Back to the Blog!

Thanks to the multitude of you (Danny, Tricia, and Kelly) who have asked me to blog more frequently. I appreciate that you check in periodically, and I know how disappointing it is to visit a site that never gets updated.

[I had to type 'disappointing' six times above before I got it right. Spell checkers, although handy, sure do make a guy feel dumb.]

I really haven't spent a lot of time writing or reading blogs the last few months. I used to do these things on my lunch, but even that time slot seems to have been lost due to changes in my job. Like everyone else, it just seems that I am busier and my days go faster than ever. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

I plan to get back to blogging because I really enjoy writing when I take the time to do it. Please keep checking in periodically. I will have a new web host soon and will commit to updating that new site weekly. I will email the new address when it's up and running.

Thanks again!

[PS Blogging still feels very narcissistic to me. Just counting the 'I's above makes me blush. So how are YOU?]

[PPS Wow. I thought I had trouble with 'disappointing'. Had to look up narcissistic.]

Daily Devotion Time

Maybe like me, you have several good daily devotion books on your shelf somewhere. Or perhaps your church, like mine, puts out copies of "Daily Bread". We all know we need devotion and study time, but perhaps we don't make the time like we should.

There's a great web resource called Devotional Christian that has online resources for many common daily devotions, including Daily Bread, and writings by Oswald Chambers, Billy Graham, and Charles Spurgeon. With this resource, you can do a brief devotion reading at work on your lunch hour. You can add this webpage to your RSS feeder (I use Google Reader), or have the material emailed directly to you. Couple this with a good online bible resource, like Bible Gateway, and your all set with no excuses.

The web address is hyperlinked above, but here is the full link:

http://devotionalchristian.com/

Mmmmmm.... Chick-Fil-A

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. The well has been kinda dry.

In the interim, enjoy this:

Ice Tea? While Rolling my Plane? No Problem.

Watch the pilot of this aircraft pour a glass of ice tea while performing a barrel roll.

Fan Letter

I just hope that someone writes him back.

Hungry?

"Men Only" Weekend

That's a picture of me and two of my favorite people in the whole world (the photo was taken a year ago at the top of the St. Louis arch).

Last weekend, their mother (Doesn't that make it sound like I'm divorced? Peculiar, huh?) went to have a wild weekend with her own mom and sister. Not to be outdone by three giggling females gabbing incessantly about scrapbooking, consignment clothing stores, tanning, girl-movies, and Chipendale's dancers (Ok, I was kidding on part of that -- I don't think they talked about scrapbooking) me and my crew had our own crazy-fun weekend.

On friday, Michelle left early in the day so I got to keep the boys at work for about 5 hours. I was pretty busy, but everyone that I work with said they were very good (Way to go boys). I think they even got paid to do a little work while they were there.

After work, we went to Hideaway Pizza. I'm pretty new to Hideaway, but I must say that it's my favorite Pizza. Hands down. It even beats the pants off the Chicago pizzas we tried a few weeks ago.

So anyway, after consuming a large "Mob Boss" (that's bacon, pepperoni, salami, italian sausage, black olives, and shredded garlic -- hmmm, pork... good) we went over to the used game store and picked up some new PS3 goodies and then to Target where we bought a movie - 'The Sandlot'.

We had a blast playing Motorstorm (monster trucks and four-wheelers) and Resistance (first-person shooter; blood, guts, and mayhem; only purchased by irresponsible parents who are encouraging similar behavior in their kids). Sandlot was very funny. I rarely use the word "Hilarious" because few things are to me, but my kids thought it was. This movie made up for the disappointment that was "Mall Cop".

I find that now I can watch certain PG and PG-13 movies with my kids that I used to avoid, due to language. Thanks to the lady down the street, I don't really have to worry about introducing anymore new cuss words to the boys vocal repertoire. Of course I won't be renting "Good Will Hunting" anytime soon to watch with them. Gotta draw the line somewhere.

Saturday, we played games for a few hours and ate breakfast at noon. We had to go out and purchase a couple of baseball gloves and a ball (thanks Sandlot for the inspiration on that).

We ended the day with ballpark hot dogs at the Tulsa Drillers baseball game (13 innings, ouch my aching back) and a fireworks show.

When we got home from the game, mom was home, effectively ending 'Men Only' weekend. The boys didn't care too much because they were wiped out. I certainly didn't care because I love my PHAT wife. She's the bomb.

Wes and Griff, I had a blast with you guys, as I always do. You guys rock.

COST OF "MEN ONLY" WEEKEND

1 Large "Mob Boss" and 3 Mountain Dews ...... $28.00

2 Used Video Games .......................................... 29.98

1 2-Liter of Coke and Sandlot DVD ............. 6.99

2 baseball gloves and a 2-pack of baseballs.... 34.00

3 Tulsa Drillers Tickets ................................... 18.00

3 Hot Dogs, 3 Small Mountain Dews .............. 19.50

1 excellent and memorable weekend with my kids............... $136.47

( You probably thought I was gonna say "Priceless", right? Get real. Did you see the cost of those hot dogs?? Ridiculous.)

Food Order Wrong? Call 9-1-1

At first I thought this was funny. Now that I've thought about it, it just makes me angry.

This is a perfect example of the attitude of many Americans today: Not happy with your life? Call the government to fix it.

Be sure and listen to the audio of the 9-1-1 calls. Ridiculous.

http://www.oregonlive.com/washingtoncounty/index.ssf/2009/05/aloha_man_calls_911_over_botch.html

Gaggle

You may be aware that occasionally, on really monumental days, Google will replace their trademark, colorful logo. Most recently, they recognized Earth Day with a stylized rendering of their name. Of course Earth Day is worthy of such recognition, since it is our most important holiday.



Today, they have replaced the uber-iconic logo with Ida, the newly pronounced missing link.

In case you haven't heard, this billions-of-year-old fossil of a lemur monkey is the missing link that proves that Darwin was right.

I admit, I was a bit skeptical, especially when I heard that the 'newly revealed' missing link was actually discovered over 25 years ago (I guess the scientists just needed time to make sure that the discovery was legitimate before they announced their findings to the world). But then I came over to my favorite search engine, and low and behold, the familiar blue-red-yellow-blue-green-red logo was relaced with none other than this soon-to-be-famous dead animal!

Well, throw away your bibles and lock the church doors. Creationism is dead, along with all of the other mythology that went with it. Wah-hoo the war is over! Thanks for validating this for us Google!

Hybrid Car Review

If you like, own, or are thinking of purchasing a hybrid vehicle, you may be offended by Jeremy Clarkson's recent review of the Honda Insight.

However, if you believe that hybrid cars are but an environmental placebo that allows furry-legged women and smelly, bearded men to feel like they're doing the "green thing" and look down their collective, tree-hugging noses at the rest of us fossil-fuel-wasting Capitalists, then you may find his review humorous. I did.

HT: Between Two Worlds

The Front Fell Off

The Curse of "Are You My Mother"

I was reminded of this book this morning when I read Abraham Piper's blog post. It made me kind of nostalgic to see the book cover and got me to wondering when it was published.

I went over to Amazon to get the publish date and noticed that there were several one-star reviews of this book. I had to read them.

I mean, seriously, what's not to like about "Are You My Mother?"


Check out what this person had to say (regular text is pasted in below if the screen capture is too hard to read. ):

Here's the text of the review:

A CURSE! AN UTTER CURSE!

Many of you, "Parents", have exposed this book unto your families. Same thing with my mother. She exposed this story to me. But you know what I see in this book of evil? Scary images and ideas. Look at the dog for instance. Does he look like a "nice" dog to you? He didn't to me. He scarred the buttons of my shirt. Everytime I look at his eyes I fill with fear. But the idea of being seperated from your parents of the worst fear factor. AND in addition. NEVER EVER EVER BUY THE VIDEO THAT GOES WITH THIS BOOK! It has bizarre music that will stick in your childs minds while the sleep and haunt them. I had many nightmares about "Are You My Mother" and your kids shouldn't. NEVER BUY THIS BOOK!

"CURSE....Book of Evil....scary...fear" -- Wow. This is one scarred soul.

I have a mental picture of the reviewer. It includes long hair bound up in a hair net, and an ankle length, denim skirt (that's inside stuff for my fellow home educators).

Even more disturbing, to me, is that five other people found this review helpful.

Oh well. Don't forget the book burning at 5:00 PM tonight. Bring your Salman Rushdie and Dr. Suess!

