PT Pastor

A little More Navel Gazing

2007-07-30T08:33:00.000-06:00

I would like to thank all of you who committed on my last blog (and those who read and chose not to comment or to point out my errors.)

I don't think I am going though "Midlife Crisis Part II." FD, I am guessing, hopes not. Following my last one I married her and even thought she likes the HBO program "Big Love" I am not sure she would want a sister/wife :) But I am feel adrift.

My job, which on the whole I like, has lately been fuzzy. Not sure what my job is now. New boss seem to want to do what my job has been and at the same time I feel like I am making "boss" decisions to keep thing moving at work.

I don't want the "boss" job. I do not have the credentials to do the job and fund raising is not my passion, I can do it but it was not what I was hired to do. Boss wants to do what he perceives as the glamor part of my job, flying half around the world for a two day meeting. That to me is not glamor but a week of unsettled sleep.

The hardest part at work right know is that there is an expectation of fawning over everything he does. I know - I know it speaks more to his insecurity than anything else and I don't mind giving praise when it is a natural response and as a pastor I look for thing to help people to see God at work in their lives but I an not "The Pastor" in my job here, I do not want to spend time noticing every little thing my boss does and praise him for his brilliance in booking a flight (because he has just told me how great a job he has done)!

That said, my understand of leadership is that troubles flow up and praise flow down.

Maybe it is my stoic Presbyterian outlook, but when I do something well, as long as I know it (and if I do God knew before I did) it does not matter if anyone else notices. Anyway doing things well is what is expected, praise should not be expected.

I also think giving praise is like giving presents, giving is a whole lot more fun than receiving.

The only time when giving praises and gifts are not fun is when they are expected or preserved to be deserved.

I guess this goes back to my understand of salvation. Salvation is only salvation when it is unexpected and undeserved.

Long Time No Write

2007-07-27T11:08:00.000-06:00

I have not posted here for some time. Not sure why, but it could be:

I have nothing to say (unlikely if you know me)
Have a very hard time blogging from home
I work at computer for 6 hours a day and don't want to face a key board
To tired to type
To busy with son
Too many books to read

I think the real reason is that all my life writing has been a source of pain. It is not that my fingers hurt (but I am getting some Arthur). It is emotional pain and how I see myself.

Because of learning problems (the labels have changed with time but I still have the same problems, phonically illiterate, what is know called "ADD," distressingly acute hearing and horrible rote memory.) I have almost a phobia about writing. I know that no matter what I write, how good the content, how accurate the information is, The first thing people say to me is "you miss spelled ____" -"you used a comma wrong" -"That is not a sentence."

It was okay if the person was teacher but as an adult everyone thinks they have a write to commit on my flaws in writing. I don't comment on what ever flaw they have why is it okay for you to point out mine. Is it because they have proof of my flaw, it on paper and it can be saved and referred to. It is hard to capture bad breath or arrogance. An arrogant person may not understand arrogance is a flaw to begin with.

I want to say get past the form and get the idea of the message behind it. Maybe one of the reasons I like Kierkegaard is that in the English translation, the meaning gets thought if you forget the structure of the writing.

About the time I stopped blogging was when I realized how often my new boss was amused at my minor writing errors. I learned a long time ago that some one has to proofread my stuff to add the things my fast moving - addled brain miss when I edit my own writing.

I have to write, a lot every day, it has gotten harder and harder to set myself to the task.

Starting today when I blog I will:

I will not worry about having to be perfect in my post.
I will use the spell check and look up words I have misspelled so badly the sell check can't come up with a correct spelling
I will leave alone words that are spelled correctly but look wrong
I will not let the grammar and spelling police make me feel like a seven year old who can not memorize the spelling list and told adnauseam "sound it out"(If I could sound it out I would have, you have told me this for the hundredth time, STOP)

By the way adnauseam is not in blogger's spell check. I spelled it correctly but I still had to look it up because the spell check could not figure it out!

If you are reading this and have tendency be part of the grammar and spelling police.

Pretend that I am writing in Danish and that has been translated into English.

Middle Aged and Out to Eat

2007-03-12T12:27:00.000-06:00

As a child I remember going out to dinner and sitting in the booth or at the table and watching the other people who were eating dinner. I am not talking about the 2 year old staring at the guy cleaning his false teeth. I am talking about just seeing and observing "normal" people eating dinner.

I would sit and wonder who they were and why the groups of people were together. I was looking at them as a mix of adults and children or just a group of adults. What I would try to figure out was what the relationships was between people. Most often I figured that the were a group of friends out with their family. It did not cross my mind that they were brothers and sisters spending time together. I also remember feeling sad watching people eating alone, I still do.

Growing up we did not do that kind of things with family. The one time I remember eating out with extended family, and I was not even there! It was the time my youngest sister was out to dinner with my other sister, mother, and "famous" great uncle and her getting sick at the table.

My father's brother and sister were 20 years older than him and we never or rarely got together with them for meals let alone going out to eat. My mother was an only child and did thing rarely with her cousins.

It never occurred to me that those "old"people could be brothers and sister enjoying time together.

It occurred to me this last Saturday night that I was one of those "old" people and the people I choose to eat out with are my sisters and their families. I was reminded of those time as a child looking around and wondering who those people were. I also realized that I truly enjoy the company of my sisters and their families. I think I knew this before but on Saturday it became embedded in me in a way I have not felt a truth in a long time.

I could not help but wonder what Son was thinking as he observed our table and the other tables. All I know is that I still watch the world around me and try to figure out the relationship are between people. I felt like I did as a child.

I guess that is why it hit me that we were one of those a groups of people eating out I remember as a child and I still felt like I should be sitting in my child seat watching and wondering.

What Does it Matter?

2007-02-27T10:28:00.000-06:00

The recent media splash of "Is it Jesus' tomb" is much to do about nothing. I have never understood the need to prove Jesus existed by scientific method. My faith in Jesus as the risen Son of God is not dependent on rigid fact. As a matter of fact, if everything is proven about Jesus faith is no longer faith. It becomes a human bound ridged ritual.

For me, by definition faith is belief in realities that can not be proven by the limits of human nature. The human need to know everything about God within the limits of our limited sense of reality and in turn making a small God, is an attempt to displace the one God with a human god of the self.

If I remember correctly there are a number of stories in the first eleven chapters of Genesis that speak to the human desire to control God and to become god. The truth and reality of God is our inability to understand God, to have someone greater that the self to trust.

One of the many sad parts of the "tomb of Jesus media event" is that the people that are recruited to speak for "people of faith" by the media are as rigid and ridiculous as the people who are trying to present reality as they see it.

The blow hard that was on Larry King last night has done more to drive people away from faith than any empirical evidence given by the film makers. If there was ever a person that represent what a "christian" is not to be like it would be this guy. I have seen him on a number of shows but I have been outraged and embarrassed by what he says that I can never remember his name.

I know that media want caustic and irrational guests to bump up ratings and a level headed thinking Christian does not make good TV.

In the end I matters not what someone digs out of the ground or spews on TV, as Paul wrote, Love (God) bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all thinks. Love (God) never ends.

In this world today a person has to believe this because there is no prof that God is and I don't want any.

Winter Funk

2007-02-16T08:39:00.000-06:00

Every year I become very grumpy from about the middle of January to the middle of February. The problem is, particularly for Wife, is that I don't remember this happens every year until about the middle of February.

Two nights ago the realization of my annual grumpiness occurred to me as if it was new information. I have internally blamed it on a number of thing:

Started getting meds by mail and one of my meds is a generic instead of name brand I had been taking. (did not know there was genetic available until it arrived in the mail)

The many piles of paper at work that need to be addressed but I keep getting new work assignments which means routine work gets put off and piled up.

Started working out at gym three times a week.

Stress at church, over resistance to welcoming new members. Actually reaching out instead of expecting them to walk in the door at a church five mile from nearest highway and 1/4 mile from nearest house.

But in the end it is just the February funk. Realizing that it is what it is makes it some strange way go away.

A Second Scoop of Coal

2007-02-09T09:55:00.000-06:00

The heat is not working in the office today and I feel like Bob Cratchit. My hands are cold and I am thinking about cutting the tips of my glove fingers off to be a able to warm my hands and still do my work. I am huddled by a space heater working on reviewing self-studies and making travel arraignments. All I need is a waist coat and a bottle of ink and I could be in the mid-19th century.

Just think I was in New Orleans two days ago in 70 degree weather eating "King Cake." I got the piece with the baby in it both times I eat a piece. I now owe them two cakes.

Got a tour of New Orleans it still looks like they got coal in their stocking this year.

Molly Ivins

2007-02-01T19:26:00.000-06:00

On the way to work today I heard that Molly Ivins died. A sadness came over me. I was sadder that I would have imagines about someone I had only heard and read. I heard a report of her death on the way home and had the same feeling. I heard her voice in an interview and was with the feeling in the chest and everything.

I took my pills this morning, I did. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

I as though about my reaction I realized that she was (almost typed is)one of the few people, in my experience, who speak the truth to power was gone. A reporter who said it like she saw it. Her comment had the ring of truth.

Part of my sadness is knowing that she will be replaced by the Nancy Graces' and Anderson Cooper's. Who will not risk the truth unless it helps their careers.

Who will speak the truth and is in a position to know the difference between truth and hype?

A Lost Aha

2007-01-30T09:00:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I had one of those "aha" moments. You know that moment when two pieces of information from dispersant areas come together and an insight clicks into place.

Well, I had one of those yesterday. The problem is I can't remember what it was. You see, the moment this "aha" clicked into place my train (some would say my slow boat) of thought was interrupted. This is not an uncommon occurrence. There are many time when for instance I finish an email and want to attach a document, I get interrupted and when I get back to the email I forget to attach the document or I forget why I am going upstair after Son has drawn my attention.

This time what I have forgotten something that was relative important, or at least to my understanding of the world and how I will respond to what life brings diffrently. At least I think it was a big "aha."

My hope is that my brain has filed it way in the appropriate place and when the occasion arises for me to make use of the "aha" it will be appropriately accessed.

Of course since I can't remember what it was it could be a trivial as a new flavor of ice cream.

I guess to some people that might be a weighty issue, at least on the scales.

Know Your Space

2007-01-18T08:08:00.000-06:00

On the way to work today it occurred to me, not for the first time, that one of the ways we can divide the world of humanity is between people who are aware of their surroundings and how their actions effect other people and how other peoples action effect them ---and those people who do not have a clue.

I am convinced that 80% of auto accidents are the result of people not being aware that there are really other people in the other cars that have independent thought and not in a video game. That is not the only place.

There are the times in the grocery store where a person leaves their cart sit sideways in the aisle and or where the person ahead of you at the check out decides to balance their check book at the register.

Then there are the times in the security line at the airport where people hear from the minute thye get in line they hear, or not, "have your ID's out and available" and when they get to head of the line they have repacked their ID in the bottom of the carry-on.

There is the theater patron who takes cell phone calls and want to talk about fishing during the movie.

It is not that they only inconvenience others, there are safety issues. If you are not aware of where you are at all time you could, in the extreme, get killed. Expecting people to stop while jaywalking is not a good assumption. The person in the car could be balancing their checkbook (I am probably giving people more credit with the checkbook thing.)

One of the skills my father had and and mother has that was passed on to me and my sisters is the ability to be aware of the immediate world around us. From our father it was the ability to quickly appraise the a situtation and determine what is the appropriate response. When you survive 90 days in constant combat in World War II, you have to have that ability or you die in the first day. From our mother we got the ability to discover what is new and to have the curiosity to investigate.

One of the things I would like to pass on to Son is this ability to live fully aware of his environment. It has gotten me through a lot of life that would have been more difficult if I had been oblivious.

The only burden is that he will spend an a lot of time frustrated with most of the the other people in the world or at least the United States.

Riding The Writing Fear

2007-01-14T10:28:00.000-06:00

If you have read my profile on the side of the blog, you know that writing is not one of my better skills. It is not that I do not have good thoughts or even know the rules. My problem is that whatever I write, my brain fixes the mistakes when I read it over. It adds (I had - or leaves off) an occasional "S'" or "K", it will complete sentences that are fragments and in general fill in what my mind wanted on paper (or screen) but was not conveyed to my fingers with the assistance of my eyes.

Today I submitted a blog to a blog journal and I think I submitted the email to the journal with "journal" misspelled as I read the entry, to an English professor no less. I have feared English teachers and professors since I can remember. I still get cold chills when I remember 3rd grade spelling test and sentence diagrams on the blackboard.

Being unable to read until I was twelve did not help my ability to recognize nouns and verbs, let along dangling participles (whose importance, I understand, is now under debate in language circles.) Even after I learned to read and in turn read my own writing, I still dreaded English. I is amazing how much I could cover up with a well-tuned memory. In high school I was in all the honor classes except English. I just could not face the humiliations of the papers returned with more red ink than I had written in black ink. My high school senior history teacher wrote at the end of one of these bleeds that "your memory is just short of photographic, but you will need to have a secretary when you get a job."

In college I had to take 7 composition courses before I could pass the required two, and I think I passed the last one because the professor took mercy on me and because my writing hand was in a splint from a work-related accident. Even though I finished my undergrad, received a MDiv, have 18 hours of doctoral work and spend 60 percent of my work life writing, nothing bring me more anxiety than to have an English teacher scrutinize my writing.

I have crawled into burning cars as a paramedic. I have searched in gang territory for a child of a church I served after he had been threatened death by a gang. I have been hijacked in Bombay, India by three men, who took me from the domestic airport to the international airport, until I gave them all the cash I had including 5,000,000 Turkish Lira (about $4.) These experiences are nothing to compare with having an English language professional (I had - a professional of the English language) point out what I have done wrong.

It is not that I do not want to know what I have done incorrectly. I do. It's that I feel like that scared, ignorant 3rd grader every time I have my writing reviewed by a expert. At the same time, there is something in me that keeps me writing and seeking help.

"Hey FD, will you edit this?"

Sure, Husband, I fixed it all and highlighted some changes I made. I'll continue to do so whenever asked. I don't want you to worry too much about this, though, for it is one of your few weaknesses, and your strengths more than compensate. Love, FD.

Thanks FD, I can use all the help I can get. I did comment on some of the changes we discussed.

Unbalanced

2007-01-11T07:47:00.000-06:00

Wife and I joined a gym last Saturday. This is the first time in 15 years that I have (or even planed to) gone to a gym. I am not sure if Wife has ever worked out with weights. When we signed up Wife purchased a 5 session package with a professional trainer. I, being a man, with vast experience with gyms (ya right) decided I would try it on my own after I got my initial orientation.

Wife went for the first time to work out with her sister on Sunday and had a good experience. Her first appointment with the trainer is this coming Saturday. I went for the first time on Monday and when I got there I ask if someone would show me around and make sure I knew how to use the machines correctly.

Well, they grabbed a young man who started me off but he appeared to be distracted. He showed me two leg machines and got called away and never came back. After about 15 minutes of wandering around I decided that I would make an appointment and come back.

I made the appointment and went back yesterday. The trainer did all the measurements to determine my percent of body fat and told me what I already new I had an unacceptable level of body fat. He had asked me to guess what the percentage was and I said between30 to 35 percent, saying to myself that was probably low. It came back as 32 percent.

He took me out on the floor and started to evaluate my level of fitness and after two exercises he told me I was unbalance. Part of me flashed back to the one time I went to a chiropractor and was told I had one leg shorter than the other and my back was crocked and then later was told, by a number of people, that everyone has one leg longer than the other and that everyone has a crocked back. My cynical self thought I was being sold a bill of goods. But my mind excepted this fact when I could not stand on one leg, with correct posture, and not fall over when trying to exercising with the other leg.

As we continued on I could feel what he was talking about. After we were through I went back and purchased the 5 session package. Even though he tried to sell me the 28 session package.

If he tells me after I finish the 5 sessions I need more, I will think about it, but if he tells me I have one leg shorter than the other I will have to rethink this gym thing.

For Blog Below

2007-01-10T13:31:00.000-06:00

I tried to post picture on the blog below but it would not let me. I also could not spell check!
To top it off There is not way to get a direct question to blogger. I trid to log into a help group but that did not like my "nick name."

I had to open another post to get the picture to work on this blog. I can open pictures from a blank post but not one that is in use.

Under Estimating Children

2007-01-10T07:30:00.000-06:00

One of the things I have to keep reminding myself about children is that they are often smarter than adults. Whether it is getting us to do something or give them something they want or just going ahead and doing it themselves, children are often two steps ahead.

This might be because they have little else on their minds except to learn and explore. One of the reasons I think time appears to go by faster as we get older is because we have the “been there done that” attitude for most of the world around us. As a child we spent time looking at the grass and bugs or watching the clouds go by. As adult we might look at the clouds and spends as much time as a child but our minds grasp clouds and make determination if it is going to rain or not, without seeing the “bird” or “tree” that children observe. Time for children is slower because they are anticipating what might be, instead of making assumptions as to what is.

I know, I know - a person's own child always is the smartest, cutest and most amazing child that ever lived. They have to be that in our minds so we can handle the brain dead things they do as teenagers or adults.

That said I have to share with you some of the things Son has done to bring me back to appreciation of what might be, instead of assuming what is. Son is 2 years 5 months old:

While sitting at the dinner table staring at a pile of Banana slices, anticipating not eating them, he line them up in a row counting each one with a tone saying “ I am not eating that one 1, I am not eating that one 2 ....“

After coming down the stairs in the morning he ran to the refrigerator and with open arms as if giving a blessing, saying “ red, red, Red.” The red light, that signaled locked or unlocked, on the in the door ice and water was off. He keeps saying this until the lock is put back on and the red light appears.

Last night at dinner I asked him what he wanted for dinner after he had eaten all the things I had given him. He said “Mickey mouse” (he is not much of a meat eater but if he wanted a mouse --)so we went though pretty much every box in the pantry asking if this is what he wanted. With the response of “Noooooooo,” that relayed the tone of "you stupid man." That is until I got to the box of crackers that has a picture of Goofy on the back and he says “Yes please.”

I wish I could be that observant, enjoy time as it passes slowly instead of assuming many things and then wonder where the time went. Like the time I spent writing this blog.

Why I Serve a Congregation

2007-01-01T10:02:00.000-06:00

There has been a number of times in my life recently I have wonder why I continue to serve a church, besides all that call from God business. All the frustrations of being in a place and serving many people who do not have much control in the other parts of their lives, in their work place, with their health or multitude of other places, who feel free to express at church all the pent up needs and to vent in a safe place. Where it is safe to be angry or _____ (fill in the emotional blank) at the pastor or unfortunately at the pastor's spouse. This is also demonstrated in the need to keep everything the same. To keep the same activities, the same traditions in order to make sure the church is the one place they can count on for stability in their lives.

My sadness is that they hold so tight to the traditions and by holding on to those traditions their safe place is only safe for them and is not open to anyone else, unless they are willing to change and become like them. Without change and/or allowing other people to make the church a safe place, on their own terms, the church becomes a tomb that is only fully realized when it is empty.

This last week I was reminded why I continue to serve a congregation, beside all that call from God business. Last week I got to spend a day with an Elder who understands what it means to be part of a congregation. We spent the day putting speakers in the sanctuary for the members of the congregation who do not hear as well as they have in the past. As we worked we both new that the room was to small to need speakers, as a matter of fact when we tested the speakers he could not always tell if the the sound was coming from me or the speakers.

What I remembered was that one of the things that keeps me serving a congregation is the privilege of being with and learning from the people am a called to serve. It might be selfish of me but I get a lot of joy of seeing people using - unselfishly - the gifts God has given to them. I believe that part of my responsibility, as a pastor, (and in general as a Christian) is to observe and then tell people when I see God at work in their living and giving. There are many people who do this all the time. I just don't always see it through the few squeaky wheels.

I am beginning the New Year reassured that God is a work in the church I have been call to serve - in spit of all we try to do to get in the way of God's purpose.

Holiday Break?

2006-12-27T18:02:00.000-06:00

Holiday, I have looked that word up in three places to make sure it is spelled correctly. It is spelled correctly, it just does not look right. This phenomenon of a correctly spelled words not looking right might be one of the sources of my many frustrations with spelling and writing. When a correctly spelled word does not appear to be spelled correctly in my mind and the converse, a incorrectly spelled word looks correctly spelled. It was literally until college that I correctly spelled the word "any." It still does not look right. If you have read some of my older blogs you will know my problem with "know" and "now."

Maybe the word "holiday" does not look right this time because the present holiday break does not feeling like one. Except for sleeping until 9 am today the "time off" has packed with fun and excitement. The ten day off are pretty full. The run up to the holiday and the holiday itself was very pleasant. This is the first year in a long time I have had looked forward to the season (sans the mixing of reason, for the season.)

The last two day have been focused on the sick kid. He has had a fever and felt all around awful. Today his fever was down and he went to preschool, which was good because the carpet cleaners were coming today and herding two dogs was going to be plenty to keep me busy. At 1:30 the school called and said that his fever was up again and he needed to come home. I wish there was more I could do for him beside giving him medicine to lower the fever and put him to bed.

Wife calls about 4 pm to tell me that she has tested positive for strep and that she was having someone call in scrip for her and Son. Well now I understand why I have had a sore throat and have been cold and clammy for the last two days. We are now all on antibiotics.

If Son is well enough to go to school tomorrow I am going up to church to help an Elder do some wiring for some new speakers. As if, the church needs a speaker system. The sanctuary is little bigger that a large living room, if fact it is smaller that the great room of Elder I am meeting tomorrow. But, some of the older folk refuse to move up front to hear better and some of the younger families want to have speaker in the basement for when the babies cry.

The rest of the time off is pretty free, so far, but you can never tell. We do have a dinner Friday for some old friends of Wife and I am looking forward to meeting them.

Part of me can't wait to get back to work to get some rest.

The Wheeze from Above

2006-12-26T12:35:00.000-06:00

Last night a little while after I went to bed, as I laid awake feeling bloated from all the fat and carbs I had eaten that day. Repeatedly asking myself when do I do this to myself. The this being, over eating to the point where sleep is uncomfortable and accumulating enough gas to let loose burbs that could pass for a fog horn.

As I laid there feeling like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloon, I heard over the baby monitor Son wheezing. Which in my book is not a good thing. Son had been coughing for the last couple days. So much so, with so much repatriation, that we were able to teach him to cover his mouth when he coughs, which he now does about 80% of the time. The other 20% is usually right in my face.

Hearing the wheezing my mind went to ronchi and rales. Son had a fever yesterday, along with the cough. My mind raced to pneumonia. In my carb and fat addled mind all I could thing to do was wake up Dr. Wife (who had been asleep since 8pm, it is know around midnight.)

I ask, "Is that wheezing coming from Son?"

She responds, "Yes it is he'll be fine."

I respond, "If I remember right wheezing is not good."

She then tells me that we have some albuterol left over from last time and if I want to I could give him a treatment, but that to do so I would have to go to Sister's to get the nebulizer. Even in my carb addled state I clearly did not want to wake up Sister and Brother-in-Law, who had been up Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning putting together presents with many small pieces for niece and nephew.

I was not present the first and last time, when son needed breathing treatment, so I then asked if we had nebulizing cup and tubing. If we did, I thought I rig one of the CPAP's up to the bubbler and give Son a treatment. You see we have a O2 set up for Wife's CPAP from when she was in the hospital. I thought I could reverse the direction of the flow.

You might ask why I though I could rig this set up. The answer is that while I was a paramedic (in my youth) I spent one of those five years as a respiratory therapist. This was in the old'en days when equipment was not as specialized as today and there was times at 3 am when we had to figure out ways to get equipment to work in different ways than designed to deliver the an ordered therapy.

All that said, we did not have a bubbler or for that matter one of those face moisturizing machines (it would have worked.) When I am bloated on carbs my mind does not stop and it functions in odd ways.

After I realized there was no way to deliver the albuterol, I brought Son down to sleep with us. That action just insures that none of us would get any sleep. After half an hour I took Son back to his bed.

This morning I took Son to Wife's clinic to have one of her colleagues check him over and tells us what we already knew. Of course, he didn't have temp this morning - but he was still wheezing.

He order a machine for us to use. Son and I got home a little while ago and I gave him a treatment. He did not like the process but he did get a good dose of meds. It is amazing how deep a child breaths when crying. He is now sleeping, the first good sleep in two days.

Now if I could find a treatment that keep me away from carbs and fats, I could sleep as well.

Praying to the "Bab'a Jesus"

2006-12-22T09:17:00.001-06:00

One of my favorite scenes in Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby is the scene at the dinner table where Ricky Bobby is saying grace to the "Bab'a Jesus." He spends most of the time, before he gets to his request list, talking about the characteristics of a baby. His fingers and toes, his hair, his cuteness. I laughed out loud at the absurdness of the prayer but also I have been at tables where I have wanted to laugh at similar things prayed, I am sure others have felt the same way about my praying.

Later as I reflected on that scene it occurred to me there was another reason for my laughter. It had to do with the human need to try to control God. From the Tower of Babel to our insistence that we control the limits of God's salvation and who God "Saves."

You see, it is easy to control a baby, particularly new borns. We can pick them up and take them where we want them to go. We can show them off and have people say how cute they are. We can put them to bed and go about life without a whole lot of inconvenience. We can determine if they live or die, if we decide to feed them or not.

The only thing they can really do to us is annoy us with crying and bodily emissions. Even those things, if we are cold hearted enough, can be ignored.

Jesus on the cross is hard for us to pick up and carry. The wounded Christ is not so cute. We can put Jesus in the tomb but we can not keep him there, he will get up and find us in our locked rooms.

The baby Jesus may appear easily controlled, but not the risen Christ.

Taking the King's Shilling

2006-12-21T07:51:00.000-06:00

This morning on the way to work I was, as usual, listening to NPR. One of the stories was about the need to increase the size of the Army and Marines. The question was asked if the Army was having a hard time making it's recruiting goals now- how will they do if they have to recruit another 50,000 a 100,000 soldiers. The answer was to offer better signing bonuses to new recruits of the military.

After hearing that I could not help thinking about the English Army of the 18th and part of the 19th century. The Army in this time period of English history, was a "volunteer" Army. Recruiting Sergeants would go from village to village, or from block to block in the cities, with a drummer (hence the phrase "drumming up business")looking to fill the regiments. Each regiment was responsible for its own recruiting. They often used taverns to recruit, getting the intoxicated patrons to take the "King's shilling." Often putting the shilling in the ale glass so that when they had finished the mug the shilling would fall into the mouth and by this action accepting the shilling. By accepting the shilling, no matter how it came into a persons possession, they were by law agreeing to join the regiment (notice the root of the word soldier is sold.)

The men, who of their own free will, volunteered for the English Army often did so out of a last resort. They were either running from the law or in such dire financial circumstances that it was either join the Army or die.

Today the United States' volunteer Military is not as draconian as the English Army but there is similar motivation of financial needs of some of the men and women joining the military. This economic draft is part of who we are today and it is a great benefit for people who need that leg up in life.

What bothers me is that if these people had other options would they take them over the military? A military career is honorable and fulfilling choice for a life's work. As a matter of fact I would have signed a military contract in college, I wanted to, but I was two pounds over the weight limit to qualify on the last day to sign and was disqualified. In the mid 70's the a military career was not a popular choice but that is what I felt was my life's calling. Looking back I wonder how my life would have been different.

I know that most of our service people today have chosen the military out of patriotism and calling.

My heart goes out to those soldiers, sailors, marines and air force personnel who are in harms way because they felt they had no choice but to except the "Kings shilling"

First Preformance

2006-12-19T13:05:00.000-06:00

Last night Wife, ML (mother-in law) and I attended Son's first display of creative expression in public. We, as his "posse," have seen him perform many times.

There is "strong baby": where flex's his muscles and gets what appears to be a grimace on his face. When he did this the first few times we thought he was having a seizure.

There is "singing baby": with a play list of Happy Birthday, ABC.., Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and a medley of all three with Old McDonald thrown in to boot.

There is "athletic baby": where he high jumps over the side of his crib, plays dodge ball with the dogs and runs from mom and dad.

But last night he was in the public sphere for the first time with 25 to 30 other classmates. The children did a wonderful job of cooperating with the teachers, just enough, to demonstrate that there was a plan to the gathering of snow flakes and reindeers.

The real performance was in the audience.

There was the competition among the fathers, to see who had the biggest camera. I carried a pocket size digital camera and did not qualify as a real father. The winner of the contest was the father who lugged in a camera - with tripod - the size you see on the shoulders of people chasing car wrecks to sell footage to media outlets. He marched in just before the children and proceeded to climb on one of the tables to set up his equipment. I half expected him to ask the lead teacher to wait until he was ready and call action.

The main competition was to see who could arrive the latest and still get the best seat in the house. Placing themselves in front of all of us who arrived early and on time! There were several times when the music leader had to push the crowds back.

In the end it was about the children. Their smiles and laughs. The look on their faces as they saw their parents in the crowed, a few cried but most beamed.

When Santa came in to gave each child a present, Son went up to get his gift with his pants almost falling off but he kept his cool and said thank you.

Before Santa could get away I made sure that I got my request for my Christmas gift, to have bigger camera than "table top" dad.

Non-News

2006-12-18T07:45:00.000-06:00

--- Breaking News ---

When news readers report on their own actions, particularly good works, it is not news!

One of our local affiliates, who reminds us at least 3 times a half-hour that they are "The most watched local news" has been spending the last three weeks, that's right three weeks touting the raffling off of One X-box with proceeds going to the stations much sponsored and reported on charity.

This has been one of the top three "stories" that the station has covered on each of their half-hours segments - morning, noon, evening, and night - for the last three weeks and every time it comes on my blood pressure rises. I would watch another channel but this is the station that does the least of these kind of stunts and is the lease tabloids of the stations. Because the only thing that bothers me more that making themselves news is new broadcast that make mountains out of hang nails and reporting breakthroughs in medicine that the same station reported as breakthroughs two years previous (yes, some of us have memories even if they don't.)

If you take an 30 minute broadcast and take the, at least, 8 minutes of commercials out and take out the 8 minutes of self promoting by the station. These promotions include items about the local station, network programing, news style report of "reality " TV (from own network,) and the loyalty building school visiting by weather people, reporters and helicopter pilots. There are about 14 minuets of news in the half-hour and most of that is exploiting peoples fears and suffering. That is less news than there was on the 15 minute news casts in the 50's.

You might be asking PT Pastor, why do you watch? Well the answer is that I watch less and less. The more half-hours they put on the less I watch. There is one station that has 2 hours in the morning, 1 hour at noon, 1 1/2 in the late afternoon and 1 1/2 at night. Of 6 hours of airtime, beside traffic and weather a bout 3 minutes are news. Truth is that I watch because I want to know what is happening in my metro area and the TV is the way I got that news as a child and I want it back.

I would not mind, so much, if they called this programming an entertainment show with news updates but they call it all news. I wish is that the local public broadcasting channel would do an 1/2 hour news program each night (with the caveat that they could not do their fund raising during that time period but that is another blog altogether.)

Then maybe we could get, to paraphrase Jack Webb from "Dragnet" - Just the news Ma'am.

(You can click on the cartoon for larger image)

Finished

2006-12-15T10:14:00.000-06:00

For those of you who have been anxiously waiting to hear how my Christmas lighting project has come out. I finished last night with the last extension cord in place!

The only problem now is - somehow I have ended up with about four extra strands of lights.

Look out back porch here I come. Have I become obsessed?

Broken Promises

2006-12-14T11:44:00.000-06:00

When a couple of friends of mine were called to a new church two years ago. Part of their decision process was to ask if they could afford to make the move. To move would involve them taking less money and not a small sum. The church promised that they would pay them to at leased the same level of compensation they received at their previous church, if not more the next year. Well, in the first year the church grew and the increased giving could cover the needed increases several times, but there was no increase. This year they had to ask for the increase because of some very caring and giving actions taken in their lives back fired. They took in a church members teenage grandson who needed some stability in his life that ended up with the wrecking of both their cars plus legal fees.

One of the hardest things for a pastor to do is go to the governing body of the church and ask for more money. When I was in this position I had mixed feeling of what it means to serve God and the giving unto Cesar what is Caesar's but also receive a living wage. Church members also do not make it easy to talk about finances. I don't even want to get started on giving.

The relationship between a pastor and the church is a covenant. One of the realities of scripture is that God has made covenants with God's people from the beginning and the one constant is that God always keeps the covenants and the people always brake them. Bad things often happen when covenants are broken.

This church they are serving has broken it's promise to my friends. I am not saying they are God but they are two of the most giving people I have ever known. They have often made decisions that were not always best for their own security but have followed where they believe God is call. In this church they have kept their part of the covenant. Bad thing probability will not happen but the relationship has changed.

I guess the crux of my frustration is why to so many faithful people find it easier to break a covenant within the church context but not in all the other parts of their lives where they would not dream of breaking promises without thought or discomfort. Such as:

Not pay their taxes

Not pay their utilities

Not pay their doctor

And they would not stand for not getting paid for the work they do. I know there are people who are forced to make decisions between eating and paying the doctor, between paying rent and living in the street. For the people in this church this is not the case.

What makes me angry is that most often the people who could be more generous and have the ware with all to be giving (financially) are the first to over look the needs in front of them. I think it is because if a person has suffered they know what it is to hurt, to be without. In my experience the people most likely to tithe are the ones who could use what they are giving for basic needs (i.e. the women and two coins).

My hunch is there are a lot of people in my friends present church, particularly the one who do not see why the pastors need more money, who have never wanted for anything.

@#%$&, @#&^ Lights!

2006-12-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

If you have read my previous blog on Christmas decorations "The Dreaded Season of Yart,"you will know that I have mixed feeling when it comes to decorating for Christmas. Last year we put white lights on the bushes and a wreath on the door and called it good.

When we moved into our home the previous owner proudly told me that he was leaving the Christmas lights for us to use because they looked great on the house. Well they were icicles lights and after living in Texas for a number of years and seeing icicles in place never intended to have icicles I told myself I would never use icicles lights.

Never say never. I should have learned by now that if I am destined to do something I can count on it if I utter the magical phrase "I Never...." As a child I can remember telling my parents I never wanted to live in Texas. Guess what, I lived there for ten years. I remember when my 1979 Ford gave me nothing but trouble I said, I would never by another Ford. Guess what I am presently driving.

You can also guess what I have been doing over the last three days. Yes, you are correct I have been trying to hang icicle lights on our house. All the hangers were in place, in the garage, all the lights worked. The weather was as good as it was going to get. So, on Saturday I put them up. Guess what, after I got the lights up - fighting uneven ground, bushes, trees and gutters that did not want to cooperate - portions of four of the six strings of lights that worked in the garage did not work when hung on the house. I did not spew unseemly words, this was just the first attempt.

I decided to get four new strands of icicle lights and try again next day. The next day I took down the offending strings of lights and started to replace them with new lights. Well, the new lights were 8 inches shorter than the old, internally I went @#%$&*- @#*&^! .

So, I realized that I was going to have to take all the lights down and get a few more strings. Okay I can do that. Yesterday I got the rest of the lights. We now have a whole new set of icicle lights (hit self upside head). The weather is warmer. It appears that God is in heaven and all is right with the world. I get the lights up with few difficulties and lots of electrical tape. I plug them in and guess what, right dab in the middle of the middle string on the longest and most difficult run of lights, there are 5 lines of icicles that are dark. This time I mutter to self softly @#%$& - @#*& - *****.

Tonight I will replace that middle string of lights.

I don't think I will be mutter softly this time if they don't work.

Happy Birthday

2006-12-09T19:27:00.000-06:00

Every time Son sees a lighted candle he starts singing "Happy Birthday to You." At brother in-law's birthday dinner he sang happy birthday all through dinner until Sister could take it no longer and asked Niece to blow out single candle in the middle of the table. After this was done Son sat with a contented smile. With an expressing saying - at last - thank you.

This a happened last night at office dinner but he has started to add Amen. He went from table to table where there were candles singing and amening.

Tonight he has taken the one step further. We were having a father son moment watching National Lampoons Animal House. There is the seine where there Boone, Katie, Pinto and the professor are opening their minds and there are two candles in the center. Son sees this, points and says, Happy Birthday? Happy Birthday? There is no way I can blow those candles out so it was night, night time.

Tomorrow we are celebrating Sister birthday so he will have a good reason to sing.

This week he are staring to sing "Jingle Bells" it okay know but come the 4Th of July.

If this happens Amen (So be it)

Gloom, Despair and Agony on Me ....

2006-12-08T08:18:00.000-06:00

Deep dark depression, excessive misery.

The best show in the history of TV, in my opinion, is coming to the end of it's fourth season. I watched the season finally of The Wire last night on HBO "On demand".

For the first time in my TV watching history I had that hollow yearning for more I sometime get when finishing a good book. At the end of the other three seasons I had feeling of regret but this it was a deep felt NO!! So many of the characters have changed the basic way they understand life that I want to see more, now.

The other reason for my lament is that in my reading about the series in the print media, is that it appears that next year's season might be the last for the series (most likely will be.) As the season finished last night it showed the characters as they were going about living life in the context of their changed reality. This change of reality has occurred over the series and the pace has been accelerated this year; some in pain, some in hope and some numbness. It feels like I have been living with a health vibrant friend watching and sharing their lives becoming, more complex and full than ever before and then being told that by this time next year they will be dead.

I know this is just a just a TV show and I should be more involved in my own community instead of being caught up in a fictionalized community set in Baltimore but I truly feel after watching this series I come to better understand the humanity of people struggling to understand their lives in relation to persons they would normally see as being on the "other side."

I guess at the bottom of this all is that the creators of the show have brought to life my understanding of the world around me.

There is no black and white, just gray. That in every person there is good and bad.

That most people make decisions with good intentions, contaminated by self interest.

And that there is hope of change for the better but that every change for the good has the possibility of unexpected consequences.

As Son would say "Oh my"