The Smoldering Soul

Overcast skies envelop my horizon

I enter into a stranger’s house

Comfortable enough, almost

To call my home

All the while Saints looking on

Begin to ask, “Why have you come to this house, dear friend?”

“To worship here with you, my brothers and sisters.” I reply

Hushed silence emanates from their mouths while casting wary, sideway eyes

I look around the brightened room

Wondering why the downcast

darkened faces

A war torn patriarch with hands held up

Stops me from speaking further

Your calloused heart in plain for all to see

Your soul is smoldering from

Warming your self by the fires of Hell

Listen to our tales

Of uncompromising, perseverance

The house is adorned with those who would not kneel

We have run the race and never ran from the battle

You dear boy, have yet to tie your shoes.

Whose side are you on? Where do you lay your head at night?

Your feet modeling untied shoes

Walk the fine line

Shall falter very soon.

The unmasked actor is hidden to none

In this room

Except the one playing the fool

Son your praises have fallen to the floor

The One worthy of worship

Does not adore the foul odor

Your false words store

Choose your side

Before the side chooses you

We would love to bathe you

scouring your charred remains

Cleansing you from the flames foul stench

Adorn and embrace you

With the brotherly kiss

Have you found your way home?

Or are you just paying a visit

Before you make your bed again near the infernos warmth

Can we help you tie your laces 

so you can join in the chase?

I bow my head and head out the door

Under the tempestuous skyline of rain and darkness

I wander out into the cold to warm my smoldering soul 

Next to the fire that brings no warmth

“Please dear Saints forgive and pray for my heinous heart and smoldering soul”

God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.

Crazy Calvin

This is a conversation I had with someone last year while I was camping with my family. I thought it was interesting at the time.

For the past three mornings, I would wake while there was still darkness in the sky and stars were slowly fading to take a five minute walk over to the only McDonald’s in town and get a coffee and a coke (the flavors together are sublime). This jaunt didn’t start out as a planned event. The first morning I woke up at 4:00 am with nothing to do, parched, and struggling in and out of sleep. I couldn’t get a drink out of the cooler because my cooler was in the Bear locker, and to open and shut the bear locker would involve banging and clanging that would wake the whole camp, and the camp was already beginning to show signs of revolt against my family for Faith’s early morning tirades (but that’s another story).

The second day, I went out of sheer survival mode. The night before, I went to sleep in my clothes (levi’s, socks, bulky flannel), a mummy bag, and a thick blanket that left me with night sweats. I told Kellee that all I probably needed was the thick blanket, but the funny thing about weather is that it always changes, so the second night it dropped ten degrees while I was wearing shorts and sleeping with only one blanket. I shivered throughout the night, but refused to admit defeat. So, I was up early again this time with a mission; to move my legs, so I could get the feeling back, and to get some hot coffee in my system.

The last morning, well now it has just become tradition.

Every morning was really the same pattern, start walking around 4:50, savor the fresh air, watch as the sunrises on the Mammoth Mountain, walk and gawk at the beauty, get to McD’s a couple minutes after opening, squint at the menu (my contacts are in the Bear Locker too) order my coffee and coke, sit down to be refreshed, go do my business, return for a refill, and head back to camp. That’s my order and I enjoyed the whole experience.

However, on my last morning Calvin interrupted my schedule; I was returning from doing my business, when I notice that I’m not the only customer in the establishment. Near where I’m sitting was an older gentleman taking his medication, who looked very much like Mr. Miyogi, except that his comb over is dyed jet black.

I go back to my seat and began to sip my coffee, when I hear him mumble something at me.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Are you going fishing?” He asks.

“No.” My answer is short and to the point because his question has only aroused bad memories of epic failed fishing adventures.

Well, why are you up so early?

So, I give him the condensed version of what I have just told you, “I was cold and couldn’t sleep.”

This lead Mr. Jet black haired Miyogi to give me some pointers on sleeping bag attire and lead to thinking this guy is really a nice guy and isn’t great to sit hear and converse with a fellow traveler.

Where are you from?

I tell him and he has never heard of the place, so I simplify and tell him its near LA.

Oh, I’m from Sacramento. I had to get out of there though. There’s a lot of Assholes in Sacramento. I had to get out of there. You know what I mean? Those guys that are assholes in Jr. High and High School and you think he would stop being an asshole when left school, but he isn’t,  he’s still an asshole. There are a lot of those guys out there. Man, there are a lot of assholes!”

The conversation is steered towards occupations and in particular mine. Usually, I don’t go hand out that sort of insight to people I don’t know very well, but it was five in the morning and I still didn’t have my wits about me. Besides, it was dyed, haired- comb over Mr. Miyagi. Maybe, if I had my contacts in I would have noticed that this wasn’t wax-on, wax-off, paint the fence, let me be a peaceful instructor Mr. Miyagi. Rather, this was Cobra Kahn, strike hard strike first Mr. Miyagi.

I work in a Hotel (I tell him my real occupation, but for the story will go with hotel).

Oh, you’re a hotel manager. Then you know about assholes. You must work with a lot of assholes.

I’m not sure if he is talking about my co-workers or clients, but I go along for the ride.

Yup, I’ve been around some assholes.

Do, you like your job.

Yeah, I really enjoy it.

Really, but you work with assholes!

Now the conversation goes down a weird twisted road:

You know in Sacramento there are a lot of assholes! There was one guy, he’s black, you know what I mean? He’s a ….(N- Bomb  dropped and my head does a slight rattle from the explosion). He wanted a ride, and told me he would give me ten bucks, but he never did. So, I told everyone in the complex to watch out from him. One day, he told me “Calvin I’m going to get you! He never did, but I was going to kill him.”

There was another guy from the south…have you ever met an Oakie?

Of course I have and in fact a friend of mine is from Oklahoma. But after the first little story and the fact that another man who looks like he might be from the Appalachians wonders over to join in the conversation, I simply tell him I don’t think I have.

Oh, those guys are weird. It’s just like the movie Easy Rider, when they beat peter Fonda’s friend with a baseball bat! Man, those people are really like that! I mean their crazy. I’ve been in a few Oakie Bars, and thought I should just stick them all in the heart, burn the place down, and be done with it.

Anyways there was one Oakie living in Sacramento who I gave two dollars too, he later ended up chasing me with a butcher knife. I mean those people are crazy. I had a friend offer to hold him down while I repeatedly stuck him with a knife until he died, but I thought, you know it’s not worth it.

At this point the Appalachian fellow who was looking for some delightful conversation found us too be a little unpleasant and politely excused himself, leaving me stuck with Maniac Mr. Miyogi.  And I re-examine my first sighting of Mr. Miyogi when I came out of the restroom. I think about the moment and him knocking back his pills and it hits me…. These are not old man medications! This guy is taking his daily psych meds. Man, I really let my guard down on this one. Now, I’m freaking out inside and trying to remain calm on the outside. I start thinking to myself, “Alright buddy, you really need to leave this situation but do so in a way that’s not going to get this guy flustered anymore than he already is, and leave on good terms.” So, I concede to myself, I might be here awhile.

In the meantime, Calvin is still angrily ranting with his revile and those who had offended him. “there was a guy who lived in my apartment and we were friends, but one day I was watching the Kings game and he just kept looking at me. Finally, I said what the F@#% are you looking at and we started arguing, so I told him he better stay away from me. I told the Managers of the home…”

Home?

Yeah, I was living in an assisted living place.

Anyways, I tell them, keep this guy away from me or I’m going to hurt him. I have the right to defend myself, right? So, I went out and bought some pepper spray, just in case. He stayed away for a couple of months, but one day he was we met on a stairwell. I know he was waiting for me. He came up really close and brushed up against me. I told him, “Hey, You were told to stay away from me.” But he just laughed. He was testing me. What would you have done?

Me? I would have done  exactly what you did and kept walking.

But you work in a Hotel! I should have pepper sprayed him and then stuck him in the heart, right? That’s what you would have done. I mean you use pepper spray in your hotel, right? So, don’t you think I should have sprayed him and then killed that asshole? When I get back there I think I'm going to find him and stick him in the heart, Do you think? Isn't that what you would do?

“No. No,  I think you did the right thing,” I try to reassure him.

My brain is working overtime, trying to find my moment, the right way to politely find my exit like the Appalachian did, when at that moment Kellee’s Uncle and cousin walk into the restaurant.

Oh, there’s my family, I’m suppose to meet up to go hiking. I gotta go.”

Alright, hey remember what I said about those sleeping bags, they have some great deals right now.”

The Balance of the Sacred.

I took my family to see the Richard Andrew Band at Harvest. During the show Faith and her cousin were up and down the aisles, crawling under and over the pews, as well as jumping on them. I finally, let out a line my dad had said to me when I was Faith's age and doing the same thing, "Faith, stop jumping on the pews! This is a church; it's holy and sacred. We are...." I then stopped mid sentence and looked around at the other concert goers. "Well it's a little hard to explain at the moment."

The Midnight Pascha

I love Easter. It's my favorite holy day. Because of this fact, I often try to make it as meaningful as I can for myself and my family. In the past, we've done the Sunrise Services, pancake breakfast, passion plays, walk through Jerusalem re-enactments, climbed Mt. Rubidoux, experienced a Lutheran Tenebrae, visited a Catholic Monastery to hear monks sing in Latin, and attended Messianic Cedar Dinners. This year, with some friends becoming Eastern Orthodox and the fact that my mom has always wanted to go to a candlelight service, I decided to partake in the Midnight Pascha Service at St. Andrews in Riverside, CA.. To, which, all I can really say is it was a profound and moving experience. Every other Easter Celebration now feels mundane in comparison.


 A word of caution, this by no means indicates that I am considering becoming a catechumen of the Orthodox Church. Maybe, at some future time, but as for now, I am simply an admirer of the beauty that the OC displays. 

To my Orthodox friends, I'm sorry if I have misrepresented any part of the service. 

I hope you enjoy reading about my experience as much as I enjoyed being there.

I enter alone; isolated in a room full of strangers.  They don’t feel like strangers tonight, though we’ve never met.  I have not been greeted or returned the blessing; though I am out of place there, I don’t feel that way. Tonight is different. It’s a grand celebration, a feast. The Feast of feasts.

As I walk up to the large heavy doors leading to the nave, there is a table outside with ladies selling candles. There are other candles offered, but these are hand painted and I argue with myself, whether I should purchase one or not and then I realize just what a miser I am. I tell myself “why not, it’s not like you do this everyday or for that matter ever. You should enjoy the whole experience. “ So, I pick one out,  it’s simple and yet, elaborate with spirals dots and a picture of Jesus bearing his cross. As I’m searching for the candle I want to bare, I over hear the man next to me tell the ladies he has only been to a service four times and never has he been to a midnight paschal service. The ladies exclaimed that he was in for a very exciting celebration. I smile along with the man and then tag along behind him. I figured we were in the same boat, we’re both watchers,come-arounds, so why not stay close.

We entered the nave, ten minutes early and already it was shoulder-to-shoulder standing room only. I’m sure they wouldn’t have it any other way. Most people stand throughout most of the services, so why should tonight be any different.

The room flickers and dances with the orange and red of burning candles, strewn around the room next to saints, a heavenly cloud of witness rejoicing with his servants on the Earth. A young man is reading in a very monotone script from the scriptures, though I can’t quite make out what it is he is reading

Then the candles are blown out. We stand in darkness. There is anticipation for the moment to be over, for the darkness to subside. But there is also great reflection and symbolism in the Darkness.

Behind the Iconostases there is still a dancing of color; the only light in the building. Then suddenly the Priest pulls back the curtains. He stands there with the Holy flame, lighting the way for all to see. The congregation filters into the aisle way to have their candle lit. I hear an usher whisper to the man next to me to go on up. I’m nervous, not sure if everyone is to go, I stepped forward and then back again a couple of times. I don’t want to impose where I’m not wanted. I should be an observer not participating. But the usher, nods at me and bids me to go up as well.

I never noticed before, but standing before this Priest , he looks like an Icon of Jesus. He is tall and sleander with a scraggly brown beard that has hints of gray throughout, shoulder length brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and deep brown eyes. Strange, a living replica of Christ holding the Holy flame. "Come ye and receive light from the unwaning light, and. glorify Christ, who arose from the dead"

I’m up before the people lighting my white candle with handmade decorations and my picture of Christ bearing his cross, to light from the Eternal Flame. I notice the wick is bent and broken. I’m freaked out. I’m bent and broken. What if it doesn’t light? I’m pleading with God and with my Candle “please light, please light, please light.” It takes a moment, but finally a minuscule flame unsteadily sparks forth. I walk back to where I was standing to the other observers, the other watchers, the come-arounds and light their candles from mine. I am the apostle of the come-arounds.

The church lit with candles, bursts into song. The angels in heaven, 0 Christ our Savior, sing of Thy resurrection. Make us on earth also worthy to hymn Thee with a pure heart.

The congregation files out into a procession, a crussesion,  lead by the Cross and incense and altar singers. Right outside the church, people are hitting the sematron, a wooden plank. It’s loud and noisy. It’s a call to prayer. Quietly we walk around the entire building. The symbolism is not lost on me. Christ is the light of the world; he has touched each and every one of us with his light that shines in us. We are now the light of the world to a darkened world.

The stark contrast of the world was not lost on me either. While slowly making our way around the building, on the street below was a car filled with college kids.  “I’m already drunk!” one of the passengers yelled. Then the music was bumping at ear ringing decimals “ F@#$ all these N@#$&” the song repeated and repeated.

Overlooking the street stands the church, a light on a hill: tonight a silent witness arrayed in the beauty, the glow of candlelight.

When the congregation stopped, here we stood, in front of the tall heavy doors. Mark 16, the gospel account of Resurrection Sunday, was read and then the church broke forth into a hymn. The choir leader starts off slightly above a whisper but grows with each time he sings the stanza until just under a guttural, throaty scream:

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death,

and on those in the grave bestowing life.

The Priest acts out Psalm 24 with a member of the church who is waiting inside.

Pounding on the heavy doors with his icon of the cross, he cries out,” Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.

With a deep thunderous voice, the unknown person responds, “Who is this King of glory?

Again the Priest hits the door three times and loudly cries out, “The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.

Who is this King of Glory?

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory?
The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory!

The church opens its doors to a heavenly whiteness. There are bells clanging, the choir and church is singing. The Priest is joyful, exuberant. He is walking; No, striding up and down the aisle way, censing the people and the icons while shouting Christ has risen! The Church is joyful, laughing, and replying just as loudly, "truly, he has risen!”

The sorrow is gone, the deep contemplation is gone, only an ecstatic elation that our Savior has risen and conquered death. This is a time for rejoicing, a time for the church to celebrate.

I walk out the door sometime after two-thirty in the morning and the service is still going strong.  This has been the Easter service I’ve been longing for throughout my Christian life.

Light Humor

First off I stole this joke. 

The light turned yellow, just in front of him. He did the right thing, stopping at the crosswalk, even though he could have beaten the red light by accelerating through the intersection.

Unfortunately, tailgating, Barbara was furious and honked her horn, screaming in frustration, as Barbara missed her chance to get through the intersection, dropping her cell phone and makeup.

As she was still in mid-rant, she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit her car with her hands up.

He took her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and placed in a holding cell.

After a couple of hours, a policeman approached the cell and opened the door. She was escorted back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects.

He said, ”I’m very sorry for this mistake. You see, I pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn, flipping off the guy in front of you and cussing a blue streak at him. I noticed the ‘What Would Jesus Do’ bumper sticker, the ‘Choose Life’ license plate holder, the ‘Follow Me to Sunday-School’ bumper sticker, and the chrome-plated Christian fish emblem on the trunk, so naturally….. I assumed you had stolen the car.”

15 or something like that

A Facebook thread went out tonight having you pick 15 movies that will always stay with you and you had to do it in 15 minutes or less to complete it. It was a little tricky because most the movies on my mind lately are ones that my daughters are watching over and over, thus Disney would have been the top 10. But here are the ones I picked and a little sentence or two as to why I did so. In the comment section feel free to leave your 15.

1. Empire Strikes back

     This was my favorite movie as a kid, probably still is to this day. It had great characters (All the OG's as well as Boba Fett, Lando, Yoda, Ton-Tons) and an amazing story line... what more do you want from a movie?

2. Dumb and Dumber

     I know many of you will disagree, but this was the funniest movie of my generation! I cried so hard my chest hurt throughout the entire movie. I know I went back atleast once more that first night, maybe twice. I think I saw this movie 10 to 15 times in one week (of course movie tickets were only $4 or $5 back then) and probably 30 times overall.

3. Happy Gilmore

      This might be a close tie for funniest movie of my generation. How do you not put a movie in your top 15 when you know every word of the entire movie (well I didn't put Nightmare Before Christmas- that was more of a fad). So many great lines.

4. Outsiders

     Not sure why this was on my top 15, but it was actually the first movie that came to mind. It was just a tough movie- Over the years it has continued to Stay Golden! Funny, how many kids I work with now have never even heard of this flick.

5. LOTR

     Peter Jackson actually brought Frodo and crew to life. For the most part what you read in the book is what you saw on the screen. Amazing.

6. It's A Wonderful Life

    I was a little surprised this made my list, but I watch it every year and try to hold back tears. One of the greatest Christmas movies ever made. 

7. Life is Beautiful

     I'm trying to think of any foreign films I had seen previous to this, I'm sure there is one or two, but really this was the movie that brought me to see the beauty of international films. 

8. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

      A tender, serious movie by Jim Carrey and he nailed it. You know a movie is good when it makes you evaluate the relationships you have with others.

9. Beauty and the Beast

     I watched this movie when I was 17 or 18 after a terrible Halloween. I was sitting at home alone and I noticed my nieces copy on top of the tv.  A friend of mine, Loved! I  mean Loved this movie, so I thought what's the harm. She was right. Afterwards my world was not so bad and I had a new love in my life... Belle. 

10. Saving Private Ryan

      The first scene of the troops storming the beach is why this movie made my list. I went with a friend of mine (she picked the movie, I had no  idea what it was about) to the Edwards Palace. All I remember was having to give her my hoodie so she could hide her face and cry. It was one of the first movies that actually made you feel like you where in the midst of the war... it was ugly and brutal.

11. The Matrix

       It was just such a weird movie, The special effects were amazing and the story was so extremely different than the movies that were out there.

12. The Wizard of Oz

       C'mon, it's the Wizard of Oz! I loved it as a kid, and my kids love it now. The movie has stood up against the test of time.

13. O Brother Where Art Thou

       Great music and a endearing tale. George Clooney's not my favorite actor, but he did a great job.

14. Spinal Tap

        Probably the greatest movie about music of all time. Extremely funny. 

15. Say Anything

        An intelligent 80's teen movie (I stole that from IMBD). Seriously, Llyod Dobler gave every average guy Hope! Maybe, that's not such a good thing though, I remember calling up my high school cheerleading crush.... it didn't go so well.

A Living Parable

I need to get something to eat, it's been eight hours since I had eaten and now I’m famished. My stomach was letting me know it’s not pleased with my neglect, grumbling at me in a deep angry bottomless growl. The streets of downtown are unusually quiet for a 2 am Sunday morning.  The bars are closing but, the crowds are not stumbling out. The all-night fast food drive thru’s are not packed with hungry bar hoppers, only littered with a car here or there. It’s unusual. It quiet, like a ghost town. Dead like a zombie movie.

I’ve been out too long, I should have probably been back at work five or ten minutes earlier, but I was enjoying the empty streets, the stillness of the lonely town with looming buildings casting night shadows. It was one of those moments where you just don’t want to go back to the monotony that awaits you. Somehow, I missed my mark. I missed my street. I hate one-way streets, I always forget they’re there.  Now, I have to drive down an extra block or two to get back to the right parking area.  Outside the passenger side window, I see something moving. Something becomes someone. On the sidewalk is sitting a homeless man with face looking towards the ground. Probably on any other night the man wouldn’t have caught my eye, but this was an early Sunday morning downtown that’s been neglected of throngs of college kids. The homeless man and me are the only people on the street. It’s eerie and uncomfortably strange.

As I pass by in my truck the man looks up, his face and gray chest-length beard are covered in blood as is the concrete and sleeping bag where he is sitting. He’s making silent moans, crying. It’s creepy. He looks like a zombie in this post-apocalyptic vacant night. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was feasting on the remains of another.  But he's not an undead-flesh eater, he's a man and someone had beaten this man to a pulp. Pummeled him on the sidewalk.

My foot taps the brakes to slow down and see if the man is all right, but before I can think clearly, my foot changes directions and hits the gas. I’m late getting back to work and I don’t feel like hearing my co-workers crap about taking too long, I rationalize to myself. I tell myself, he’s probably a drunk and picked a fight with someone. He probably deserved to get the crap beat out of him. I’ve seen his type too often and no doubt I’ll see him soon at my work. Besides, I have a burger and fries I need to attend to before they get cold.  

Back at work, my partner leaves to get his own lunch. I’m left in the cave, an empty darkened room  with nothing but my thoughts to keep me comfort and at the moment they are not doing a very good job. As I settle in, content eating my slightly unsatisfying sirloin burger and cold greasy fries, I am struck by one of those uncomfortable thoughts. A parable remembered. My head is visibly jolted from excruciating contemplation.  My soul is bleeding. I just became a living parable of un-neighborliness.

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

"What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?"

He answered: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

"You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live."

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"

In reply Jesus said: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side.  So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him.  The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.'

"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"

The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him."

Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."

I failed the test of kindness for a warm burger and fries. My heart sank in my own vileness. My broken and bruised spirit cried out silently for the mercy I could not offer, “ Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.”

I picked up the phone and called for someone to check on my neighbor.

NBA, NFL, or ....

Another Forward from work, not sure if it's true or not (I am highly suspect) but I figured I would pass it on anyways

GUESS WHICH ONE.......
 Even if you aren't a sports fan this is very interesting!

36 have been accused of spousal abuse

7 have been arrested for fraud

19 have been accused of writing bad checks

117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses

3 have done time for assault 71 repeat 71
cannot get a credit card due to bad credit 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges 8 have been arrested for shoplifting

21 currently are defendants in lawsuits,
and
84 have been arrested for drunk driving
in the last year


Can
you guess which organization this is?
NBA Or NFL?


Neither,
it's the 535 members of the
United States Congress

The same group of Idiots that crank out
hundreds of new laws each year
designed to keep the rest of us in line.

Being good

Groggily, I awoke from the deep black sleep. Something was cautioning me to get up, my Papa senses were tingling, just then I heard my wife’s voice calling for my daughter, “FAITH!!!! FAITH! FAITH!” It wasn’t the  get-over-here-your-in -trouble yell to which I’ve grown accustom. This was a frantic, sort of terrified scream.

I leaped out of bed, grabbed my jeans as I was running down the hall and somehow managed to slide into them before rushing out the garage door. I was worried because I could hear the worry in my wife’s tone. I went flying by Kellee to try and take control of the situation.  If you’re a parent you understand the fear that grips your heart. I was preparing for the worst; someone had taken my daughter, she was hit by a car, or that kind of thing. I saw nothing. The street was quiet this particular early afternoon, someone must have snatched her.

But before my suspicions could grow, my wife stopped me, “Oh, I’m sorry honey. I can’t find Faith but I think she’s over at Chuck’s house (the boy her age that lives across the street), I’ve already told her not to go over there.”

So, I stood in the middle of our cul-de-sac and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Faith Ann!!!! Get over here now!!!!” A couple of seconds later my daughter peered around the side of Chuck’s house with Chuck following close behind, her chocolate brown eyes doublewide. And she had that look all over her face. I could tell, because it’s one I’ve worn myself a time or two.

I wore the same expression when I was Faith’s age after my parents picked me up from my friends Halloween party where we snuck into the refrigerator and drank a couple of beers. When my parent’s asked, I couldn’t hide the face, I knew I couldn’t lie my way through the lagers.

I wore the same expression the summer before my 9^th grade year, in my summer fling’s backyard, making out in her pool while the parents were gone. When suddenly her Dad appeared and said he had been watching us for ten minutes. I knew I was guilty before the court, and as he told my friends and me, He was the Judge, Jury, and Executioner. I was guilty. Surprisingly though, he was more upset that my friends were jumping off the diving board onto his boogie boards than he was that I was smooching on his daughter.

Anyhow, Faith had the look written all over her face.  We went inside the house and I took my seat on the couch, smiled and very softly began to dialogue with my daughter.

"Did you know your mom told you not to go over to Chuck’s and to stay in our front yard?"

"Yes, Papa."

"So, why did you go over there when you were instructed not to?"

"I don’t know Papa."

"What were you doing on the side of chuck’s house?"

"Um….well, papa we were just talking?"

(Papa senses tingling like crazy!) "What were you talking about?"

"Ummm…about being good! Me and Chuck were just talking about how we need to be good Papa."

"Faith, stick out your tongue."

My daughter reluctantly agreed.

My eyes widened, my nose flared! I told her, “Faith there are huge bumps all over your tongue. You’re lying to me.”

This was an old technique my mom used to sniff out the lies before we knew better.

Faith's doublewide eyes enlarged even more. Now she was starting to shake a little. It probably helped that she had just recently watched Pinocchio.

I shook my head in disappointment, “Faith go to your room and think about what you’re telling me.”

Ten minutes later I called her back out, “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”

“Yes, Papa.”

What were you doing on the side of Chuck’s house.

"Well….ummm... Papa, I just… I just didn’t want you to know that we were not kissing."

"You were not kissing?"

 "Yeah, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know that we were not kissing."

"Why would you tell me you were not kissing? I didn’t say anything about kissing. Why would you mention kissing if you were not kissing?"

Sure, I knew the answer, but there was some enjoyment in seeing my daughter squirm through her web of deceit.

Faith looked flustered and confused. She couldn’t untangle this lie.

Kellee stepped in and took over, “So, Faith what you’re really telling us is that you and chuck were kissing."

"Yes."

"What kind of kissing were you doing?"

Every muscle tightened, I didn’t want to hear the answer, but it came nonetheless.

"The good kind."

Faith then proceeded to show us by puckering her lips and making a couple of smooching sounds.

Growing Up Without a Cellphone

This is a Forward I received last night at work. Kinda silly, kinda true.

If you are 30, or older, you might think this is hilarious!
 
When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were. When they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning.... Uphill... Barefoot.... BOTH ways… yadda, yadda, yadda 
 
And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it!  

But now that I'm over the ripe old age of thirty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today.  You've got it so easy!  I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!   
And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't know how good you've got it!
 
I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have the Internet.  If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the damn library and look it up ourselves, in the card catalog!!   
 
There was no email!!  We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen!   Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, and it would take like a week to get there!  Stamps were 10 cents! 
 
Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents beat us.  As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission to kick our ass! Nowhere was safe! 
 
There were no MP3's or Napsters or iTunes!  If you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself!
 
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up!  There were no CD players!  We had tape decks in our car...  We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished, and then the tape would come undone rendering it useless.  Cause, hey, that's how we rolled, Baby!  Dig?
 
We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting!  If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal, that's it! 
 
There weren't any freakin' cell phones either.. If you left the house, you just didn't make a damn call or receive one. You actually had to be out of touch with your "friends". OH MY GOD !!!  Think of the horror... not being in touch with someone 24/7!!!  And then there's TEXTING.  Yeah, right.  Please!  You kids have no idea how annoying you are. 

And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was!  It could be your school, your parents, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, the collection agent.. you just didn't know!!!  You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!

We didn't have any fancy PlayStation or Xbox video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics!  We had the Atari 2600!  With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'.  Your screen guy was a little square!  You actually had to use your imagination!!!  And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen... Forever!  And you could never win..  The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died!  Just like LIFE! 

You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing!  You had to get off your ass and walk over to the TV to change the channel!!!  NO REMOTES!!!  Oh, no, what's the world coming to?!?!
 
There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning.  Do you hear what I'm saying? We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons, you spoiled little rat-finks!

And we didn't have microwaves..  If we wanted to heat something up, we had to use the stove!  Imagine that!    

And our parents told us to stay outside and play.. all day long.  Oh, no, no electronics to soothe and comfort.  And if you came back inside... you were doing chores!  

And car seats - oh, please!  Mom threw you in the back seat and you hung on.  If you were lucky, you got the "safety arm" across the chest at the last moment if she had to stop suddenly, and if your head hit the dashboard, well that was your fault for calling "shot gun" in the first place!  

See!  That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled rotten!  You guys wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1980 or any time before!

Regards,
The Over 30 Crowd   

My Daughter the Graduate

Well, we have finally achieved our high hopes and dreams for Faith's future! Of course you should know this was not her first choice, she remind me again that In-N-Out is really only the second best option in her life, "Their cheeseburger is good, but not as good as McDonalds."

Hit the PAVEMENT Running

I'm probably the last person to find out, it usually works that way, since I know longer read many music magazines, but did you know Pavement is doing a reunion tour???!!! I found out the other night while  perusing an old Rolling Stone Magazine floating around my work. Tears almost flooded my eyes. I've loved this band since I was 16 or 17 years old... but then again isn't everyone saying that these days? Still, I remember going to the Mad Platter in Riverside an purchasing Slanted and Enchanted for my 17th Birthday. That album has never let me down, it's one of the few that is still on a rotation of albums that I play so often.

You couldn't imagine my ecstasy when I found out the great news. I was giddy all night just thinking about finally getting to see one of my favorite bands from my tween years. Alas! only one California venue to catch them before they vanish for another 10 years and leave me once again in the purgatory of Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks.

Of course, I thought this would be a breeze getting my wife to sign off on a weekend getaway, but when I brought up the indisputable facts this was a PAVEMENT reunion tour, a must see event, my wife looked at me quizzically and asked "Whose PAVEMENT? Have you ever played me any of their albums"

GRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

I guess it's my own fault. I did not push PAVEMENT they way I pushed Jawbreaker upon my wife.

Bad News

The other day my wife was sitting on the couch watching TV when my daughter came in a sat down beside her.

"What are you watching?"

"The News" my wife replied.

"Oh good! Now, I can learn about bad people!"

 I forgot to ask her what news channel she was viewing,  but my guess is it was FOX. ; o)

Political Cartoons

A WITNESS IN THE WORKS

"Aaron, are you even saved?", inquired a concerned pastor.

"Do you still believe in Christ? In his Resurrection? Do you still trust in him for your Salvation?"

I was on the brink, drifting so far to sea. I wondered if the current was too strong, if I would ever get back to land. 

Yet, when those questions were vaulted my way from a Pastor ready to hand down the sentence of Apostate, I was able to respond to him and to myself in the affirmative, only finally settling those questions a day or two prior. When I had given it a hard look and searched deep within, I had concluded that my Faith was indeed real. Funny though, it wasn’t what I thought would allow me to see my foundation. I wasn’t convinced by reasons and arguments. The Kalaam Cosmological Argument did not persuade, The moral argument didn’t steer me back to the right path, it was simply my life in Christ. The matter was settled by simply looking within. I have communed and experienced God in a profound way and that I could not deny. I know this won’t persuade anyone, it is not meant to, this little tidbit was for myself. It’s personal, intimate. 

But this is not the reason for this post. 

Maybe, he was frustrated with my quiet demeanor, my silent shrugging defensiveness, or maybe the Pastor was just holding up a mirror of words for me to see the state I was in, he continued his questioning… to my surprise. 

“Well, then what are you doing for the Lord? What good works can you point to, to show you are a Christian? I mean, James says even the Demons believe. What works are you doing?”

It hit me hard, like being whacked over the head with a scriptural sledge hammer. 

I’m sure I smirked.  Offered a little grin, even a slight huff to go on the side. I normally do when something strikes me. 

Meeting two days, in two weeks, something finally struck a chord, probably not the way the Pastor intended. I mean I knew I had been drifting for the past year or two, into the gray.  I knew there was nothing empathic I could point to for his assurance, or for mine. I could point to the distant past but nothing of recent value. In a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately worldview, I had fallen from the bandwagon.

Yet it wasn’t my failures of performing good works that left me pondering and maybe I’m not sure what hit me so profoundly. I mean, I had heard that type of questioning before, surely I had even given the speech once or twice. Maybe it was simply the irony of a reformed pastor now questioning my salvation based upon good works.

I suppose I realized just at that moment how important good works truly are in the Christian Life. As Protestants, I often think we like to slice and dice theology a bit too much, to dissect every fine point. Maybe we go too far. Heresy to suggest, I know. 

We proclaim loudly and with vigilance: Salvation is by faith alone!  Unless you’re on the threshold of apostasy, then we cry out something strangely different. By God, it’s faith alone with actions to show your faith alone. I know, I know of the perfectly dissected theology behind it. Justification comes by faith. Works do not save us, they bear witness on whether we are actually saved, as part of the sanctification process. Maybe when scrutinized this is indeed God’s process, but from a human standpoint, it’s awkward. 

On a side note: it’s funny, the only time scripture speaks of Faith Alone is to say that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone (James 2:24). 

But then something happens, we see those around us falling by the wayside or turning their back altogether. What do we do with those people who are living in sin, others who leave the faith and deny Christ? Where do they fit into our paradigm? Our best response is that they were never saved. They pretended to be saved. 

Maybe that’s true of some. Most. But they were all pretenders?  

On the other hand there’s the camp that says they’re backslidden, but Christ will bring them back. Even if they live out the rest of their days in a life of rebellion.  Who, like me, have nothing to show for it, will in the end be saved, because at some point they stood up at a crusade.

Sure. Possibly. I don’t know. 

I do like the little bit of what I have heard from Orthodoxy on the subject. To ask them if they are saved is asking the wrong question. As I understand Orthodoxy, it would probably be more proper to ask are you being saved. They are working out their salvation with fear and trembling. Faith and works. There seems to be a fuzziness between  justification and sanctification, a blurring of the clearly dissected protestant lines. 

Sounds strange at first. But what I like is this: in the blurring it becomes clear that I don’t know. I’m not quite sure how God works. I mean I know about justification, sanctification, and glorification, but how God is dealing with me or anyone else in a personal spiritual realm, well I can’t give you a point by point breakdown.

On the other hand, from a human perspective, I can tell you our life is not about a one time commitment, but a life communing with the true and living God. Salvation is played out in a life with Christ, a life in Christ. For the Reformed we call it perseverance or a Lordship issue, for the Catholic and the non-denominational alike, it’s Abiding. It's separate ways of looking at the issue I suppose, from the outside looking in or from the inside looking out. The human perspective verses God's panorama.

For me, for now, the issue is not the theories or theological distinctive, but a life well lived.  At the end of the day, at the end of my life I desire what I think all christians do... to hear the words from the lips of our Lord, "Well Done, good and faithful servant."

Cartoons of the day

ABC (Anyone but Christians)

Besides, loving political cartoons, I also enjoy the ocassional forwarded emails. Here is one I recieved last night. I thought for sure this was another one in a long list of hoaxes being spread around, the kind to rile up the christian community, but alas! I was wrong. I checked Snopes. com this morning and found this exchange did take place, though it didn't come from the programming department. Here is the explanation from Snopes

http://www.snopes.com/politics/religion/practice.asp

Jim  Neugent

 A  Coach In Childress , Texas

Writes  To ABC Network
Jim  Writes:

My  name is Jim Neugent. I wrote to ABC (on-line) concerning a  program called 'THE PRACTICE.' In last nights episode, one  of the lawyer's mothers decided she is gay and wanted her  son to go to court and help her get a marriage license so  she could marry her 'partner.' I sent the following letter  to ABC yesterday and really did not expect a reply, but I  did get one.

My  original message was:

ABC is obsessed with the subject  of homosexuality. I will no longer watch any of your  attempts to convince the world that homosexuality is OK. '  THE PRACTICE' can be a fairly good show, but last night's  program was so typical of your agenda. You picked the  'dufus' of the office to be the one who was against the idea  of his mother being gay, and made him look like a whiner  because he had convictions. This type of mentality calls  people like me a 'gay basher.'

Read the first chapter of Romans  (that's in the Bible); and see what the apostle Paul had to  say about it...... He, God and Jesus were all 'gay bashers'.  What if she'd fallen in love with her cocker spaniel? Is  that an alternative life style? (By the way, the Bible  speaks against that, too.)
--Jim Neugent

Here  is ABC's reply from the ABC on-line webmaster:

How  about getting your nose out of the Bible (which is ONLY a  book of stories compiled by MANY different writers hundreds  of years ago) and read the declaration of independence (what  our nation is built on), where it says 'All Men are Created  equal,' and try treating them that way for a change!

Or better yet, try thinking for yourself and stop  using an archaic book of stories as your lame crutch for  your existence. You are in the minority in this country, and  your boycott will not affect us at ABC or our freedom of  statement.

Jim Neugent's second response to  ABC:


Thanks for your reply. From  your harsh reply, evidently I hit a nerve. I will share it  with all with whom I come in contact. Hopefully, the   Arkansas Democrat  Newspaper will include it in one of their columns and I will  be praying for you.

- -Jim Neugent- - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Note: Wouldn't  Satan just love it if people stopped using the Bible for a  crutch?
Please resend this to everyone in your mailbox.

Jim  Neugent


I  wonder if the person from ABC considered how many people  would eventually read this e-mail!

Please,  if you are a Christian, pass this on to others so they may  be aware.

WE  NEED TO SAVE WHAT WE HAVE LEFT OF THIS  COUNTRY!