CHICAGO

We just returned from an 8 day oddessey to Mishiwaka, Indiana, to see my brother and his family, and eventually to Chicago. We had a fantastic time. Here are some highlights:

This is my brother. He says he is not texting, but I think he is. No one really knows what he is doing. In this photo, you will see his happy, excited state. His other emotions look pretty much the same.

This is Wes and Griff swimming with Trey and Frank. They would be second cousins...no wait. First cousins, once removed. No, twice removed. No....second cousins, twice removed. I don't know. But they are family.

We had a good time at the hotel swimming pool in Mishiwaka. Nobody gave us a hard time about the 8 guests that we brought with us to swim. Way to go Hyatt Place, 5 stars for you.

After Mishiwaka to see the fam, we headed into Chicago to stay at the Drake (the conference that I had to attend later in the week for my job was held there). That's where Oprah puts up her guests so I guess they are used to seeing weird folks there. Nobody gave us too much guff, even when we hauled all of our own luggage up to our rooms. What a circus that was.

Nice hotel. No swimming pool or vending machines though ($7 for a bottle of water from the mini fridge -- are you serious? You lost a star there and one for the pool, Drake).

Monday we went to the Museum of Science and Industry. Very cool. Lots of trains, planes, and automobiles.





















A couple of exhibits seemed surreal, yet familiar.....
















After the museum, and an excellent meal at a downtown restaurant Carmine's, we went back to the hotel and managed to catch most of '24'. Dang that Tony Almeida.

On Tuesday, we went to the Shedd aquarium. Overall it was very good, but it made us realize how great our own aquarium in Jenks, Oklahoma really is.





















After a long day at the aquarium ("Hey look everyone, it's another tank with some fish in it!") we went back downtown to eat at the Rainforest Cafe. I know, that's not really native Chicago fare, but we had a good time and the food was great. We finished up with a dessert called the volcano, complete with a gen-u-ine sparkler on top. Very decadent.

We walked off some of the chocolate cake and magnesium tainted vanilla ice cream with a short jaunt to the Hard Rock Cafe. Here Griffin and Wes posed with one of Jimi's guitars.




S'cuze me while I kiss the sky....





We also visited the John Hancock building a couple of times. The first time we went up to the observatory, it was too cloudy to even see the ground. We managed to catch a break in the weather on our last morning there and got some good photos (including the one at the top of this page).
















Another highlight of the week was a trip to Wrigley Field for a Cubs game. They lost, but we had a blast (and a hotdog).


At the end of this historic day (first major league game for any of us) the kids testified that their favorite part was the ride out to the park on the subway. Go figure.

Things Kids Say, Part 3

We drive some of the neighborhood kids to church on Wednesdays, to our AWANA program.

Among the regulars are delightful twin girls, aged 7.

Recently, on the way to church, they announced that one of their dogs was overheated.

"Overheated?" My wife and I were perplexed in the front seat. It had been unseasonably hot that day -- 85 degrees in April. "Did you say that your dog got overheated?" I asked the girls.

"Yea. She's overheated, " said twin girl #1.

Twin girl #2 clarified with "We have to take her to get bread".

Beatboxing Chef

Saw this video first over at Worship Matters.com. Beatboxing....cool.
(This may take a minute to load)

Watch 'Taking Chance'

I've seen several blogs recently talking about the movie Taking Chance, starring Kevin Bacon -- Mark Hemingway at NRO online for one.
I recently had a chance to catch the last half of this movie during a hotel stay, and I cannot wait to see the whole movie. It is an amazing, moving film that, surprisingly, doesn't appear to have a hidden agenda.

Watch this movie as soon as you can.
Then tell me what you think about it.

No Matter How You Cut It.....

Growing up as a kid, 'fart' was a bad word in my household. Or at least, it was considered vulgar -- the first f-word I learned that I was scolded for using. I guess some habits die hard. As an adult, I still don't like the word.

That begs the question, "so, what do you call it?"

As you can imagine, with two strapping young lads in the household, it is a common enough occurrence. It's the timeless giggle inducer -- the ultimate punchline. Dad gets in on the action sometimes too, I must admit (never the Mom, though. Girls never toot, right?).

The other day, I asked "who cut the cheese?" as the telltale remnants of a covert release reached my olfactory senses. I was stunned to learn that my kids had never heard the phrase and didn't know what it meant. This, then, led to a fun-filled discussion of all the ways we could express the act of 'tooting'.

There were many.

My mom used to call it 'windy', as in the wind blowing, I guess. She'd say "Whooo. Did you windy?" I never cared much for the weather allegory, though. It still makes my nose wrinkle to hear it (pun intended).

My nephew Josh asked me once, "Did you bluff?" I've always kinda liked this term. It's subtle, and clever. A common response to that one is "Nope. It's the real deal. I'm all in" (that there is poker talk, in case you want to act like you don't know).

My wife introduced me to the 'spider bark' term early in our marriage. In response to my question "what was that?", she said "It must've been a spider bark". Of course, if you'll refer back to the second paragraph of this post, you'll note that the Mom never toots. Therefore, in that particular instance (and many since) it must've really been a spider bark.

SBD stands for 'Silent But Deadly'. These are strictly banned at our house as all fun ends when these occur. The player must leave the room (and preferably the house) if one of these is imminent.

Anyway, maybe you don't talk about stuff like this in your household -- we may just be tacky and uncultured. Or, it may be because we don't have an indoor dog to blame it on.

So what term do you use?

Things Kids Say, Part 2

From the Griff comes these two terms:

Re-mem-ber-ized.
Def.: To commit to memory, past tense.
Example: "Today, I rememberized two new Bible verses."

Di-nag-ol-lee.
Def.: A line that traverses neither horizontally or vertically, but at some angle in between.
Example: "To draw a triangle, draw a straight line up, then a straight line sideways, then connect them with a line dinagollee."

Smile

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit our Nation’s capital and meet with some members of Congress, the Senate, and with armies of congressional staff members. In the natural course of doing this, I was, of course, subjected to multiple security screenings and encounters with the Capital Police. For the most part, these folks are serious, down-to-business, and at times, slightly rude.

There was one exception, though.

I was patiently waiting in line for security screening along with my boss in one of the Congressional office buildings when he unleashed one of his notorious sneezes, the likes of which, I assure you, you have never heard. First of all, his sneezes are very loud. Secondly, the second half of his sneeze, the ‘choo’ part, if you will, is part air-raid siren, and part thirteen-year-old-girl-who-has-just-been-goosed-after-watching-‘The Ring’. It’s the kind of event that silences a crowded hallway of people previously gabbing and honking like geese as they look around to make sure that everything is ok.

I stood there grinning as my boss moved ahead of me and through the metal detector -- I couldn’t help it. I had this silly vision in my head of the Capital police and the soldiers who I had seen earlier in the day on the Capital steps all charging in to surround us, guns drawn, red laser beams illuminating the walls and ceiling like so many fireflies, and looking for the source of that horrible and frightening noise, all the while accompanied by the soundtrack to the T.V. show, “24”. I was seriously grinning this big dorky smile and my eyes were watering as I noticed that there was a gap in the line because I was next, and hadn’t proceeded through the metal detector, or even emptied my pockets.

I made eye contact with the officer on the other side of the metal detector and prepared to step through. (** In case you don’t know this, it is a serious breach of protocol to enter a metal detector until the chief metal-detector officer motions you through. This is typically done with an abrupt, salute-like motion of the first and second fingers of their right hand, held slightly below chest-level. This motion may be accompanied by a curt nod of the head and some audible cue, but not always. If you go to an airport, or a secure government building DO NOT enter the metal detector without receiving this cue or you will be faced with the embarrassing procedure of having to circle around the device and go through again, much to the disdain and disgust of said officer.)

As I stepped through, having received the proscribed “come-through” motion from the chief metal-detector officer, the officer behind the x-ray monitor, an attractive black woman, said “Now what are you grinning about?”

“I’m just a happy man,” I blurted, still laughing about the sneeze, but now concerned about getting cuffed.

She was smiling now, and speaking to the chief metal-detector officer, also a woman, she said “Well, a happy man. How about that?” And then, “Oh too bad. He’s a married, happy man,” as she spied my ring.

At this point I realized that I was being flirted with, and, I confess, I kind of liked it. The soundtrack in my head abruptly changed from “24” to Mick Jagger singing about Brown Sugar. I knew any attempts at a clever come-back at this point would fail due to a lethargic “come-back” chromosome, so I simply said “I’m a happy man, and a happily married man.” And I painted her with my best, charmer smile.

