughter -- giving a chuckle even when we both know what I said wasn't really that funny.

She makes me look much more handsome than I really am.

She is passionate about seeing people come to faith in Jesus as their Savior.

She always wants me to have first choice of supper servings.

She doesn't complain about being woken up in the middle of the night -- by any of us.

Her spirit is as beautiful as her countenance.

She genuinely cares what people think.

She values friendships.

She wants to see other people succeed.

She has amazing patience, and regrets those rare times she misplaces it.

She is honorably submissive.

She knows how to hold her own against worthy opponents.

She's able to discern who is and isn't a worthy opponent.

She loves 42, 'Ho!,' and 7 Up, 7 Down.

She'll watch 'guy movies' with me.

She's easily moved to tears.

Scrap books and photo albums are important to her.

She loves my family as her own.

She's willing to repeatedly question one of our children until she gets the answer accompanied by a "ma'am."

She's discerning without being judgmental.

She forgives me of my shortcomings.

She's incredibly hard-working, organized, and professional.

She lives for roller coasters, the Broncos, and cuddling.

She's my Nicole Kidman and I'm her Ewan McGregor, and we'll sing Moulin Rouge full tilt with no apologies.

She's my best friend, my wisest counsel, my most compassionate critic, and my most helpful companion.

Being in her presence causes my heart to leap, my worries to cease, and my joy to multiply.

Because her heart, her soul, her life and her future rest securely in the hands of our Savior, Jesus.

These reasons and an uncountable multitude of others can barely begin to quantify the blessing and joy of my life that is my bride, my friend, my love, my wife Kelli.

in the tradition of the nova

I'm reminded of the story about the ultimate sales failure of the Chevy Nova in Hispania because "no va" in the native tongue translates to "doesn't go."

Here are other rejected names for prospective automobile models:

The Ford Seabiscuit

The Pontiac Conundrum

The Lexus Arrhythmia

The Mercedes Zeig Heil!

The Saab Paxil

The GMC Innuit

The Chevrolet Refinancer

The Hyundaii Hara Kiri

The BMW Pretension

The Mitsubishi Miyagi

The Honda Accordian

The Renault Singe de Redditiont*

The Nissan Metrosexual

The Oldsmobile Octagenarian (with perma-blink left turn signal)

The Mercury Poisoning

The Volkswagen Dustmite

The Saturn Uranus

The Aston Martin Lazenby

The Volvo Mulva

The Hummer Saddaminator

The Peugot Heinz-Kerry

The Jaguar Wildebeast

The Cadillac Yacyacyacyac Youottaknowbynow

The Mary Todd Lincoln

The Toyota Turgidity

The Cooper V.D.

The Buick Technicolor Yawn

The Suzuki Tom Cruiser

*Surrender Monkey

planes, trains, and automobiles

I've received my travel schedule for the next several months. All I can say is 'wow.' Actually, I could probably say other things, but 'wow' seems to embody the essence of my sentiment at the moment.

On my itinerary:
March -- Road trip to Canton, Georgia (I'll come home each night).
April -- Columbus, Ohio
May -- Cochrane, Alberta, Canada
June -- Indianapolis, Indiana (SBC Convention)
July -- Open (so far!)
August -- Boston, Massachussetts
September -- Virginia (exact location yet to be determined)

There are still October and November obligations that haven't been assigned. And we just got a request for a Colorado event in August that I may receive as well (of course I'd reluctantly accept that one).

I know other people travel much more than this, and I'm not complaining about my schedule. I love to visit people, and I love to visit churches. It's just a more full schedule than I originally anticipated. Our general rule here though is that if a request comes in and we can honor it, we'll do everything we can to do so.

idol cream

Week Three efforts that rose to the top:

Ryan's day in song.

Riley's day in dogthought.

Jon's observations of a janitor's day.

Manda's day in pictures.

John's Bible's day, theoretically.

There were other good ones. I just thought these were the ones that resonated best with me.

Blog on!

around the horn

from the inbox:

SOCIAL SECURITY:Since many of us have paid into FICA for years and are now receiving a Social Security check every month -- and then finding that we are getting taxed on 85% of the money we paid to the federal government to "put away," you may be interested in the following:

Q: Which party took Social Security from an independent fund and put it in the general fund so that Congress could spend it?
A: It was Lyndon Johnson and the Democratic-controlled House and Senate.

Q: Which party put a tax on Social Security?
A: The Democratic party.

Q: Which party increased the tax on Social Security?
A: The Democratic Party with Al Gore casting the deciding vote.

Q: Which party decided to give money to immigrants?
A: That's right, immigrants moved into this country and at 65 got SSI Social Security. The Democratic Party gave that to them although they never paid a dime into it.

Then, after doing all this, the Democrats turn around and tell you the Republicans want to take your Social Security.

And the worst part about it is, people believe it!

it's no bare bosom, but still....

Lj posts ESPN's top 10 Super Bowl Commercials.

I completely agree with #1, except replace "best" with "worst." I confess that at one time in my life, I may have found this puerility humorous, or even hilarious, but then puberty hit. I will neither confirm nor deny actually partaking in activities similar to those represented in the ad, but let's just say I've learned the hard way that eyebrows can take years to regrow.

I didn't see the Parcells/Jones ad, but it made my bride laugh out loud, so it had to be good. I had an intellectual "disconnect" with the Charmin ad, simply because I refuse to describe my or anyone else's bottom as an "end zone." The fact that a person would pause to appreciate the softness of TP stuck to another person's backside is off-putting in its unsanitary implications, and further repulses me. The product is not made cuter by a cartoon bear who happens to love the product for his own ursine cleanliness issues.

Something that I never saw nor heard response of, but heard much promotion about was the gladiatrix Pepsi commercial that was to star Pink, Britney, and Beyonce(?). Did that one air, or was it successful like a pregnant polevaulter?

Fearless prediction: J. Jackson (and I don't mean Jesse or Jermaine) will star in an ad in next year's campaign that will give a *winkwinknudgenudge* to this year's controversy. Possibly for Victoria's Secret. Or for a glue product.

janet jackson awards

The inaugural Janet Jackson awards have been announced in commemoration of boobs exposed during or after significant sporting events.

Awards were given yesterday in three different categories. Winner of the Worst Body Art category was the as yet publicly unidentified streaker who delayed the kick-off of the second half of Sunday's Super Bowl. The moron initially posed as a referee before stripping down to a g-string and began dancing spastically, revealing a whole lotta flesh and some illegible advertising on his backside. He gave flight when slow-witted security personnel eventually realized that this is unusual behavior for a ref, even one of the NFL's caliber and sought to cover the exposed boob. The drama ended spectacularly when New England Patriot Linebacker Matt Chatham knocked the idiot into the third row with a well-placed shoulder to the head.

A second Janet Jackson was awarded to another as yet unidentified Boston man in the category of "Worst Attempt at Crowd Control." The boob was arrested for driving the wrong way down a street filled with Super Bowl victory revelers, running over and injuring three of them, two seriously.

Additional awards were unsuccessfully attempted to be awarded to several Patriot fans, boobs who were exposed in the Worst Rendition of "This Little Light of Mine" category, for igniting bonfires at landmarks, turning over cars, and other similar brainless activities. The recipients' trophies are being held at the Boston Municipal Police Headquarters and are available for pick-up at the recipients' convenience.

The first Janet Jackson (known as "a Booby" in the industry) was awarded for its namesake for shamelessly exposing her breast as part of Super Bowl XXXVIII's half-time entertainment show, then disingenuously attempting to explain it away as an accident. It's estimated that a potential US audience of 90 million viewers were exposed to the exposure.

2/02/2004

a day in the life of haiku paparazzi

L. DiCaprio
Catch me if you can, man
Caught you picking nose

Oprah turned fifty
That's not like two 25s
O! AARP!

Sarah Jessica
Soon to see life's not about
Sex, nor the city

Blonde Charlize Theron
Got dumpy as the "Monster"
Shops at TJ Maxx

Kiwi director
Peter Jackson stands alone
Will he ever bathe?

Uma vows to Kill Bill
First she must go buy gloves to
Cover her huge hands

Mel Gibson's Passion?
Playing "Gotchyer ears Jesus!"
He hears no evil

Jenny Aniston
Likes to go to hair salon
Whoa! Stop the presses

Brad Pitt thanks hero
The one who showed him the ropes --
B. McAnally

Gwyneth's womb blossoms
She will name him "Ben" or "Fleck"
Suuuure she's over him.

Pam Anderson
VIP, Baywatch, Playboy
Fifteen minutes gone

David and Courtney
Cox-Arquette or Arquette-Cox?
Don't know or don't care?

Letterman's a dad
So is Clint, Jack, Paul and Mike
Wow! Viagra works!

Spiderman sequel
Star Tobey McGuire oops!
Wears Hulk Underoos

J-lo's beau no show
Forgoes Soul-Glow Expo dough
no mo' info, yo!

Jacko sis bares boob
Might as well insert sagging
Career joke right here

Former Mouseketeers
Tend to pursue skankiness
All Mothers beware!

A big day is done!
Photos will buy my new car
or land me in jail

this was part of the blogger idol writing project. Click on the link to see how others are spending their day.

sung to the tune of let's wait a while

In just a quick hop around the blogosphere, Christ-follower's corner, I've seen that many of the brethren, like myself, didn't see Janet's (or Justin's or MTV's, or whoever's) lack of control. However, I would assume that there are many, like myself, who were exposed to the nasty situation when her escapade was re-aired on the morning news today. Graciously, at least her chest was digitized in the re-airing.

Today, surely nobody is asking Janet, "what have you done for me lately?" Although she may be asking herself, "What'll I do?"

In possibly the most interesting of the post-whoops now-moment discussion, Thinklings has rounded up a few dozen responses and observations about Ms. Jackson's body that loves you. In these comments, you might find it interesting, as did I, the number of bloggers who are able to discuss in great detail the intentionality of the pop diva, based upon close examination of her anatomy and its accessorizing regalia, apparently and obviously easily available on this WWW.

I'm not judging anyone...I promise. I just want to encourage you men to resist the temptation to hop on over to a site...even one that is normally credible for its news, for a quick glance. Don't do something that would make you the real boob here, by justi-fying yourself for going somewhere you don't need to go, for reasons that should be avoided. You're better than that. Really.

And despite her possible/probable lack of judgment, so is she.

a passion-ate rebuttal

I worshipped on Sunday with a fellow who started talking about Mel's new movie, and said he, as an expert on Roman Catholicism (his words, not mine), couldn't endorse it to evangelicals, because it contained an overwhelming amount of Roman Catholic mysticism as its content, including the presentation of Mary as co-redemptress and Jesus being rescued from a fall (literal, not figurative, from what I could tell) by a demoniacal spirit.

Those of you who have seen it, what say you?

we're goin' to dollywood

My pastor is being commissioned this Saturday by the North American Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention as a Nehemiah Project church planter. We're making the 170 mile trip to experience his commissioning and see the all that that can be seen in an eight-to-ten hour period.

you're in good hands

via email...and note that this is from a woman who, when we first met, was antisocial, had a fear of crowds, and was hate-filled due to a life marked by abuse, divorce, isolation, and abandonment. Through an faith encounter with Jesus of Nazareth, she is fully engaged in life, at peace with others, and is hope-filled due to a life now marked by restoration, redemption, forgiveness, and fellowship.

A basketball in my hands is worth about $19.
A basketball in Michael Jordan's hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A baseball in my hands is worth about $6.
A baseball in Mark McGuire's hands is worth $19 million.
It depends on whose hands it's in.

A tennis racket is useless in my hands.
A tennis racket in Venus Williams' hands is a championship winning.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A rod in my hands will keep away a wild animal.
A rod in Moses' hands will part the mighty sea.
It depends whose hands it's in.

A sling shot in my hands is a kid's toy
A sling shot in David's hand is a mighty weapon.
It depends whose hands it's in.

Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands is a couple of fish sandwiches.
Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in God's hands will feed thousands.
It depends whose hands it's in.

Nails in my hands might produce a birdhouse.
Nails in Jesus Christ's hands will produce salvation for the entire world.
It depends whose hands it's in.

As you see, it now depends whose hands it's in.
So put your concerns, your worries, your fears, your hopes, your dreams,
Your families and your relationships in God's hands because...
It depends whose hands it's in.

snow day

from the email:

Norman and his blonde wife live in Prince George. One winter morning while listening to the radio, they hear the announcer say, "We are going to have 3 to 4 inches of snow today. You must park your car on the even-numbered side of the street so the snowplow can get through."

Norman's wife goes out and moves her car.

A week later while they are eating breakfast, the radio announcer says, "We are expecting 4 to 5 inches of snow today. You must park your car on the odd-numbered side of the street so the snowplow can get through."

Norman's wife goes out and moves her car again.

The next week they are having breakfast again. The radio announcer begins, "We are expecting 10 to 12 inches of snow today. You must park--," but then the power goes out.

Norman's wife says, "Honey, I don't know what to do!"

Norman says, "Why don't you just leave it in the garage this time?"

did I just see a boob on cbs?

I'm referring of course to the executive who is responsible for the decision to hand a book of matches to the pyromaniacs at MTV, entrusting them with the production of the explosive half-time show of the biggest sporting event in the world.

Thanfkully, I didn't see Janet's Jackson's "Do you feel a draft in here?" moment. I only read about it on Jen's blog. I'm relieved because my two oldest children sat on either side of me and had been watching the "entertainment" together. That is, until a flag-draped Kid Rock came out screaming as if a herd of angry carnivorous boweevils had embedded themselves in his cranium just as he came rushing onstage. I asked Cotter, "what do you think about that?"

"It's cool, I guess," he said. "But he sure seems angry about tearing his flag."

That's when we turned the channel.

interesting

2004 presidential predictions..updated regularly.

thanks to uncle sam's cabin for the link.

My prediction: this site will gain increasing traffic as November approaches (the election one, that is -- I don't know enough about Uncle Sam's work to make any assumptions there).

On a related note, maybe, this humble blog was named in a recent article at The Blogging on the President: 2004, regarding the belly-button nature of blogs.

Apparently, along with many of my friends and cohorts listed in my blogrolls, I'm an innie.

Now, that may be an over-simplified interpretation of the data, complete with a bell curve, but that's the gist of it.

This would explain all the lint that's been gathering.

2/01/2004

bowling for memories

We had a very pleasant evening. We accepted an invitation over to our pastor's home, where we were surprised to see that there was some sort of football game garnering widespread attention. We were only able to stay through the first quarter because of school preparations for Kaylyn. While we were there, though, the party welcomed the presence of the host's parents, who happen to be the governor and 1st lady of the state of Georgia.

Our three children, who aren't scheduled to begin their protocol classes until next fall, immediately flocked around the man who looked a bit liked their Papa (my dad). It was entirely surreal to watch them play catch with the governor, and he was entirely in his element, just a man who loves children. I asked him if he had a rooting interest in the game, thinking that maybe he had an interesting story of a friendly wager between his counterparts in North Carolina and Massachussetts. "Yes," he said, "I'm rooting for Atlanta."

So it turns out, he's just a fan in denial just like me.

We came home and watched the rest of the game. Cotter stayed up past his bed time, but did devise the novel concept of rooting for whichever team happened to be in the lead at the time. He just wanted to make sure he didn't end the season disappointed. Hey, I can hop on to that ride. Truly, a phenomenal game, apart from a bad half-time show (from what I saw of it), a bunch of bad LCD*-humor commercials, and the fact that my Broncos weren't scoring that winning field goal, much less even in the game.

Huh....

....turns out that I am disappointed after all.

*lowest common denominator; i.e., ignited horse flatulence, crotch-biting dogs, et al..

mama, don't let your babies grow up to be hank, jr.

Cotter: Daddy?
Me: Yes, son
Cotter: Are you ready for the Super Bowl?

1/31/2004

freedom blogger idol posts

pressed -- the fallacy of freedom
ian -- the fact of freedom
life being beautiful -- the foolishness of freedom

good job bloggers...lots of good reads...many good insights to freedom.

there and back again, sponsored by delta

I awoke this morning at 4:15 AM with a splitting headache. I forgot to bring anything with me, so I went down to the front desk where I was charged 94 cents for two Bayer caplets that did nothing except get stuck in my throat.. Nothing was relieving the pain (which now that I think about it wasn't as much "splitting" as it was "pounding" as if my cranial coconut was being grasped by an island primate, repeatedly struck against a sharp rock in an attempt to split it open and find its meaty contents, thus satiating its monkey-sized appetite and convincing a small band of researchers that the creature was evidencing its evolutionary origins of problem solving and implement utilization....but I digress).

I decided a bite of breakfast might help allay the pain. I was correct. Technically.

Something in the breakfast caused an allergic reaction, which, by the time I arrived at the Orlando International Airport resulted in a runny nose, a closing throat, repeated sneezing, watery eyes, swelling lips, and a dry tongue. I looked a bit suspicious, but I was simply in need of pseudoephedrine.

Which I soon found and was pushing between my swollen lips before I had paid the necessary extortionist's fees common in airport shops. By this time, the headache no longer concerned me. "Do you want to buy water?" the worried clerk asked.

"no...time...." I urked out.

We were delayed by twenty minutes because the ground crew forgot to do the security sweep. This is what the flight attendant said to me and my next door neighbor, since we were in the main door bulkhead/confessional booth. This added time had allowed me to progress toward normal biological operations, but I still thought I might have wanted to have remained blissfully ignorant of the nature of the delay. Now that I was aware, I began to wonder what else they might have forgotten. It's kind of like when the captain gets on the mic and says, "we've got a small team of engineers working on a small mechanical 'thing,' in the back. It's absolutely vital, but no big deal. We'll tell you when its ready." I'd rather they not just say anything and let me assume the flight crew is simply reviewing their extensive game plan on how to make this the most wonderfully spectacular flight ever so I don't instead take the mental journey through a highlight reel of every airline disaster movie starring Robert Stack, Ernest Borgnine, Burgess Meredeth and/or Shelley Winters that I saw in the late 1970s.

The flight went fine, with my inevitable slumber between take-off and touchdown. We sat on the tarmac in Atlanta for 15 minutes because Traffic Control Terminal Party Seat Planners gave away our seat at the gate because we were behind schedule.

The guy who sat next to me, who I can declare with a certain amount of confidence was the John McNair mentioned in this article here, was totally stressed out because the delays were certain to make him miss a connecting flight that would later connect to a flight to Lake Tahoe for a ski trip with friends. I tried to be comforting, compassionate, and encouraging. In the end, though, I fell back asleep.

My family was waiting for me at the airport. There's nothing quite like having your children run at you with unbridled joy. Kelli was happy too, but her joy was bridled by the fact that she had already extracted my luggage from the regurgitator.

It's nice to be home. Especially after the two hour nap to sleep off the excess pseudoephedrine. Of course, the antihistimine has completely dehydrated me, so I feel like I could give an alpaca a run for its money with the wooly saliva being spun in my mouth. But I'm home, and that's what matters.

bush compassionate conservative hypocrisy

from e-thepeople.org via newsmax:

Bush cost me my job, my kids and my houses

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak my mind. I lost my job this past year. When Clinton was president I was secure and prosperous, but in the last year, we had to close our operations. We simply could not compete with foreign labor. This foreign labor worked for low pay under very bad conditions.

They worked very long shifts, and many even died on the job.

This competition could hardly be called "fair." I was forced out of the place where I had worked for 34 years.

