March 25, 2005

-image-dogs are important, you know

All right. Go check out Blue Eyed Infidel and her li’l picture of dog and chick together. Read on to see how she relates it to the Terri Schiavo case. As a matter of fact, keep reading all her posts on this. Consider yourselves warned: She is foul-mouthed, but she shoots straight.

And, well, since dogs are still precious to us, check out this quiz, What Dog Are You? (H/T: The Anchoress)

And don’t despair; if someday someone decides you’re not human enough to live anymore, you can always tell them you’re also a German Pinscher, as I am. Or maybe you’ll get to be a Golden Retriever. But no worries. Whatever your outcome, your canine self will live for sure — with food, water, and probably even a nice, fluffy, doggie bed. So go take this test now and print up the results. You never know when you may need it as handy-dandy proof of your right to life.

Apparently, says the test, I will “bite first and think later.” Well, that does describe my mood — and many others’ — today. I’m all over the map. And, yeah, yeah, the other day I was champion of the “calm, reasoned port in the storm,” blah, blah. But I don’t feel that way today.

As we snuff out one helpless, imperfect, fallen life, in the name of freedom, does it make us more free? Or does it simply and horribly remind us just how helpless, imperfect, and fallen we all are? Jesus died to set captives free, but today, on Good Friday, during these “hours of darkness,” I’ve never felt more bondage to the fallen.

Oh, please come, Lord Jesus ….

Go read Psalm 142 — and pray for Terri, her family, and everyone involved in this tragic situation.

March 19, 2005

-image-the word, yo

All right. I wasn’t going to post this weekend, but I wanted to put this out there. Teflon over at Molten Thought is catching flak for his new Ten Commandments, written to parody what, he believes, is the dumbing down of the Word and the pandering to gender politics found in the newly released Today’s New International Version. Some commenters on his blog found his “commandments” racist.

Here they are:

1. I am the cool mack daddy of the dope hype flow. Give me props and mad respect.

2. Don’t be kneeling for some bling bling,

3. Don’t be throwing my name around, be it J. Hovah or Yah Diddy.

4. Yo, Sunday is “funday,” ya dig?

5. Respect your moms, your pops, or whoever it was raised you, unless they whack.

6. Thou shalt not bust a cap in someone’s ass.

7. Don’t be running around on people like they don’t know.

8. No five-finger discounts.

9. Don’t front.

10. If your neighbor’s got a fly crib or a pimped-out set of wheels, that’s they bidness, not yours.

Read the comment section over there, too. And, tell me, what do you think? Parody? Racism?

March 18, 2005

-image-just couldn’t say no

Okay. I couldn’t help myself. I found this quiz for youse: What Obsolete Skill Are You?

Hey — I won’t be posting this weekend, it’s kinda late, and I’m hopped up on pain meds from a wee procedure, so this is what you get — a lousy, lazy blogger giving you another illuminating quiz. Worse still, I simply cannot bring myself to tell you what my results were — yet. Put it this way: I’ll confess it if someone else gets the same result. And confesses it first. Yep. I’m a coward.

I should’ve stuck with Prioress.

March 11, 2005

-image-you gotta problem with that?

Here’s something I learned from my niece Piper last weekend. I share it with you to edify you, too.

Putting her to bed, I lie face to face with her, praying and talking a bit. Oh, and I hold her hand. She likes
that — uh, actually insists on it.

So the conversation went like this:

Piper: Gulls are moe special den boys, Tee Tee.

Me: Oh? Why is that?

Piper: Well, gulls have special fings.

Me: (Kinda hoping a kiddie anatomy lesson was forthcoming) Well, what things are those?

Piper: Well, gulls are sparkly and softie and boys are just haiwy.

Ah, truth ….

March 7, 2005

-image-getting what you need

My niece Piper was visiting us this weekend.  So I didn’t blog or really look at the blogosphere much.  And that was just fine with me.

Because I needed …. something else altogether.

I needed to twirl until I was dizzy, crazily spinning back time to when was four years old.

I needed to jump madly on the bed, my  bed, and not care one whit how messy it got.

I needed to blow bubbles in the park, giggling as she tirelessly chased them down across the wet, squishy grass.

Then I needed to watch, bursting with pride, as she gave the rest of her "bubble juice" to another little girl in the park who didn’t have any "bubble juice." 

I needed to lose every wretched, mind-numbing game of Candyland to a certain cherubic cheater.   

I needed to sit at the kitchen table with her, globbing paint on cheap little wooden gliders. 

Then I needed to comfort her when hers broke immediately thereafter, telling her she could have Tee Tee’s plane.

Then, again, I needed to console her when that one crashed into the monkey bars, shattering, after its ill-fated first flight in the park.

I needed to be enchanted as my beautiful friend, arms outstretched to Piper, led her to dance freely before the Lord during worship.

And I needed to dance with them.

I needed to run, run, run along the pier, faster than the waves, with the salt air sharp in my nostrils and the wind ferocious in my hair.

I needed to stand at ocean’s edge with her, breathless for the next insolent wave to soak through our properly rolled-up jeans.

Then I needed to stroll, unashamed, down the street in my soggy, sandy clothes, slurping up ice cream … with rainbow sprinkles.

I needed to laugh deliriously with her when the lazy Kodiak bear at the zoo finally roused himself from slumber only to relieve himself right in front of us.

I needed to run away from the pushy, icky goat at the petting zoo because, well, I’m afraid of goats.  But she isn’t, so she laughed at me.

I needed to give her "some pwivacy" when she showered.  And then be ready when she called for help 10 seconds later.

I needed to lie in bed face to face at bedtime while I stroked her arms and she chattered about her busy day.

Then I needed to tell her how much Jesus just adores her.

Then I needed, but didn’t know I needed, to have my four-year-old niece pat my cheek and say, "Tee Tee, you’re such a cutie-pie."

I needed to lose sleep as she snoringly slept on top of me — or glued to my back — no matter what I did or how I maneuvered.

But I also needed to sleep holding hands, like hobbits, because she likes to sleep that way.

And I needed to wake up the next day to her smiling, pillow-smushed cheeks to do it all over again.   

I needed to be something I may never be — a mom.  

Just a fleeting taste of that blessed, everyday sweetness.

And sweetness is a precious commodity in this place, in these times. 

So I need to keep thankfulness on my lips  … always … for sweetness such as this …

"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."  Psalm 107:1

March 2, 2005

-image-my “interview”

I volunteered over at Desperate Vision (actually, several days ago now) to continue the “Tag, You’re It” interviewing blog-a-thon. It’s a sort of blogger meet-and-greet — which I think is a good thing, a way to chip away at those cyber walls. So here are Amber Lynn’s questions to me — and my answers. ( I’ll say up front that I found a few of them hard to answer, but here is my best, honest attempt):

1. What is the one memory you would never want to lose?

So, admirably, right off the bat here, I’m gonna cheat because two things come to mind:

A trip to Montana with MB several summers ago. He was working on a promotional video for a ranch/resort and I got to tag along as his phenomenally indispensable “key grip” or “best boy-girl.” The deadline was tight and the client seemed to expect nothing less than a veritable Noah’s ark assortment of critter shots. And, you know, controlling God’s creation is harder than you might think. But the Lord had mercy — amazing mercy. We worked our bums off, but the shoot was done on time and the final product was extraordinary. (I say as the proud wife.) The whole experience being there was just exhilarating, exhausting, and jawdroppingly beautiful.

(And the part where I got a little too enthused about finally seeing the elusive Mamma and Baby Moose, jumped off the ATV, and started running giddily, stupidly, towards them? Uh, yeahhhh …. let’s pretend that didn’t happen.)

And my cheater-cheater second one?

A pivotal apology I received a few years ago from a fellow Christian. It came — not right away, not right after the offense — but over two years later, which actually made the apology that much more valuable to me, that much sweeter, because I knew the passage of time had made it that much harder for the person to apologize.

Because I grew up in a Christian family that did not proactively practice grace, this issue of apologizing, of seeking forgiveness, is a true touchstone for me. I can literally count on one hand the number of times someone has sought my forgiveness (outside the spousal relationship). But this believer, approaching me in person, just simply, eloquently, apologized and asked forgiveness. How can your respect for a person not skyrocket in the face of such immeasurable courage and humility? Those moments open a door for The Divine, for the Lord to come down and dwell in the midst of forgiveness sought, given, and received. It binds you together. It’s transformational. Because it’s the foundation of everything we believe. I will never forget it and I will always treasure it.

2. What do you like the most about yourself?

Ughhh …. hard. (But I’m sure most people would say that when asked.) After some thought, I say this: That I am sl-o-o-o-wly becoming better at seeking forgiveness in my own life — and not just from the Lord. Humbling ourselves before an Almighty God is a little easier than humbling ourselves before another flawed and fleshly human. But we’re called to do both. And the Lord has called me over the last while to crucify my flesh and seek forgiveness — no matter how painful, no matter what the outcome.

3. If you were going to go blind, what is the last thing you would want to see?

Ah, thank you, Amber Lynn, for an easy one! No brainer: My Beloved.

4. What calms you down?

Singing. Going for a long drive. Reading a Psalm. When MB holds me. There, that one was relatively easy. Phheww ….

5. Who is your role model or hero and why?

Another tricky one. Hmmm …. I don’t have one. (That possibly sounds pathetic. Ah, well.)
I find I admire specific characteristics that people possess, but, to me, having a role model or hero implies admiration and emulation of the total person. Haven’t found that in any one person, except for the Lord.

Thank you for the great questions, Amber Lynn. Made me work me noggin a bit, which I appreciate.

So here’s the deal, peeps. To keep the “Tag, You’re It” community of interviews alive, I now extend an offer to interview one of you. It works like this:

1. Leave me a note in the comments section saying “Interview Me.”

2. I’ll post some questions in my comments section for you to answer.

3. You’ll post those answers on your blog — hey, and let me know when you’ve answered, so I can come and check ’em out.

4. You will then include an offer on your blog to interview someone else with 5 original questions.

(Wow. Now I’m nervous that no one will say “yes” …. It’s like when we girls were supposed to ask the boys to that wretched Sadie Hawkins Dance. That freaked me out, too. So someone, have pit-eeee ….)

And don’t click on the “continue reading” link below, because thar ain’t no more! I just can’t make it go away. Well, I imagine I can, but I don’t know how ….

March 1, 2005

-image-a question —

A reader of this blog — let’s just call her Wonder Woman — and I have been having an energizing, edifying email conversation. I wish I could just put the whole darn thing up here — and I may post portions — but some of it’s just, well, too personal.

At one point, we pondered a question which I now put to you:

Is there such a thing as a Christian with no conscience?

I’d be interested in your responses ….

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