At this point, she was interviewing me about my family tree. “You got any cousins at home? Any cousins that you can send my way?” I liked the way she said cousins – “cooz-ins”.

Now the two officers were engaged with each other, laughing and talking about the rarity of a happy man, and that there must be something wrong with me. I hurried to catch up with my boss, still smiling, just in time for him to launch another sneeze.

Later, it occurred to me that I stood out to this Police officer, not because of my natural good looks and charm (kidding– I’m not that arrogant), but because I was smiling. I began to look around at people and realized that no one smiles, especially in D.C. In fact, most folks walk around with a scowl on their face (I was later to learn that this is a natural defense mechanism to keep beggars away. I was approached by a several beggars – had to stop smiling – but that’s another blog topic).

So, if you want to capture someone’s attention….smile.

The Library Blond

This has been around for a while. It's still one of my favorites.

Things Kids Say

Wes, reading a menu at a mexican restaurant, pronounced "fajita" phonetically, with the hard 'j' and a long 'i'. Maybe it's just me, but that cracks me up.

Griffin continues to pronounce the word 'motorcycle' as "murder-cycle". Smart kid. I'm not going to correct him. He also says 'finger' with a 'th' at the beginning: "thinger".

"A Nation of Idol Contestants"

That title is not mine. I stole it from Tom Neven. Below is a link to his excellent post over at Boundlessline.org.

In it he summarizes, "We're in danger of becoming a nation of Idol contestants, wanting a quick ride to the good life without the hard work and patience to actually earn it."

Then this zinger about the President: "What else could explain the election of a callow, inexperienced president who ran as a messiah but has been proved in the past few weeks to have feet of clay—"

Wow.

Tom then closes with: "Let's see American Idol for what it is: ephemeral fizz that within weeks dissipates into the essential nothingness that it is."

http://www.boundlessline.org/2009/02/american-idol-and-flight-1549.html

Don't Forget

Men, don't forget tomorrow is Valentine's Day. You still have time to get her something nice.

Oh, and don't fall for that, "Let's don't get anything for each other" line. It's a lose-lose deal. Even if you believe that she means it, get a fall-back gift just in case. If she springs something on you, you'll have something for her. If not, save it for her birthday.

Don't let this happen to you.

Ghosting

Ever feel like someone's following you? Check your six -- it might be Hamish & Andy.

Hang with this video. It gets fun at about 2:00.

Double Dip

First of all, credit for this post goes to Boundless Line, where the author, Motte Brown wrote about a bit he heard on the John Tesh show about double dipping.

John Tesh got his info from the show "Food Detectives" from Food Network. Here's the summary from Tesh's page:

Food myth #1: Double dipping transmits germs. That’s TRUE. In an experiment that involved food technicians double-dipping, and even triple-dipping a bag of potato chips, scientists found the results disturbingly dirty. All it takes is one single bite to transfer more than 10-thousand bacteria from the mouth back into a bowl of dip.

Arguably, Seinfeld is responsible for bringing both the act and the term "double dipping" to the mainstream of social and cultural debate. Here's the scene from episode #59, "The Implant", from February, 1993:



As Timmy illustrates, once again Seinfeld proves to still be culturally relevant, prophetic, and accurate.

Incidentally, Seinfeld Episode #59 also gave us Teri Hatcher (who later would play Lois Lane and a Desperate something-or-other) delivering the classic line: "They're real, and they're spectacular."

But that's another blog topic...

BBall Trick Shots

How about two three-point shots at the same time, one from each hand?
No problem.



(I guess even millionaires over 6 feet tall have trouble finding sweatpants that are long enough. I can relate.)

Watch Your Tracts

We were riding in the car the other day when, from the back seat, my 9-year–old asks “Dad, what’s lust?”

"An interesting question", I think to myself. He probably heard it from a bible verse or something. So, I give him a definition like “It means wanting something really bad --So bad that just wanting it becomes a sin.”

“Ok”, he replies. Good. He’s satisfied with the answer. Moving on now.

Later that day, on the return trip, I get this one. “Dad, what’s shacking?”

HUH? “You mean a ‘shack’, like a small house?”

“No,” he says, “shack-ING", emphasizing the last syllable, "Shacking. What is it?”

I look at my wife. She's in the front seat, wearing the ‘No more network TV for the kids’ look. She decides to take this one on: “It’s when two people live together, but they are not married to each other.”

“Oh”, he says seriously, with the tone of a 9-year-old who knows something bad when he hears it.

Mom and I look at each other, self satisfied, “Yea, we’re doing something right”, with the mental tongue click and wink.

He’s not done now, though. “What’s gay?”

Quickly, I respond with “It means ‘happy’. Where are you getting these questions??”

“Oh,” he matter-of-factly replies, “it’s just a book I’m reading.”

Then he launches the real zinger: “What’s HO - MO - sex - u - ality”, he sounds out, impressively.

That’s it. “WHAT ARE YOU READING?” The truck swerves as I look over my shoulder at my son.

“Dad! It’s just this comic book that I got at church”. As if either the words ‘comic book’ or ‘church’ would excuse any impropriety in owning such an interesting book.

There it was, in his sweaty, little, inquisitive hands. A Chick comic.

Now, if you’ve grown up in little, conservative, evangelical churches like myself, you will probably remember Chick tracts (maybe your church still has that little wire stand in the foyer, chock full of Chick tracts). Perhaps you remember them fondly because you haven’t seen one since you were a kid. Or, maybe these tracts scared you (Remember “This Was Your Life”, where they beamed all the bad deeds you did in life on a big-screen TV for all of heaven to see?). These tracts seem innocent enough --at least I used to think they were. Now, through an adults’ eyes, I see them a bit differently.

Needless to say, the Chick tract collection will be sequestered until we can read and approve them. Or, maybe I will just toss the whole lot… In fact, I know I will. I now hate Chick.

So, thanks Jack Chick for introducing some more wasn’t-quite-ready-to-have-to-explain-that-to-my-kids vocabulary to our household. Between you and the lady down the street, I won’t have to worry that my kids will grow up ignorant of all the ills of this world, or the FCC’s seven forbidden words.

Getting Catechized

Catechism.

I have always had a knee jerk reaction to that word. I associated it with the Catholic faith -- that the Catechism was something Catholics read, sort of their rulebook.

Who knew that the word simply means "instruct" or "teach"?

Anyway, I'm starting a study of a Baptist Catechism that is based on the Westminster Catechism. I wrote about it over at Gloria Dei.

BHHS

It stands for Bless His/Her Heart Syndrome. Read about it here.

Watch Out iPhone

I don't much care for mobile phones. I have even blogged about it before. But here's some mobile technology I can get behind (pun intended...you'll see).

Good Books

I'm not a book reviewer. There's plenty of bright folks out there that do a great job of that. But I do love to read and I wanted to recommend a couple of my recent favorites.

Peace Like A River, by Lief Enger is the best novel I read last year. Enger is a master wordsmith and tells a moving story. I don't want to ruin the adventure of reading this book by giving any of the plot away, but here's a bit from the novel's opening chapter, where Reuben Land, the books' narrator, has just been born and is not breathing:

I was lying uncovered on a metal table across the room.
Dad lifted me gently. I was very clean from all that rubbing, and I was gray and beginning to cool. A little clay boy is what I was.
“Breathe,” Dad said.
I lay in his arms.
Dr. Nokes said, “Jeremiah, it has been twelve minutes.”
“Breathe!” The picture I see is of Dad, brown hair short and wild, giving this order as if he expected nothing but obedience.
Dr. Nokes approached him. “Jeremiah. There would be brain damage now. His lungs can’t fill.”
Dad leaned down, laid me back on the table, took off his jacket and wrapped me in it—a black canvas jacket with a quilted lining, I have it still. He left my face uncovered.
"Sometimes," said Dr. Nokes, “there is something unworkable in one of the organs. A ventricle that won’t pump correctly. A liver that poisons the blood.” Dr. Nokes was a kindly and reasonable man. “Lungs that can’t expand to take in air. In these cases,” said Dr. Nokes, “we must trust in the Almighty to do what is best.” At which Dad stepped across and smote Dr. Nokes with a right hand, so that the doctor went down and lay on his side with his pupils unfocused. As Mother cried out, Dad turned back to me, a clay child wrapped in a canvas coat, and said in a normal voice, “Reuben Land, in the name of the living God I am telling you to breath.” (Peace Like A River, by Leif Enger, pages 2-3)


Buy or borrow this book today. You won't be disappointed.
__________________________

The Cross He Bore, by Frederick S. Leahy is the current recommended reading for the book club that I participate in. I am only on Chapter 5 of this small book (100 pages) and it is already one of my favorites. Don't be put off on this book thinking that it is too theological -- it is a superbly written and highly readable book about the suffering of our Savior.

Here's a sample from the chapter "Strengthened to Suffer" about Jesus' agonizing time of prayer in Gethsemane before his arrest:

Although the entreaties of Christ in the garden met with oppressive silence, it does not follow that the Father was indifferent to the Son's anguish or that his prayer was unheeded (page 18).

...the finger of the Father was upon the pulse of the lonely Sufferer in Gethsemane, and when the heart-beats of the One in conflict seemed to weaken, Heaven concerned itself about Him, and an angel was commissioned to hasten to His physical aid (page 18).

...The angel's mission was not to bring relief to Christ, but to strengthen Him for further and even greater anguish - anguish quite beyond human endurance (page 19).

This book will cause you to spend time meditating on and pondering what Christ endured for us.

Borrower No More

I'm done borrowing. It's too frustrating.

I don't have a good track record with borrowing. I'm going to have to buy Josh a new copy of a book that he lent me because I stepped on it one morning getting out of bed bending the cover and the first 10 pages back.

Josh is very particular with his books. He's one of those guys that doesn't break the spine when he reads. All of his books look new --except for all those meticulously printed notes on the back of the cover.

I'll buy another copy of the book to give back -- no big deal because I like the book and probably would have purchased myself a copy anyway. But I have to recopy all of those notes. Neatly. In really tiny print. Criminy.

Josh should know better than to lend to me.

One day a couple of years ago, I discovered my youngest son, Griffin, listening to a Coldplay CD. Wow, I thought. That's interesting. "Where did this come from?"

He showed me the DVD case - it was a DVD/CD combo, Coldplay LIVE. The case (with two empty disc holders, lonely and dusty) was in the bottom of his closet toy box. Hmmm, I thought. "Where's the DVD?"

It was in the toy box too. Nastily scratched up. Basically it was a dead DVD -- gone the way of many a Barney and Disney DVD, I'm sure, left too long in the unsupervised possession of a non-adult.

Now, you must believe this: I had absolutely no recollection of where this Coldplay DVD/CD had come from. I did not remember that Josh had lent it to me, probably many months earlier, in order to broaden my musical horizons (you see why I'm not responsible enough to lend to?). To his credit, patient man that he is, Josh had never mentioned the non-return of said borrowed Coldplay (he is a big Coldplay fan -- that must've rankled some). I certainly did not know how Griffin came to be in possession of it, although he probably knows Coldplay music better than I do now.

So anyway, after a trip to Best Buy to purchase a new Coldplay DVD/CD and the embarrassing return of said Coldplay to Josh, you'd think I would know better than to borrow (from him) again.

Recently, I noticed another borrowed book in my collection. This one belongs to Kelly. I think he lent it to me in 2003 or so. I thought "Maybe he's forgotten about it". Then I saw his Rambo DVD in the movie cache. Oops.

Kelly, I'm sure has at least one of my DVD's though, so I don't feel so bad about that one. I can't find my copy of Vantage Point. Dude, do you have it?

I once lent a book to Kelly's wife, Rebekah. It was a great book called Same Kind of Different as Me. I'll lend it to you if you want.

It's a little wrinkled and poofy though. Rebekah dropped it in the bathtub.

Now, understand this, 'cause I don't want her to feel bad about it -- she offered to replace it. I told her not to worry about it. It was just so darn funny. I didn't know that people read in the tub.

Apparently the book-dropping-in-the-tub has happened to Rebekah before because she has several wrinkled, poofy books. I can't look at my copy of Same Kind of Different as Me without cracking up. Now, for those of us not married to Rebekah, we must stop imagining this scene and move on.

Last spring I lent my 10 horsepower combination tree shredder and leaf mulcher to one of my neighbors and it broke. I had been using the thing for 2 years with no problem. He broke it in the first 5 minutes. He felt bad. I felt bad. It wasn't worth it.

He offered to pay for the repair but I wouldn't let him. It was probably ready to break, and I felt like I had just inadvertently set him up. How could you ever know?

Ben Franklin is right.

So what about you? Any good borrowing or lending tales to share?