Not a single government program was there to help me.

How can Bush call himself "compassionate?" Far worse, I lost two of my sons in Bush's evil war in Iraq. They gave their lives for their country, and for what? So that Bush's oil buddies can get rich. My pain of losing my sons is indescribable.

While it is trivial next to the loss of my sons, I regret to say that I also lost my home. I simply have nothing left. How can Bush call himself a Christian when he neglects people like me? I am a senior citizen with various medical problems. I'm not in a position where I can begin a new career. I was reduced to the point where I had to live in a hole in a ground, all because of President Bush.

And when the authorities found me there, did they have any compassion for my misfortune and ailments? No, I was arrested. Mr. Bush, I dare you to look me in the face and tell me you are a compassionate man! I dare you to look me in the face and tell me you are a Christian. If I had any money left, I would donate it to the Democrat Party.

If Al Gore had been elected in 2000 I would still have a job, a home, and most importantly, my dear sons!

Regards,

Saddam Hussein

1/30/2004

packing it in

We made our excursion to Universal Downtown tonight. We walked in the rain over to the Hard Rock Cafe. Five Baptists Who Couldn't Have Been More Out Of Place. Actually we went at the discretion of boss³ and it was a good time. There was a big cheerleading competition that will take place there tomorrow, so the place was packed with teenage girls. At one point, there was a dramatic interpretation of Bring It On, as two squads opposed one another for an in-your-face impromptu competition. Team One, AKA "The White Girls" did a peppy little cheer evocative of the whole "we got spirit yes we do, we got spirit how 'bout you?!??!" thing that was popular when I was a youth.

Then, they were answered by Team Two, AKA, "The Girls with Rhythym." For a moment they stood there incredulously, as if to say with hand in the air, "nuh-uh you di-unt." Then, spontaenously, they erupted into this stomping, clapping, slapping, shouting cheer that momentarily made me think that even I could have stood and shook my groove thing.

Don't worry. I didn't. I'm a Baptist, remember?

It was all very entertaining. But it was loud. So loud, in fact, that one of my dinnermates at one point actually plugged his ears and scrunched his face in such a grimace that I feared for his very life. At one point, the restaurant crew began dancing to YMCA, and encouraged us all to join in. I somehow don't think it would have been entirely appropriate to have a quintent of denominational servants acting as the caboose of a Groove Train engined by Hard Rock Gals and linked by cheerleaders. We decided that it was time for us to call it a night.

We head for the airport at 7 AM -- I'm sure I'll sleep until I touch down again in Atlanta. It's been as intense of a trip as I've been on since beginning my work here. It's been an awesome experience to be a part of it. Cool stuff happened today, I'll write of it soon.

looking in to this one

The friend I mentioned a while back as a finalist in the MoveOn.org "I hate the President" campaign has sent an email that CBS is "censoring" the leftist political organization by refusing to air the winning ad from the competition.

Here's MoveOn's position on the issue, which I haven't reviewed closely.

I totally oppose censorship, even (especially) if it's designs are to protect a president I support (despite his recent propensity to spend taxpayer money like Paris Hilton trying to shop her way out of a video scandal-induced depression).

Is it censorship, or merely CBS's right to make a business decision to avoid controversy?

I really don't know, I'm asking.

i did this before crossing

I added look both ways to the blogroll...fun reading, good links...particularly the last two top tens:

10 ways Bush can lose

10 answers for anything

why are all the cool kids jumping off the cliff?

So much for my big plans of taking it easy.

Every one is convening in the lobby to go eat overpriced food at downtown Disney or somewhere like that.

Don't worry, we won't tell anyone we're Baptist.

I could have said "I'm just going to stay in," but....

...I crumbled. The risk of being stigmatized as an antisocial, couple with the lure of a $12 cheeseburger proved to be kryptonite to my plans of solace.

ask me how I feel

When I woke up today, I felt a bit like this:

I'm not ill...just been proverbially burning the proverbial candle at the proverbial both ends, proverbially speaking.

After some great sessions today (really, I mean that) where it was a good thing I wore my teflon underwear (don't ask, really), I feel a bit more like this:*

I doubt my evening plans include an outward excursion.

updates and new requests

From yesterday's needs:

Aletha is conscious and moving her limbs. She is off the ventilator and will probably not need surgery. Guy should be getting out of the hospital today. His memory is much better.

And new needs:
Randy's father passed away yesterday.
Talon left Baghdad yesterday in a convoy to Kuwait.
Terry was admitted to the hospital with chest pains.

They, like I, certainly appreciate your prayers on their behalf.

oh...this is what the F stand for

Foolish.

Senator John F Kerry has never found a position that he didn't like, oft flipping then flopping on just about any given issue.

Yet, there is, by his own account, one issue that he has remained remarkably consistent. It is the one subject that "he refuses to play games with," as compared presumably with, say, the apparently frivolity-worthy topic of war in Iraq. That very serious matter, by standard of comparison, is his unflinching, unwavering support of the war waged against the unborn.

"I'm the only candidate running for president who hasn't played games, fudged around,'' Kerry said of his pro-abortion position.

How brave.

bad tv

Doing a little editing work before my first conference begins at 10:45.

The rap artist Twista is on Regis & Kelly. Morning talkshow TV is a genre I rarely have the opportunity to experience, but this performer on this show certainly seems like a mismatch.

Yet, the 146 women in the audience (and I'm assuming that its 146 women because someone earlier was told to pick a number between 1 and 146 for an audience prize winner, and because certainly no man chooses to sit in on this for an hour...oh wait, I just did....nevermind about that last part) all cheered like crazy when he finished his song.

Apparently, Twista (I'm guessing this isn't the name given by his momma) is known for his machine-gun style rap. While he was certainly impressive, his presentation was yet another alarming revelation that I am indeed turning in to my own father.

< grumpy old man>"You call that music? Back in my day, you could actually understand what the singers were saying." < /grumpy old man>

1/29/2004

i'm so pathetic

Just a few hours after I share how I was prideful over the editing thing, we "unveil" this resource for our partners doing the work in the state organizations. As a unrelated presentation goes on, boss³ leans over to me and points out a glaring typo. That I had missed.

Minutes later, boss² whispers and points in the book to boss³. I look and see the addition of a large font period that should have been ~~their~~ there in a chapter subhead. Oops.

My thoughts: I am so glad my name isn't on this!

I have so many lessons to learn....but you'll first need to excuse me, this log poking me in the eye is really painful.

and another

Two dear friends from Colorado were in a moped bike accident in Mexico, where they were vacationing with other friends. They were both emergency air-lifted to San Antonio where they can be treated for their injuries.

Aletha is in a medically-induced coma for head injuries.
Wayne has a broken collarbone and has suffered amnesia from a severe concussion.

Thank you for your prayers.

give the kid a buzz

From my email:

Please pray for Joe William Sheffield--his mother is a teacher in the school system in Tifton, Georgia. A client of mine at the bank came by and asked me to pray for a little boy in the First Baptist Church in Tifton (9 years old.) He has been diagnosed with cancer and began his Chemo on Christmas Eve. When you pray for this child, call this number 1-877-546-0248. Listen to the recording and input number 733#. What happens is this child wears the beeper and every time it vibrates he knows somewhere someone is lifting him up in prayer!

I did pray for Joe William. And I called the number and it is legitimate. Thanks.

apathy bowl xxxviii

I actually had to be reminded that Carolina is one of the teams up for the Big Enchilada.

I have never been less interested in a Super Bowl in my life.

egomaniacs anonymous

I, just like you, suffer from the character flaw of pride.

I want to be the man who boasts only in my Savior, but from time to time, I find desires of self-promotion getting in the way.

Ken Blanchard, of Lead like Jesus and One Minute Manager fame, suggests we ought to develop an egomaniacs anonymous network where we can start every meeting with:

"Hi, my name is (your name), and I am an egomaniac."

I see much wisdom in this. I need to do this because I need to be periodically reminded that this life is not about me. And when I make it about me, I foolishly take attention away from who really deserves the focus.

So...

Hi. My name is Bryan, and I am an egomaniac.

This is where y'all say together, "Hello Bryan."

We recently had a discipleship resource come from the printer's. I wasn't on the team when the project was initiated, but just before it was sent to the printer's, I was asked to give it a once-over, and found several areas that required attention. When the product was unveiled, my name was nowhere to be found in the editing credits, which disappointed me. My happiness should be that we put out a better resource, and it is. But I'm upset that I was upset that I wasn't acknowledged in the credits that nobody but editors read. I have nothing but selfish reasons for having wanted to be listed, and I'm ashamed of myself for the attitude of my heart over the matter. Thirteen little missing letters, in 7-point font, with a black typeface that seems aptly representative of the mark of sin. I'm so very thankful and humbled that the editor of my life uses a pen dipped in an inkwell of His own blood, spilt for the purpose of blotting out my transgressions.

This is where you let me sit down and you take your turn at the cathartic process of re-aligning yourself with the Father by sharing with the group.

1/28/2004

dean trippi's up; neel's for a prayer

Amidst a clarion call of "Dead Man Walking," Dr. Deanmento replaces his "I'm an outsider" campaign's manager with a lobbyist insider.

Is the taste of desperation as bitter and gagging as it appears?

BTW, did anyone else catch the Daily Show interview Dean did with John Stewart? Give the good doc his due...he earned points for those of us who respect self deprecation over self aggrandization (unlike Kerry).

In a bold move orchestrated by his new campaign manager, Dean challenges someone from the crowd at today's rally to come and "pull his finger" for a sound byte planned to take attention off of last week's "YEAARRGH" fiasco.

One more question....It's becoming fairly evident that the Mass. senator is Kerry-ing on toward a likely victory. How is this going to play out that the one guy that nobody endorsed at first is going to be their bannerman? The outwardly liberal wackos of the "Don't mind the freezing weather, our globe is warming to dangerous extremes" camp led by Counselor Gore all pitched tents with Dean-o. The party's Clintonistas all seemed to align with Clark. Now both are finding themselves in the Kerry's photo-op soup line ready to take a ladleful of Boston crow chowder. Surely Republicans can exploit this, right? And by "right" I mean "duh?!?"

One last note. "Joementum" appears to be coming to a halt. He sadly bragged that he was in a "statistical tie" for third place following the NH primary. He lost 4th place by 7,000 votes. Note: "Statiscal ties" apply only to polls taken prior to actual elections where audiences are sampled from the larger pool. There is no larger pool in NH, Sen. Lieberman. You lost. It's over. Go home. I'll respect you more for it. < homer >Joh!< /homer >

baptizing the ferris wheel

The second Christian Carnival is fresh off the e-press. Take a few and read a few.

call me captain narcolepsy

I am blogging from my 7th floor room at the Renaissance Hotel in Orlando, Florida, the place where, as Cotter told Kelsi every time we mentioned this trip, "the geese live in the winter." At least I think he said "geese," and not some derogatory slur for the geriatics snowbirds.

My flight was wonderful. I describe any flight as wonderful if I'm able to fall asleep shortly before take off and not wake up until the attendant is telling me to lock my chair in the upright position, and wipe the drool from my chin, by the way.

We spent the day setting up. Tomorrow is a day filled with conferences, interrupted by periodic editing for a looming deadline. Who knew the life of an editor could be so.....exciting?!?

mapquest

says the same thing as before, only differently.

create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.

Thanks Jen...who I think owes Arkansas a bit of an explanation.

blogger idol 2

The main difference between Blogger Idol and American Idol is that Blogger Idol doesn't yet offer the first three days of really bad offerings. No blog equivalents to "Hung," "Scat Lady" or that freaky dude from last year who gave me nightmares with his Madonna interpretation.

Y'all have been very nice to me in my efforts to communicate thematic interpretations, and your compliments are very encouraging to me and I appreciate it.

I've yet to read all the offerings on Freedom, but I really liked the succinct presentation of Superblessed. Unfortunately, there is no permalink, but it's easy enough to find.

Blog on!

who needs friends?

who's up for a game of speed?

1/27/2004

kerry on my wayward son

So "the Ketchup Kid" won again.

Wow...that's really interessssssssssssssssssssszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

i want tuna i want liver meow mix meow mix please deliver

Okay, the proverbial cat is out of the proverbial bag...

....here kitty kitty kitty....

I'm soon making the leap off Blogspot. Christopher, who has already earned top-line perpetual permalink gratuities for his efforts, is assisting me in the transition.

I need your opinion on an essential matter, and to get your informed opinion, you need information.

I'm relocating the blog to a my own domain which, drumroll please, is....www.twosents.net. The blog will be the "official" communication of a new ministry development by the same name which focuses on discipleship and communication. It is based on the addage of "giving your two cents," my own slogan of "giving away spare change of common sense," and most important, the Scriptural encouragement of John 20:21 where Jesus said, "As the Father sent Me, so I send you." It will embrace the concepts of evangelism, discipleship, fellowship, ministry, and worship with an emphasis on mentoring, relationship-building, transparency, servanthood, and churchmanship.

So, with that in mind, I'm facing a decision to make, and I'd appreciate your input and wisdom in helping me to do so.

The question is thus: Do I keep the blog's name Clarity Amidst Chaos, or do I change it to something else? Other Options So Far:

Two Sents.Net
Two Sents Worth
Two Sents More
Spare Change
Two-Penny Thoughts
Heads or Tails
Call it in the Air
Flip for It

Please, give me your two cents in the comments...And if you have something better, don't be miserly...share it with me.

Thanks!

Oh, and while the cat has left the pillowcase, there are still a couple of lingering furballs tucked away...keep watching for further announcements in the near future!

1/26/2004

you may take our lives, but you'll never take our...

FREEEDOM!

***

As the children and I waited for Kelli to bridge the horizon that was the airport escalator leading up to baggage claim, I felt a bit like William Wallace restraining his spear-bearing men as England's calvary came bearing upon them....

holllld....

hhooollllld...

hhoOoOOOOlllD......

HHOOOOLLLD.....

Then Kelli's beautiful, smiling face appeared.

NOW!

My three small children broke across the "Do not pass" line and lunged at Kelli like her they were miniature Scottish warriors and her legs were twin Englishmen, soon to be subdued by vice-like hugs of love and longing. The mass of travellers standing between them and Kelli didn't stand a chance.

By allowing them to charge, I had dropped the invisible barrier keeping them from accomplishing the only thing that mattered to them. They, like Wallace's marauders, were free to pursue the desires of their heart to fulfill the very purpose for which they were created. Wallace's army's purpose was to radically and violently express their love for their country. My children's only purpose was to radically and joyfully express the love they had been holding a week to the one who loved them first.

You could almost hear the bagpipes playing over the airport PA system.

Oh, that we would learn from children.

Ask one hundred people what freedom means, and ninety-nine of them will tell you something that looks like, sounds like, or maybe even feels like freedom, but really isn't. And if there is anything that has mastered the ability to deceive the "duck test," it's the wolf of carnal bondage wearing the lambskin of freedom.

Contrary to popular opinion, freedom isn't being unfettered from responsibility. It isn't release from consequence or accountability. It isn't entitlement, license, or absolution. People all over show their total incomprehension of freedom by their perpetual abuse of it, as well as for settling for a myriad of experiences and states-of-being that are freedom-ish, but in and of themselves not genuine freedom.

I submit that one will never...ever...experience freedom until and unless they have been unshackled from that which holds them in bondage expressly so that they may be free to pursue the very reason they were created. If the person who has been unshackled instead chases a different quarry, they unfortunately will capture only another oppressor, another enslaver.

So to understand freedom, one must understand why he has been created. If I mistakenly believe that I was created to enjoy the sensuous pleasures of life, I will pursue them. Subsequently, I will be enslaved by that which I think makes me free, causing me to a prison of sensous torture. If I believe I was created to fulfill the consuming appetite of vanity, then I will be shackled poolside, wasting away my life gazing in Narcissisine puddles that appear much deeper than they actually be. As a humble fool once said, "I gave my heart to know knowledge and madness and folly. I now perceive that I was grasping at the wind."

Freedom is not defined simply by what you have been freed from, but also what you have been freed for. And just like my own children, I have been created to love the one who loved me first. If (and when) If I chase my loving Creator, only then am I free. If I chase any other purpose in life, then no matter how free I may feel, I'm really living under bondage.

Here's the fun...and funky...part of being set free by loving your Creator. We experience and express this freedom by...you gotta be kidding me...being in bondage to Him. The only way to experience true freedom, is by doing what the Creator has called you to do, exactly as He called you to do it, for as long as He called you to do it.

And nothing else.

Now we're beginning to see a paradox isn't a set of MD twins, no?

Compounding the simplicity of it all is that you do not earn God's love by what you do, you are empowered, enabled, equipped to do God's will because of His love. You do not "do" because of who you hope to be, you "do" because of who He promised that you already are. "Doing" is the expression of your freedom. By refusing to "do" as freedom's manifestation, you demonstrate only an ongoing bondage of self-incarceration.

Do not fear, the yoke of the Master is light. Much lighter, in fact, than the one from which you have previously been freed.

Man's joy is complete only when he is free to accomplish that for which he was created. Man is only free when he is worshipping God with every breath, every thought, every step, every deed of his life.

this entry has been a contribution to livingroom's blogger idol project. click here for the other fine entries.

bit in the tail

ooh...Miller did chip in at the end with a Porky Porcine "Thats-All-Folks"-type minirantita opining about abandoning the space program. Alas, as soon as I blinked, it was over.

Regardless of whether or not you agree with the position, the palate-cleansing of acidity left me only feeling like it was much too little, much too late.

i can't taste my light beer!

The very placid introduction of Dennis Miller on tonight's CNBC reminded me of the currently-running ad campaign by the beer company that shares his name. All the things that you may have loved about either product are suddenly nowhere to be found.*

He started off his program and basically said, "Hello. Remember me as the smart aleck with the sharp wit and sharper tongue? Well, forget about that because I'm here to listen."

Okaaaayy Stuart Smalley, you lost me at "hello."

And then he introduced Arnold Guhvahnatah, and quickly put me to sleep with a Paxil-sponsored conversation about Maria's domestic agenda.

My own lovely bride wiped the snooze drool from my slackened jaw, gently shook me awake, and turned the channel.

There's a decent chance I'll stop by again on another night, but only if when I get there, I hear the smarmy acerbic tone that I've grown to appreciate. A docile Dennis is as appealing to me as, say, a tall glass of warmed-over Miller Lite.

I've got my downstairs TV tuned back in to channel 47, but only because the rerun to The Apprentice is on deck. And the three most wonderful words are promised to be spoken by Trump:

"Sam, you're fired."

*This statement is not to be construed as an admission or endorsement of drinking Miller Lite Beer.

beautiful

Kelsi, five weeks shy of her second year, is enjoying a thrilling few moments waving around a lighted flashlight, and gleefully shrieking, as she point to the cast light upon the wall, the ceiling, my face:

LOOK DADDY, LOOK! LIGHT!

I take so many little things for granted.

fightin' the system like one of two modern day robin hoods

You are Luke Duke. You are sensible and charming.
You rarely get to drive, but you are okay with
that. You are hard-working and honest.

What Dukes of Hazzard Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I'm okay with this, other than the fact that I drive.

Always.

Thanks to TruePravda

as a matter of fact, i am interested

i've added Interested-Participant to the blogroll.

And, as always, if you have added me to yours, please let me know. I'd certainly appreciate the opportunity to reciprocate.

prayer request

Please remember Bob Miller in prayer today, for testing regarding his impending heart transplant.

muchos gracias.

more passion

Kyle, my local source for anything related to The Passion of the Christ, supplied me with this:

Paul HarveyI really did not know what to expect. I was thrilled to have been invited to a private viewing of Mel Gibson's film "The Passion," but I had also read all the cautious articles and spin. I grew up in a Jewish town and owe much of my own faith journey to the influence. I have a life long, deeply held aversion to anything that might even indirectly encourage any form of anti-Semitic thought, language or actions.

I arrived at the private viewing for "The Passion", held in Washington DC and greeted some familiar faces. The environment was typically Washingtonian, with people greeting you with a smile but seeming to look beyond you, having an agenda beyond the words. The film was very briefly introduced, without fanfare, and then the room darkened.

From the gripping opening scene in the Garden of Gethsemane, to the very human and tender portrayal of the earthly ministry of Jesus, through the betrayal, the arrest, the scourging, the way of the cross, the encounter with the thieves, the surrender on the Cross, until the final scene in the empty tomb, this was not simply a movie; it was an encounter, unlike anything I have ever experienced. In addition to being a masterpiece of film-making and an artistic triumph, "The Passion" evoked more deep reflection, sorrow and emotional reaction within me than anything since my wedding, my ordination or the birth of my children. Frankly, I will never be the same. When the film concluded, this "invitation only" gathering of "movers and shakers" in Washington, D.C. were shaking indeed, but this time from sobbing. I am not sure there was a dry eye in the place. The crowd that had been glad-handing before the film was now eerily silent. No one could speak because words were woefully inadequate.

We had experienced a kind of art that is a rarity in life, the kind that makes heaven touch earth. One scene in the film has now been forever etched in my mind. A brutalized, wounded Jesus was soon to fall again under the weight of the cross. His mother had made her way along the Via Della Rosa. As she ran to him, she flashed back to a memory of Jesus as a child, falling in the dirt road outside of their home. Just as she reached to protect him from the! fall, she was now reaching to touch his wounded adult face. Jesus looked at her with intensely probing and passionately loving eyes (and at all of us through the screen) and said "Behold I make all things new."

These are words taken from the last Book of the New Testament, the Book of Revelation. Suddenly, the purpose of the pain was so clear and the wounds, that earlier in the film had been so difficult to see in His face, His back, indeed all over His body, became intensely beautiful. They had been borne voluntarily for love.

At the end of the film, after we had all had a chance to recover, a question and answer period ensued. The unanimous praise for the film, from a rather diverse crowd, was as astounding as the compliments were effusive. The questions included the one question that seems to follow this film, even though it has not yet even been released. "Why is this film considered by some to be "anti-Semitic?" Frankly, having now experienced (you do not "view" this film) "the Passion" it is a question that is impossible to answer.

A law professor whom I admire sat in front of me. He raised his hand and responded "After watching this film, I do not understand how anyone can insinuate that it even remotely presents that the Jews killed Jesus. It doesn't." He continued "It made me realize that my sins killed Jesus" I agree. There is not a scintilla of anti-Semitism to be found anywhere in this powerful film. If there were, I would be among the first to decry it.

It faithfully tells the Gospel story in a dramatically beautiful, sensitive and profoundly engaging way. Those who are alleging otherwise have either not seen the film or have another agenda behind their protestations. This is not a "Christian" film, in the sense that it will appeal only to those who identify themselves as followers of Jesus Christ. It is a deeply human, beautiful story that will deeply touch all men and women. It is a profound work of art. Yes, its producer is a Catholic Christian and thankfully has remained faithful to the Gospel text; if that is no longer acceptable behavior than we are all in trouble.

History demands that we remain faithful to the story and Christians have a right to tell it. After all, we believe that it is the greatest story ever told and that its message is for all men and women. The greatest right is the right to hear the truth. We would all be well advised to remember that the Gospel narratives to which "The Passion" is so faithful were written by Jewish men who followed a Jewish Rabbi whose life and teaching have forever changed the history of the world.

The problem is not the message but those who have distorted it and used it for hate rather than love. The solution is not to censor the message, but rather to promote the kind of gift of love that is Mel Gibson's filmmaking masterpiece, "The Passion." It should be seen by as many people as possible. I intend to do everything I can to make sure that is the case. I am passionate about "The Passion." You will be as well. Don't! miss it!

what will happen

Around this time of year, I like to spread a little Valenine joy and sentiment by filling my community candy jar with conversation hearts. I just had this conversation with Ovie, boss³'s secretary:

Me: (taking a few from the jar for my own consumption) People better hurry up and eat these...they have a shelf life
She: They go bad?
Me: Well, they don't go bad, but they get...
She: Soft?
Me: No...actually...they turn rock hard.
She: Really, I thought they got mushy...
Me: Well, they get hard in Colorado....but it's so dry there it must draw out the moisture.
She: I think they get softer and softer here.

So....are conversation hearts affected differently according to the varying relative atmospheric barometric pressure and humidity? I need to know...for the sake of the hearts.

hope, prayer, and legislation for the preborn

Lee has a good post on new legislation being presented in South Dakota, and to wrap it up, as good of a prophetic statement as I've seen in a while.

movie lit 101

I watched The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen this past week. It was a mediocre movie, with a predictable, hackneyed plot. The most interesting elements of the story, intentionally, were the characters, although it grew tiresome watching Tom Sawyer say, "Did you see that?!!?" Mina Harker was compellingly portrayed, and I enjoyed being reintroduced to Dorian Gray, who I first met in Senior English (high school), but failed to appreciate, amidst the other important events of my life back then.

I thought the portrayal of the Rodney, an invisible man (and not Hawley Griffen the invisible man, was pretty flimsy (not sociopathic enough, as embodied by K. Bacon in his modern-day cinematic interpretation), and Jeckyll/Hyde was cartoonish/buffoonish. And I would like to have seen Allan Quartermain be a little more unbalanced (opium freak) but doubt 007 would have portrayed him if the hero had been written in such a manner in the screenplay. Oh, and lest I forget, I was finding Nemo to be a well-portrayed well-intentioned miscreant, although the PC homage to his pagan worship was a bit boorish.

I like this genre that takes a new take on an established character (or even historical event) and says "what if." Now, my only "what if" is "what if the movie had been done better?"

on a related note:
>

Look, a chap's entitled to a few mistakes!

>Which Extraordinary Gentleman are you?

a passion-ate email

latest grass-roots buzz on Gibson's flick (slightly edited to remove irrelevant details, contains "spoiler" details, if you consider Jesus getting nailed to the cross a spoiler. If that is a spoiler, then read the book of John before you go see the movie, for cryin' out loud):

Hey friends and family,
Last night I attended a private screening of Mel Gibson's movie....12/8/2003, at Ricky Skaggs' church in Hendersonville. There were about 200 people in attendance.

Well,....let me just say that I am speechless, moved beyond words and sobered by what I saw last night. I'm sure many of you will be receiving emails from some of your friends who were there as well...and you'll probably be bombarded with their own personal stories..

There were many country artists as well as Christian artists there, along side some radio and press folks. The movie was in a rough cut version...but still I thought a very finished state,...special effects had not been added yet, nor was the music complete....still it brought uncontrollable weeping from everyone.. I couldn't stop crying through the whole movie. And when the movie was over, there was complete silence in the church.. I wanted the story to go on and on...for another two hours.... I think the movie was about 2 hours long.

The beating and suffering of Christ was almost unbearable to watch. The scenes with flashbacks of Jesus when he was a little boy and a scene of his mother running to comfort him and then cradling him in her arms after he had fallen down about the age of 4 or 5.....was interlaced with scenes of him falling to the ground carrying his own cross, so bloody and unrecognizable...and then her holding him in her arms after he had been taken down from the cross. Her face then stared into the camera while she was holding him...and you could just imagine the things she was thinking. Every parent who was seated near me ... fell apart.

The nails being hammered into his hands was the most real thing I had ever seen. One scene of Jesus and the interaction with his mother...just reminded me of every 20-year old man/child and mom relationship. Where she's trying to get him to come to eat...and has to remind him to wash his hands before eating...she brings water to wash his hands..and after washing, he gently splashes water on his mother..but then wraps his arms around her and kisses her on the cheek....and takes off running to the food.. I don't know..it just reminded me of something my 15 year old Cody would do to me..... And the thought of one of my boys going through that, just made me want to die
inside...

Anyway... I could go on and on....but I truly have no words....as you can tell by the book i'm writing here....haa There was a question and answer period last night with Mel himself. We had heard rumors that he's been showing up to these screenings. I got brave enough to put my hand up and ask a question about the miracles that we had heard about, on the set. And he began to talk about so many I couldn't really keep track. I remember hearing about one of the actors being hit by lightning twice yet walking away from it..with only smoking fingertips, healings , conversions on the set,..but I especially remember him talking about a Two-year old child's, hearing and sight being restored...and he said...you know you can't fake that when you're two. So we know it was real.

He was asked about Spiritual warfare on the set...and he just laughingly said..."Oh yeah..just being in Italy alone was enough warfare,..but he said it was intense.

He said that the bad press surrounding the movie..is just a few small pressure groups that are causing all the noise. But seem to have the loudest mouths. And that became the reason for having these small private screenings..is to get the word out and to start a grass roots campaign into a swell. WOW....that sounds familiar. We all get the chance to be Christ's disciples all over again, in a fresh new way...

Ricky Skaggs asked the final question of the night to Mel.....about how we can pray for him, help him, spread the word etc. He said that "prayer was the most powerful thing. And not to pray for all our enemies to have warts grow on their faces, (laughter), but to pray for our warring angels to fight against satan's angels, because the people don't know any better, they are clueless...and they are just being used by satan."

sung to the tune of looks like we made it

Last night, amidst the revelry of ROTK*, we saw that the day's precipitation would likely turn to freezing rain. I awoke to the news reports of North Georgia's schools shutting down, including Kaylyn's. I then called our work number to see if our office was shut down...

"You have reached the inclement weather line....if we had shut down the office, this is where you would've heard about it, so in other words, you better be on your way to work."

So, I dressed warm and mentally prepared for an arduous 22-mile excursion.

There was ice on the trees, but the roads were great. I made it 70 mph all the way to within two exits. Then there was a back-log at 11, so I I-turned over the median and went back to 12, where I took alternate route (b), which leads to alternate route (a), which got me to the office at 32 minutes after I left home.

Toaday, barely half the lot is full. And my estimation of half my colleagues has dropped a bit, as I look at their closed office doors and think....

....wimps.

*Return of the Kelli

1/25/2004

vh1-derful

I've added the Best Week Ever blog to the blogroll, in order to feed the insatiable beast which craves only pop culture in daily-dispensed morsels.

And I was compelled and engaged by last night's airing of Reuniting the Band: Franky Goes to Hollywood. It was interesting to see how these Londoners had matured in the 17 years since their "band" had broken up. And I had the pleasure/torture of listening to 243 snippets/video clips of Relax in the course of the hour.

I don't know that I'll necessarily set my agenda around future episodes (featuring Kajagoogoo) or re-airing of other already-shown episodes (Klymaxx and A Flock of Seagulls), but I'd likely watch it (and not like it will be difficult, since VH1 appears to be airing these episodes every other hour of the day for the next two months) if passing through and I hear playing on the TV speakers:*

a) And I raaa-uh-aan, I ran so far awaaa-uh-ay.
I just raaa-uh-aan, I ran all night and daaaa-uh-ay.
Icoodn'tgettaway.

b)Too shy-shy
Hushhush, eyetoeye
Too shy-shy
Hushhush, eyetoeye
Too shy-shy
Hushhush, eyetoeye
Too shy-shy
Hush huuuuuussssshhhhh

c) I miiiIIIIiiIiIIiiiss you
There`s no other way to say it
And I, and I can't deny it
I miiiIIIIiiIiIIiiiss you
It`s so easy to see

I didn't know any of them back then, I never bought their albums. But I knew the songs and danced to each using a limited variation of the Northwestern Colorado White Guy Groove Shuffle at various public dances offered at Craig's Old Armory, the Cassidy Salloon (can you believe they used to open it up to kids, and our parents let us go?!?), and of course, the high school. With a bond like that, one just has to tune in and see how the respective "artists" are doing, years after that fickle wench named Fame kicked them to the curb for Vanilla Ice and Kriss Kross, and EMF.

*note: Lyrical masterpieces all, no doubt, but these choruses are pretty much all I know of the songs. One episode of hearing these choruses over and over and over and over satisfies individual curiosity of the band for a period of 10-20 additional years.

Blogger Idol week 2

The theme is Freedom.

hmmm....I'm going to need a little time to develop my strategery on this one. Two participants have already exercised theirs' to contribute.

sung to the tune of home sweet home

We go to Jackson-Hartfield or Hartsfield-Jackson or Hartson-Jackfield or whatever its called....to pick up my beloved.

We love her for who she is, we're thankful for what she does, and she's very much been missed.