A Christian co-worker had a wreck. Somebody hit her from behind. The guy that hit her pleaded for her to let him fix it without turning it into the insurance. He had his own shop, he said. He could fix it, he said. She agreed, and left her car by the road. He would send a truck to pick it up, he said. He wrote his contact information on a notepad.
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Tired.
The end of a long day at the end of a long week.
Overwhelmed.
Always more to do than there is time to do it.
Grateful.
He doesn’t want better performance, just better fellowship.
I saw Lady Liberty smoking a cigarette while standing by the road. It wasn’t exactly the Statue of Liberty. It was more like a grizzly dude in a costume that was a really bad caricature of the Statue of Liberty. I think he was supposed to be catching my attention and pointing me in the direction of a tax service that used the statue as a logo.
He got my attention all right. With the top of his costume pushed half off his head so he could deal with the cigarette in his mouth, I suspect this Lady Liberty poser did not portray the image the tax company had in mind. But then, I don’t think this guy was overly concerned with his image. Else why would he dress in a green robe and encase his head with a giant foam likeness of Goldilocks? He made me laugh as I drove right on by. Continue reading »
I have to post a short update on the hornets nest story . . .
Today, the hornets’ nest fell out of the tree.
It was empty.
We had a problem with the computers at work last night. The web conference was scheduled, people from all over the country connected, everybody waited, but the demo site wouldn’t work. After 30 minutes of trying, we cancelled the conference. Wasted time, for a bunch of people. The search for who/what to blame began almost immediately.
Don’t get me wrong. I work with some very nice people. We all make mistakes and for the most part, are very forgiving of each other. Nevertheless, when something goes wrong, the typical (and probably proper) response is to look for who / what caused it, presumably so the same mistake will not be made again. Which, in a strange way brings us to Haiti and Pat Robertson. Continue reading »
It’s 19 degrees outside. Cold. In this weather, the electric and gas meters are moving even faster than me making a barefoot run to the mailbox. The world can be cold and bleak at times, but my home is warm because the One who lives there insulates my heart, and keeps the fire burning. Life may be a little more difficult when it’s cold on the outside, but it sure makes you grateful for the Furnace on the inside.
Furnace: an enclosed chamber in which heat is produced to heat buildings, destroy refuse, smelt or refine ores, etc.
– worldnetweb.princeton.edu
The movie we watched last night was not that bad. The trailer looked funny and cute, so we thought we would watch it. There were a few four letter words, and I think I heard God’s name used in vain a few times. But it wasn’t that bad; nothing you wouldn’t hear in the street any day of the week. I guess there was an adulterous bedroom scene, but it didn’t show anything you couldn’t see on the beach, so maybe it was not that bad. Of course there was some lying and deception, but what can you watch these days that doesn’t have some of that. I’ve seen worse. Perhaps this was not that bad. In the end, most everybody got what they really wanted despite it all, and went on with their life. A typical Hollywood ending. Really not that bad.
When did I start measuring things by “how bad they are not” instead of “how good they are?” I don’t mean to sound like a prude. Really, it’s quite the opposite. I’m reluctantly admitting I sometimes watch things on TV that I shouldn’t. It just kinda draws me in to its not-that-bad standard.
I wonder, if Jesus came now instead of over 2000 years ago, would he even own a TV? Would he find much of anything worth watching? Anything that would meet his standard? I doubt it. It’s not that good.
I read this morning about Joseph’s brothers. They traveled to Egypt to buy grain. When they got there, Joseph recognized them, but they did not recognize him. They bought their grain, then Joseph had their sacks filled and loaded on their donkeys . . . with a little surprise. Continue reading »
It’s the last day of 2009. A day when we reflect on the past year and make resolutions for the next one. A day when we all become acutely aware of the passage of time. What dopes we all are. Today is just one day. And while we are all settling back into a comfortable 2010, satisfied with a calendar full of pages, Life Happens. Don’t waste it.
I just hate it when the remote control for the TV is lost. I start yanking out sofa cushions, sliding furniture around and accusing family members of negligence. This scene played out this past Sunday night with an unexpected outcome.
One thing I have learned when going on a remote control search: Even if you have searched through the sofa and you are sure it’s not there, look again. It’s probably in the sofa. We lost the remote control for the VCR one time. It was missing for a year. We looked through the sofa multiple times during that year. Then, a year later, while moving the sofa, we found the remote. In the sofa.
Such was the case this Sunday night. As I fumed about the missing remote, Sam came down to help look. He started looking in the sofa. “I’ve already looked there,” I said with frustration. Knowing “the one truth about missing remotes,” he just kept looking in the sofa anyway. And sure enough, we finally found the remote . . . in the sofa. But not before finding a car key, a Fisher Space Pen, and a cell phone with eight missed calls on it.
I never promised that everything I write about will have some spiritual meaning. Perhaps this little incident was just what it was: A search for the remote control. But I was reminded of it this morning while reading about the Prodigal Son. He was lost, then found. Perhaps in some small way, the world is like a giant sofa. We are at times like the lost remote. And Jesus, like Sam, just keeps on looking in the sofa until He finds us.
Luke 15:24 ‘for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ . . .