Do it again, Daddy!

Yesterday as I was waking up, I peeked my eyes open and the first thing to greet me was the morning outside. My bedroom faces east and I leave my shade open a crack at the bottom just for mornings such as these. I opened my eyes all the way and reveled in the beauty just outside my window.

The sky was a clear, bracing blue marred only by sparse wispy white clouds. Poking up just far enough to be part of the scene, was the aspen tree with shimmering, dancing leaves, reflecting the fresh sunshine. The beauty of the morning was consuming; I could hardly drink it in enough to be adequate. From the recesses of my mind, fighting the morning cobwebs, came forth the first thoughts upon awaking: The heavens declare the glory of God.....

What a way to wake up! From the glory of God being declared and trumpeted by such a morning - in the heavens - visible to all, to my first thoughts in recognition of such an assertion. I note that I had no power within myself to concede such thoughts.

As I continued to just lie in bed, marveling at the morning display, I flung my hand over to the side of my bed where my Bible sat. Hoisting it over to myself (why are Bibles so heavy in the morning??), I flipped it open to Psalm 19.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
In them he has set a tent for the sun, which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber, and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy. Its rising is from the end of the heavens, and its circuit to the end of them, and there is nothing hidden from its heat.
The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple; the precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes; the fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever; the rules of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

These were just parts of the chapter that I was specifically meditating on yesterday.

I regretted the time that I had to spend in rushing around, getting ready for work. Also, it's a dangerous thing to be amazed at the handiwork of God while driving...

Last night, after a very encouraging and wonderful time with some of the small group gals, Jen2 and I were talking (late into the night). A full range of topics were covered in our discussion, including child-like faith. Unreserved dependence and unabashed confidence in God. Last night, I went to sleep, asking for child-like faith and asking that I might wake up to full appreciation and thankfulness to my God for His mercy.

This morning, after hitting the snooze button a couple times and resetting my phone alarm (I can reset that thing without ever opening my eyes. I know, scary thought), I finally cracked my eyes open. I looked out to the sky, visible from my window. It was overcast, gloomy, foggy and gray. Clouds had just settled over the earth and were setting up camp. It wasn't exactly the beginnings of a gloriously bright and beautiful day. But I smiled to myself as the latter half of Nahum 1:3 was sparked to memory.

His way is in whirlwind and storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet.

Ha! Ha! He did it again! God not only awakened me a believer this morning, but let the first thoughts form in my mind to settle on His greatness. May I cling to this gratefulness like a small child - awed at the simple pleasure of being my Father's.

If only Heidi had a blog...

As she doesn't (and doesn't plan on getting one anytime soon), I told her that should she ever have any "bloggy" thoughts, she could feel free to sound off on mine. This is the first of what I hope is many more installments of "Heidi's Thoughts."

I was out over lunch today trying to enjoy late August for what it is (I miss the heat and humidity!) and found that I was able to do so. Thanks for appreciating the coming of fall, Jen. I've always said that since I complain about the cold I'm not allowed to complain about the heat, but why complain about any of it? God made all the seasons knowing what they would be, didn't He? I always love the transitions...the first buds of spring, the first smells of grilling and cut grass of summer, the changing of the leaves, and the magical first snow. But as the seasons wear on, I let my mind forget the beauty. I suppose in the same way I get annoyed with situations in my life that go on and on, forgetting that God knows, hears my prayers, and lets them continue anyway.

Fare thee well, Ol' Rusty

A lone, emo tear runs down my face as I contemplate what I just did.

I just returned Ol' Rusty, my surfboard of one? two? years. Actually, it was an old school longboard. About twice my size, wooden core, the back of the fin went straight down (instead of having any curvature), old faded coloring, and it desperately needed a new waxing. But I loved it.

I would stick it in my pool and as I was teaching myself how to surf. Yes, that's right. Here in landlocked Minnesota. No, I'm not kidding. Much of surfing is learning balance and building up arm strength for paddling - and you don't need waves to learn either of those. Plus, Minnesotans are known as the most hardcore surfers of the world! Don't think you can surf in good ol' M-N? Think again.

It's a little place I lovingly call "Lake Superior." It's true that few surfers venture up there to surf, but they can be found! It's actually a prime place for wave-hunting. Swells can reach up to 13 feet (and this is on a lake!). However, the reason for the minimal number of these surfers, is that the season for surfing in said body of water is October through March.

Yikes.

Hot cocoa, anyone? The water temperature can reach as low as -12 degrees. I have a friend (who's actually been in Surfer magazine) who is one of the elite Superior surfers. He's regaled me with tales of water so cold that your face feels like it's going to fall off, and of getting out of the water cased in ice - the board, their faces, their wetsuits. Crazy.

Anyway, all that to say, I will miss the bragging rights of one of the few Minnesotans to own a longboard...

Question of the Day

"How long do you think a roll of frozen cookie dough will last in a car?"

-Gretch

This is probably not funny in the least bit, but it really hit my funny bone at just the right angle today....

Don't even get me started on this...

So...Tim beat me to it.

I had been thinking for quite a while now about reviewing or plugging for the Valley of Vision CD. I mean, I do nearly have all the lyrics memorized by now, and I've had it--what?--two weeks now? Never mind; maybe that's not too impressive.

But in all seriousness, this CD is absolutely enrapturing. It was in my car stereo for an indefinite period of time and it played through, wrapped around, played through again, repeated as necessary. I had to keep telling myself, Jen - take the CD out now! You're going to get sick of it. Now! Hit the button. Eject. It's right there; that's it... Noooooo, it doesn't matter that the next song just came on! I know, I know; it's one of your favorite songs of all times - but seriously? It's going to get old; I can guarantee it.

I finally made the move two days ago. I jabbed the eject button before the strains of music wafted through my speakers for the next song. And I haven't been able to put a different CD in after it. The CD currently sits right next to me in my cup holder, and every time I get in the car I see it and think, I can just stick it in now...listen to it one time through. I won't get sick of it... (Yes, I do know that it would end up not being one time through the compact-disc; that's why I haven't acted on my thoughts.) But you know, after work, I plan on following through with it. I'm just going to stick it in!

And it all started so innocently when JoAnna plugged for the Valley of Vision book, which prompted me to re-buy it (funny story there) and start reading it. I was hooked! Then Frank divulged the information that there was a CD coming out soon, with the songs written off the Puritan prayers. Thanks, team!
And, there ya have it. Buy both of them. They both come highly recommended!

Fun Fact of the Day

Velveeta is one molecule away from being vinyl.


As quoted from my dear friend, Heidi,
"I wouldn't want to raise my kids on that! 'Here, grow up on plastic.'"

Nice.

Turn Signals

They are so passé.

No one uses them anymore. They have simply become superfluous. If you're driving, and your driving becomes an impediment to another driver because of a planned turn or lane-shift, whatever you do, don't use your turn signal! You'll only look old school. And not the kind of old school that's so "in" right now either. You'll look dowdy, and there's nothing like flipping on the turn signal to immediately classify you to all drivers within visual range as a "square."

Who wants to be a square these days??

It's alright; there is hope for those left in the dark days of blinking car lights and courtesy. It may be hard to pull yourself out of the rut (particularly if you're accustomed to adhering to the unwritten rules of Minnesota Nice - but no one told you? Those times are quickly fading into the oblivion of past glory).

Here, I have compiled a 5-step program - free of charge! - to combat that ghastly stereotype, "Square Signaler."

1. Depending on your level of confidence of delving into this foray of New Driving Techniques, you'll want to proceed cautiously. Not too cautiously, mind you, because that would defeat the whole purpose, now wouldn't it?

2. As a beginner, first note how, as you start to contemplate a lane-change, your movements become more attentive to the traffic immediately surrounding your car. You crane your neck around to check for a vehicle immediately to the side of your car; you may lean forward to check side mirrors for any blind spots you might have missed; your hand reaches out for the turn signal and--stop there. Don't do it. And relax, already. Glancing into side mirrors should do it, and you may either glide into the adjoining lane or swerve in. It's dependant on your confidence level, assertiveness, and the year of your car model.

3. Once you have worked your way up to that point, and feel comfortable with moving forward, the next step is rounding right-corners - particularly those corners that are unadorned with "right turn lanes." The trick to these is to just slow down. This takes a certain amount of finesse. If the corner has a stoplight and the light is green, you may get a few looks, but down worry about those. They're probably from those squares that you're now disassociating yourself from. So just slow down, and kind of creep around the corner slowly. This may take a while to get the flow of it. Be patient.

4. On a much more advanced level - one that I've seen executed rather infrequently, and only then by sheer professionals - is the left turn across on-coming traffic without a turn lane or exclusive arrow light. To not use a turn signal while waiting for an opening in on-coming traffic while a line of cars wait behind you, confused as to what the hold-up is, would be considered truly heinous merely a few years ago. But that was then, this is now. As you sit there waiting for an opportunity to turn and you start feeling a twinge of compunction for stopping up the farthest left lane of the street, you may inch forward into the intersection. That will give the cars behind you--who pulled up a little too close to you that they can't get into the other lane--an occasion to get around you. If you choose not to do that, that's fine too. It's completely your prerogative.

5. You would think we've covered everything there is to cover, but wait; there's more! To make a complete transition from prude to rude--I mean, hip--you must shirk the turn signal mind-set. Thus, in reverse method, if while in traffic and someone is waiting to merge into your lane directly in front of you and they happen to have their turn signal on, you must ignore it. They obviously don't want it bad enough, otherwise they would have followed this 5-step program and just swerved into the lane. If they try to weasel their way into the lane thinking their turn signal gives them some sort of allowance or understanding, honking at them might encourage them in the direction of self-improvement.

I hope working through these few steps will help you in looking cooler and feeling a little more free-spirited behind the wheel. Just always remember:

Blinkers: they're a thing of the past.

What's black and yellow and sure to sting?

I hate bees.

With a passion.

I'm not technically allergic or anything, but I have a morbid hatred of the little buggers - when I see one, or worse yet, when one dares to fly within a three-foot radius of me, terror strikes my heart. Bring out the smelling salts.

Over my lunch breaks, I like to spend the time in the Word, in quiet fellowship with God. And as today was absolutely breath-takingly beautiful, I made sure to find some place outdoors. So I headed in the direction of Centennial Lakes - and it was simply lovely there today. I found a table right on the water but just as I was getting settled, I noticed a lone black and yellow pest buzzing around my table, around me, around my Bible (who did he think he was?)!

My heart sank because I knew: it was a table covered, no doubt, with "bee-food," or remnants of food left behind by the last occupants, and he was sure to be flying around me for the entirety of my lunch break. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate and submit myself to God's Word - I was going to be reading with one eye constantly roving, keeping watch for The Bee.

Suddenly realizing this as the distraction it was, I prayed earnestly that I would not be distracted from my reading and praying, that either the bee would stay away from me while I was at the table or that my focus would not be thwarted by the afore mentioned stinger-adorned flying insect. God was mighty to close the ravenous lions' mouths in the presence of Daniel; He's sovereign over something as...dinky as the flight of bees.

As I started reading, I noted no distraction. The bee was nowhere to be seen; my heart swelled in thankfulness. Soon after this realization however, I heard the two little girls at the next table over started to shout. "Shoo! Shoo, bee!! SHOOOO!! Go away, bee! Shooooo!!!" they screamed. As their mother tried to calm their excited exclamations by explaining that bees don't have ears, I smugly smiled to myself, thinking, Heh heh heh. I prayed about the bee bothering me, and now, ahh. No bee. And now I'm reading the Bible without any disturbance. Ha!

How revolting.

The thoughts had hardly formed in my mind when a bee zipped past my face and hovered over my table. How easily and sneakily can the sin of pride weasel its way in to take hold of a heart. I mean, c'mon - I was reading the Bible and I had prayed....and I was proud of that.

And by the sweet power of the Holy Spirit, I was convicted as I realized that, just as I wouldn't be able to fully submit myself to reading God's Word and concentrate with the distraction of the bee right there, similarily I wasn't going to be able to do likewise with the hinderance of pride in my heart.

I repented and spent my lunch break reading about boasting in our weaknesses...

A perspicacious observation

This morning, after church, a friend and I were meandering around our church's bookstore, and I was telling him about fundraiser opportunities for my hockey team. In speaking of one, he mentioned 'that would be good blogging material!' I readily agreed.

I think it was at that moment that we turned and looked at each other - both noting what was just realized.

Our lives are appraised by the bloggableness of each occasion.

Yes, I thought our conversation from this morning was quite bloggable...

Beauty?

Here at work, we never seem to tire of talking about hair, hairstyles, or anything pertaining to such. (I work with mostly women, in case you were curious.) Today was no different. We have a woman in our department, we'll call her Ronia, who will be going to have her hair cut tomorrow - she's nervous about it. As she was standing in my cubicle, leaning against my file drawers, we were talking about her upcoming appointment and how she might like it styled.

Only briefly into this discussion, she stated disdainfully, "I'm going to tell him to cut it no shorter than my jaw line - I don't want it short like yours! I don't want to look like a boy! ...I want to be a woman." She scrunched up her nose and snickered like she had just said something quite clever. I forced a tight smile. After replaying this a few times in my head, I cannot - for the life of me - ascertain whether she deliberately insulted me to my face or if the remark was said in sheer ignorance of the implication.

This is not the first time I've had a "'boy' quip" aimed in my general direction. And from as many times as I can remember, they're only generated in reference to the way I keep my hair. And the funniest thing - despite having heard nearly every variation of insult, it never ceases to be very hurtful.

All I can do is sigh dramatically and jab my finger in the direction of Proverbs 31:30 - I don't know what version I memorized, but it says beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

But far sweeter than even that for which my response is utmost thankfulness, is the fact that when God looks on me, all He sees is the beauty of Christ. He does not see the ugliness of my sinful heart which is far more repulsive than any "male-like veneer" I may or may not possess. No; for having been covered by the precious blood of Jesus, I have escaped the wrath of God I'd earned.

And while I was thinking about death yesterday, this was the passage on which my thoughts were dwelling. I think it's even greater in light of the events of today.

1 Corinthians 15:42-49

So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. Thus it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being”; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit. But it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so also are those who are of the dust, and as is the man of heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.

Paul sure knows how to throw down

1 Corinthians 15:33-34

"Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.” Wake up from your drunken stupor, as is right, and do not go on sinning. For some have no knowledge of God. I say this to your shame."

Dude.

....


This is a cool one - check out those prepositions:

1 Corinthians 8:6

"...yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist."

Whoa, yeh??

This voice she hears in the fields, in the sough of the wind among the trees, when measured and distant sounds fall upon her ears.

-- Ernest Renan, The Poetry of the Celtic Races
It has such a lilting, wistful sound, doesn't it? It's simply beautiful. It stirs the Romantic heart in me.

Ironically, I found this - sentence? poem? line? - at dictionary.com in their word of the day archive. I'm a Nerdy Romantic.

...Exegesis, anyone?

While reading Matthew 16:24-25 or Luke 9:23-24, where Jesus is saying "take up your cross and follow me...," I always just blew right past it. "Yeah, yeah, take up cross, gotcha." But a few months ago, while reading this, I realized - or rather wondered - to what extent Jesus was saying this.

As we current-day, 21st century, American (Gentile) Christians read these passages, we know what it means - Jesus took up his cross and died for our sins, so we need to, likewise, take up our crosses and daily follow him sacrificially. Yeah, good. But when Jesus was saying these words to his disciples, he hadn't died on the cross yet. And he was telling these Jews to take up their crosses?! Crosses certainly weren't a symbol of God's love and mercy to believers at that time – and weren’t an example of the sacrificial work of Jesus--yet. They were...the crudest, most grotesque, and vile of all punishments of the day. They were used as a mockery and to make an example of foul criminals along the road.

BUT

A couple weeks ago, my pastor in a sermon instructed us to "read the Gospels backwards," to keep in mind the end while reading everything preceeding the end of each book, as that is what each of the four books is pointing to from the beginning - ultimately when Jesus the Christ would be sacrificed as the Spotless Lamb... So in doing so, it would seem to completely obliterate this deliberation.

I'm just curious if the mind-set of the disciples in hearing, and those reading these words, "back then" would have any influence on how we should be reading the words currently...

Now Jesus had just been telling them in the few preceding verses that he was facing impending suffering and death, but that he would be raised again on the third day. He may or may not have said explicitly anything about a cross, but either way, Peter wasn't too happy about the prospect as it was, forgetting his place as disciple and rebuking Jesus, his rabbi.
_______________

As was characteristic of the day, there were multiple rabbis running around Israel, thus there were multiple disciples of other rabbis. (As an aside - when I was little, I thought the word 'disciples' was to be strictly adhered to as followers of Jesus...I always thought it scandalous that John the Baptist had disciples. Ha.) Arduous work went behind being able to even become a disciple of any rabbi and when the sufficient amount of schooling and learning had transpired, and students had "interviewed" with a rabbi they admired, if said rabbi wanted to accept them to be one of his disciples, he would say the words "Follow me." Thus began the journey of close pursuing and copying of the rabbi. Everywhere he went, everything he did, his disciples desperately wanted to go and do. A saying of the time was "May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi." Meaning, may you follow so closely, the dust being kicked up by his sandals cake to your Bible-time dress thingy with a sash...or whatever they wore back then.

All that to say, when Jesus says "take up your cross and follow me...," was he specifically using those words to invoke their recollection of him calling them to be his disciples and to say, 'as my disciples, you'll be following me to death - one even of humiliation and suffering, as you should expect, even pursue by way of denying yourself to come after me'?
_______________

Any thoughts either way on this? Should the history and setting be considered while reading these words or since we already do know what happens, should we be reading these words as already "knowlegable" of the end? Hmm...

Quote book!

When I was about six-years-old, my mom wrote down a conversation between my younger sister and me. Here's what she wrote:

The girls were talking in the back of the van...
Emily - "When I grow up I'm going to be seven!"
Jennifer - "When I grow up I'm going to be a queen, a nurse, and a mom."

Oh, isn't he cute??

"DRA-GON! I don't do that tongue-thing."

Ahh, Mushu. The little dragon from Mulan. He is now the name sake for my new little Japanese fighting fish.

It was a lovely day going and getting him yesterday.
I took many pictures (big surprise) but if I post them, they're all going to appear out of order (thank you blogger)...

He is the most brilliant blue/torquoise/with shimmery holographic-looking green/aquamarine/unbelievable explosion of color fish I have ever seen. And he has little red fins in front. He was the prettiest fish of the bunch!

I got him a little black bush-thing with silver tipped leaves.

I also nearly killed him within three minutes of owning the poor little thing. Ha, lovely.

I just plopped him into a big bowl of cold tap water. Good heavens. (Not good.) So I had to rush into the kitchen at work at scoop him out with a styrofoam cup and purify the water and then dump him back in.

You know, it seemed much more eventful while it was happening...

A Bit of This and That

Yesterday, my entire office building, along with a couple blocks in either direction, was completely devoid of any artificial lighting. Or electricity at all. On my way to work, I had briefly noted that none of the stoplights were working. I went into to work and it was dark! It was weird walking the halls to my desk having to squint, feeling like I was working the night shift...

I got to my desk and realized it had just recently gone out. As we all nearly couldn't see a thing, and in no way could try proofreading contracts, there was nothing much to be done at work. Some people's eyes were hurting from the glare of the computer screen being the only thing sending a dim light into their cubicle. I didn't mind at all...it felt like an adventure! My co-workers have no problem referring to me as a dork. It probably didn't help that I kept referring to the situation and the condition of the building as akin to "a big fort."

Well, the afternoon finally rolled around and the building had a lunch put on for all the businesses occupying the building. They said we could take an extra long lunch because of the loss of electricity; this announcement came together with the instructions that, as my company presides in the top floors, no one was to use the upstairs "water closets," as it takes electricity to bring the water up this high. Plus, there was no circulation in the building for lack of ventilation and air conditioning. Some fort, indeed.

Well, after our enjoyable, "Taste of Tuscany" lunch, we made our way back up to work. No one felt like working, especially after finding out 3:00 would be the earliest the problem would be fixed...and even that was no guarantee. For lack of air conditioning, the top floors were getting stuffy. Tracy in a mock panic said, "Heat makes people crazy...and that's when crimes happen!"

After a while of fanning ourselves with FedEx envelopes, we get the brilliant idea to see how far our heavy-duty rubberbands shoot. Tracy and I arm up and start firing away, aiming for a co-worker four cubes and two aisles away. (It's so fun to do this in a dark office building - you have no idea.) We couldn't seem to hit this innocent co-worker, but we kept trying. They were falling willy-nilly around in his cubicle, but he was too fully engrossed in whatever he was doing to give a satisfactory response to being under-fire. Tracy and I kept ducking and laughing every time we thought we'd been found out, but he never looked up; we kept firing away. She chirped up, "See?? Crimes do happen!!" One finally struck him on the shoulder and we ducked.

He came over to replenish my rubberband stash, saying "The funniest thing..I think there's rubber in these florescent lights and with them not being in working order, it's congealing and dropping these bands into my desk..." Yeah, that's it, Fred...

The lights are back on today, I'm sad to say. Maybe that's a good thing for the Minneapolis crime statistics...

_____________________________________

So lately, I've been just dead-dog tired. School, small group, school, etc. - I've just been busy and staying up late to prove it.

That carries over into work. Today is a perfect example.

I slunched down in my "ergonomically-correct" office chair and, consciously unbeknownst to me, proceed to take a "long blink." And who knew one could dream while at work???

It was an intense part - I was hacking through some underbrush of some kind, and my hand touched a creepy fungus (otherwise known as a mushroom) sprouting from the end of a branch. I quickly jerked my hand away from the spore-producing structure. And suddenly awoke with a start as I realized I had just yanked my mouse off my desk in a bumbling crash.

Resembling the "falling of a cliff" feeling, beware of "feeling like you're touching a mushroom" feeling. It can have disastrous (or simply embarrassing) effects. Though I don't believe anyone was privy to this short hiatus in la-la-land.

_____________________________________

So you know how songs can sometimes get stuck in your head? I have a word stuck in my head. Yeah, the word?

Leviathan.

Who gets the word leviathan stuck in their head?? I wasn't even reading Isaiah 27 today! Honest.

Leviathan...

....Leviathan...

_____________________________________

I love banana bread.

Especially in a star-loaf shape. I came into work and my boss had left a star-shaped loaf of banana bread on my desk.

I love my boss.

I am a C

I am a C
I am a C-H
I am a C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N,
And I have C-H-R-I-S-T in my H-E-A-R-T,
And I will L-I-V-E E-T-E-R-N-A-L-L-Y!

I am a C
I am a C-A
I am a C-A-L-V-I-N-S-T,
Memorize T-U-L-I-P and R-O-M-A-N-S;
And S-O-L-I D-E-O G-L-O-R-I-A!

Before the throne absolved we stand

I was encouraged to write about the sermon from Sunday morning, and I think it’s a fabulous idea. I just wish I knew where to start... I will say one thing – Jennifer was all over in that sermon Pastor John preached Sunday. He all but shouted out my name, substituting it for the Pharisee.

Two truths that I must include:
When Pastor John spoke about when Christ is used to sell worldly or secular inspirational business agendas/books, he said it makes him “want to throw up!”

And when speaking on the four little words: “rather than the other,” Pastor John stated vehemently and passionately that he hopes, when people read it, it “scares the Hell out of them!”

Whenever I hear things like these, my breath catches in my throat and something inside me just bubbles up and I want to laugh from the sheer joy of hearing TRUTH! I love it.

Anyway, here are a few of my (stilted) thoughts on the sermon, taken from the below captioned text.

Luke 18:
9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

The crux of the sermon was that the Pharisee, who really had it all together – yet trusted in his own righteousness, even though giving thanks to God for it (accrediting God for his righteousness –- was not Pelagian), was not justified, while the tax collector who felt his shame and unworthiness and looked away from himself, went down to his house justified.

When I was younger, I grew up thinking Pharisee = Bad Guy. But they probably wouldn’t have worn the black cowboy hat; they were really, really on top of the ball. They were moral, and, though legalistically, upright. And yes, their heart was far from God, but man, they sure put on a nice show!

I didn’t realize just how “good” they were – particularly this guy spoken of here in Luke. He was faithful to his wife and just in his rulings and didn’t take advantage of anybody. And here, he even gives God the glory of these qualities. Doesn’t take personal credit for somehow producing them himself, he gives God honor for the work done in his life. (I think that’s what surprised me the most.) BUT this imparted righteousness is what he places on the table in the judgment courtroom as the basis of his salvation – it’s what he’s trusting in.

The tax collector, knowing his sinfulness and unworthiness, shamefully beat on his breast and looked to God (and in reading the Gospels backwards as instructed by Pastor John, looking to Christ), his only hope of salvation, for mercy. And he’s the one that went down to his house justified.

Rather than the other.

The Pharisee was not justified. Pastor John said that Luke could have remained silent on the resulting condition of ‘the other.’ He didn’t have to tell us what happened to the Pharisee, but he did. He made it clear he was not justified. Those who look to themselves and find pride and reason for their justification in their lives, thoughts, or actions are not justified.

All this was hitting close to home. As I was talking with a friend afterwards, we agreed on how recalcitrant we can be in wanting to look to ourselves, to our knowledge of the Bible, or even when we start looking to Christ, we take a peek back at ourselves looking away and are delighted to see how humble and focused-on-Christ we are – and surely that’ll be good for justification! Ugh. No, no, no.

On another facet of relevance, I hadn’t even realized the full application until a comment was made by my friend… As a Calvinist, I can start looking down on Arminians and think that I am so glad I’m not like them! Hm. …

In summation, it was an unbelievable sermon (disclaimer: that I – in no way – gave it justice in my rendition), and I will be thinking on this for some time to come. Excuse me; I need to go and weep – adoring Christ’s beauty, horrified at my grotesqueness. How amazing and sweet that we have a strong and perfect plea before the throne of God!

Well, this is a first. I'm a little nervous...

1. One book that changed your life (other than the Bible):
I'm sorry, that's confidential intel on need-to-know basis only; I'll have to see your security clearance...
2. One book you've read more than once:
Do you want the list? I have no shame - I have closed a book, flipped it over and started it again. Of course these were fiction and when I was a bit younger. One that comes to mind specifically is Mara, Daughter of the Nile.
3. One book you'd want on a Desert Island:
Is the Bible a prohibited answer to all of these? Then something quite extensive and mentally stimulating...I have heard Freedom of the Will falls under this category - I'll go with that one.
4. One book that made you laugh:
The Phantom Tollbooth (basically, it's a book about grammar and words and usage, etc - and it is funny!).
5. One book that made you cry (or feel really sad):
Isaiah, 1 Choronicles (16!), non-Bible? - Grace Triumphant, maybe...no, Valley of Vision...
6. One book that you wish had been written:
I'm currently writing it.
7. One book that you wish had never been written:
There are a couple books I think the world could have done without, but if they are here because of God's sovereign design, and He ultimately gets the glory (even from them having been written), then - no comment.
8. One Book You're Currently Reading:
"Book" is capitalized...does this indicate the Bible as an answer, per chance? I suppose not. Then Microsoft Access 2003, I think. What a read! The plot just sucks you in - I mean, it's for school.
9. One Book you've been meaning to read:
Again, the list?? I have many, many books all lined up to read - I even own most of them. So as soon as December 2007 rolls around, I hope this list will drastically diminish. Current authors on the list: whole lotta Piper, lotta Edwards, a couple Owen, bit of Spurgeon, pinch of Pink, Grudem, Nancy Wilson, maybe Doug Wilson too, et cetera and so forth.
10. Now tag five people:
I seriously doubt anyone is going to even see this. But if you have run across this...you're it!

My Personal Favorite Words of the Week

Commiserate

Abjure

Mochaspressochinofrappazappaalpacino

TULiP...

Frank expressed appreciation for this work of art when this was posted on my small group's blog. He's very cultured when it comes to fine art, you know. And nothing could be better than this...

Dedicated to Micah

Upon his suggestion that I put this on my new blog, I have now made the transplant complete. This was my first ever blog post...taken from my small group blog, OneAnother.

One of the dorkier moments in my life...

Ok, a blog can't only be all about announcement postings...so I'm now going to blog a "bloggable moment."
_______________________________________
The setting
My office in Bloomington, 6th floor, Contract Writing department
The characters*
Yen (uh huh, I can be a bit of a character at times), and
Eleanor - a woman at my office who I would say is maybe early 40s, walks around the office with her head tilted back like she's trying to look at people from under the bottom rim of her glasses, and talks kind of quietly (not quite a Low-Talker but nearly)
*names have been changed to protect the innocent
The Story Begins
Whenever Eleanor passes me in the hallways, without fail she greets me by saying Hi Jennifer in a very low, raspy, breathy voice. If I see her approaching me and I know we will be passing each other, I usually rehearse what she will say in my head. I'm not entirely sure why I do that. Maybe it's because her greeting is so unique; maybe it's because it's rather fun talking like that; maybe it's simply habit. And in the attempt to be Minnesota-nice without being over-bearing, I match her style in greeting. So in a rather low, raspy, breathy voice I respond Hi Eleanor whenever we pass each other.
Well, today that all changed. I was leaving for lunch and on my way out I saw Eleanor walking towards me. And as we passed each other, in a low, raspy, breathy voice, I said Hi Jennifer.
Suddenly, I felt dizzy; colors became more vivid; I felt light-headed and out of breath...as I realized: I had just greeted myself.
_______________________________________
Needless to say, that proved to be rather awkward. Next time I pass Eleanor, I think I'll just smile and nod.

T-storm convo

This transaction occurred somewhere in the general vicinity of 1:30am...


Me: What is it about a good rain that just makes you want to cuddle?

Mom: What is it about a good rain that makes me think you should be in bed?

Fish are friends, not food

Coming back from lunch, I was in the elevator and about to step out onto my floor, when the screen on the mini television changed. It caught my eye.

Supposedly, it's shark week this week...? As a general rule when I was younger, all things permanently wet and ocean-related - sea, fish, coral, plankton - creeped me out. In fact, I have been noted to have said when I was newly 5, regarding my future occupation, "I wouldn't want to be a scooper-diver because I don't like scooper-diving; I like nurses." ...I have since overcome this unseemly distaste for bodies of salt water and its inhabitants (I still like nurses, but I'm not going to be one). In fact, the world of underwater is somewhat of a fascination to me now. So the mini-TV had my attention.

A random shark fact popped up declaring the size range of these fish. A pygmy shark is the smallest, coming in at about 4 inches. And the largest shark can reach up to 50 feet or more. 50 feet! Well, I had to know just how long 50 feet actually was. (I'm not too good at spatial visualization. By the way, try saying that two times fast.) So I got to my desk, and immediately asked my neighbor cube-indweller if she was any good at estimating lengths and if she knew what 50 feet would look like in our office space. She replied, "Propably like 50 feet anywhere else." Ha. Ha.

So I turned and asked another co-worker if she knew what 50 feet would equal in terms of our office. She started speculating. "Well, Mike is about 6 feet..." So we both marched over to his office (he's one of the head-honchos) and asked him to stand up (well, I asked if he would be so kind as to lie down head to toe across the floor of our department so we could measure something out, but he declined, stating he felt vulnerable while laying down). He stood up. Well, that didn't help me one bit. I still had to try and visualize the full extent of the length - I wanted something a bit more concrete. So I looked at our cubicles. We have four in a row and each are about 8 feet wide. So I deduced (using my brilliant detective skills) that 50 feet was longer than the length of the set of cubicles - and still longer even if we would've had another cubicle on the end! (Basically, 50 feet is really long!)

By that time, the three that I had involved in this snowballing account, and others observing the hoopla from afar, were wondering what on earth I wanted to know the length of 50 feet for - and they were not vocalizing this query all too quietly. I tried to skirt the question, suddenly feeling quite inane. Well, there was no avoiding the interogation. So I ducked my head and said rather sheepishly, "I--I just wanted to know how big the biggest shark is..."

They looked at me quizzically and then laughed. Then we went and googled "Great White Shark" - which is what grows to such lengths.

Looking at the pictures, and having 'set' the distance in my mind of just how large one of those can get, the sense of awe overwhelmed me as I tried to imagine the immensity of this great creature, swimming around in an even larger ocean. And then as I contemplated the awesomeness of its Creator.

It made me think of Psalm 95. It says "In His hands are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are His also. The sea is His, for He made it; and His hands formed the dry land.

"Oh come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the LORD, our Maker! For He is our God, and we are the people of His pasture, and the sheep of His hand..."

I love the contrast of the greatness, hugeness, omnipotence of God, and yet, the intimate portrayal of us being the sheep of His hand (where it was just said are containing - and upholding - the depths and heights themselves). How comforting to see that He who created the sea and dry land, and the vast terrain of the earth is--our God!

He made the enormity of the ocean, and filled it with teeming life. To think that this enormous fish was created to bring God glory - may it do just that. Yes! Let's worship and bow down - let us kneel before the LORD!

Hi, this is me -

HOLY LORD,

I have sinned times without number,
and been guilty of pride and unbelief,
of failure to find thy mind in thy Word,
of neglect to seek thee in my daily life.

My transgressions and short-comings
present me with a list of accusations,

But I bless thee that they will not stand against me,
for all have ben laid on Christ;

Go on to subdue my corruptions,
and grant me grace to live among them.

Let not the passions of the flesh nor the lustings of the mind
bring my spirit into subjection,
but do thou rule over me in liberty and power.

I thank thee that many of my prayers have been refused--
I have asked amiss and do not have,
I have prayed from lusts and been rejected,
I have longed for Egypt and been given a wilderness.

Go on with thy patient work,
answering 'no' to my wrongful prayers and fitting me to accept it.

Purge me from every false desire, every base aspiration,
everything contrary to thy rule.

I thank thee for thy wisdom and thy love,
for which all the acts of discipline to which I am subject,
for sometimes putting me into the furnace
to refine my gold and remove my dross.


No trial is so hard to bear as a sense of sin.

If thou shouldst give me choice to live in pleasure and keep my sins,
or to have them burnt away with trial,
give me sanctified affliction.

Deliver me from every evil habit; every accretion of former sins,
everything that dims the brightness of thy grace in me,
everything that prevents me taking delight in thee.

Then I shall bless thee, God of Jeshurun, for helping me to be upright.
_______


I was thinking I was going to boldface the parts that just struck me straight to my sinful heart and, in turn, make my heart swell in praise to God for His mercy and work of sanctification in my life - but as I was going through this prayer, everything but the conjunction words were in bold...

(This prayer was taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions)