Growing up, the only science I was really interested in was science fiction. For me, the anatomy of aliens was far more fascinating than the anatomy of celery, so I didn't really care about science in school. Sure, there were times when we got to do neat stuff like dissect frogs or take apart owl pellets, but science in and of itself never grabbed my attention. To be fair, neither did math. Or history. Or economics. P.E. was cool.
My initial point is this: the thoughts I share below aren't steeped in scientific education per se, but I hope the idea comes across in a meaningful way.
And so I begin.
As much as I can recall, science and faith have always seemed to be at odds with one another.
Yet it wasn't always this way.
The great minds of scientific history were also some of the great theologians of their time.
Isaac Newton, Blaise Pascal, Johannes Kepler, and others had a deep conviction about their faith in God.
The argument could be made that these men were religious simply because of their culture.
It's my opinion, however, that science itself had a large and strengthening impact on their faith.
For different reasons, however, it seems to me that in today's culture, serious scientific thought cannot include faith in God.
And I think what's happened in the field of science is that the wonder of discovery has given way to the cold realism of figuring something out.
When something is discovered, the heart rejoices and holds in awe whatever it is that was uncovered.
Yet, when something is figured out, the heart grows prideful at what it's accomplished.
I believe Science used to be about discovery. And when something wonderful was discovered, the praise and glory of that discovery when up towards the Creator for making such a wonderful thing.
Yet the Creator has been pushed aside, and now, instead of working towards awe and wonder at why things work the way they do, we simply want to know how.
We're not interested in the passage of time so much as we're interested in knowing how the clock works.
And when we figure out how something works, instead of discovering more about it (and as a result, more of God) then we generate a false sense of ownership about that particular thing.
Instead of having a sense of awe and wonder about the beginning of life itself, and the possibilities and ramifications that life may have here on Earth, we take ownership of that life, claiming to understand how it functions instead of accepting the truths of why it exista. And so we can justify terminating that life at our will, because it belongs to us.
Do you see the difference between discovery and figuring it out?
Discovery leaves no room for pride. Figuring it out, however, creates the perfect atmosphere for it.
Well it's late and I'm tired.
I hope these ramblings made a little bit of sense.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Sunday, September 18, 2011
A few weeks ago, something on the interpipes got me a'thinkin'.
After being presented with flowers by a fan, Madonna was overheard on a "hot mic" complaining about how she loathed hydrangeas, a type of flower I never even knew existed.
(If you're that interested in the whole thing, you can see the dis here.)
After the UTTER SHOCK wore off (.015 seconds later) I went along my merry way and completely forgot about the whole thing.
But as I sit here, sharing some more random thoughts, I'm reminded of other incidents where people sitting in front of live mics or rolling cameras say or do really stupid stuff and then are blasted for it on all the news channels and gossip magazines.
Airplane pilots, actors and actresses, even Presidents past and present. No one, it seems, is immune.
Especially me. But more on that in a bit.
All of this reminds me of something Jesus Christ said.
"The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
(Matthew 12:35-37 ESV)
For the sake of context, allow me to explain that Christ's audience in this portion of scripture were very religious people, those described by Jesus as "white-washed tombs."
In other words, these guys were about appearances only. Their hearts, on the other hand, were just as broken and filthy as those they condemned.
Yet His warning to them is valid to everyone else as well: our words display our character. And while we may think that the words we say are private and unnoticed by others, that idea couldn't be further from the truth.
In fact, we are warned that all of our words, careless or otherwise, are known by God.
So imagine for a second that you are wearing a mic at all times. Imagine for a moment that a camera is following your every move, catching your every step.
This might seem a bit much, right? I mean, I certainly am not that important that people would want to see and hear everything I do or say, right? Why should my words be so critical?
They are important, and here's why: our words reveal our character.
As believers, our character should be focused and centered on Christ. And if our words and actions aren't reflecting Christ in a worthy manner, than something needs to be adjusted.
And I've been guilty of this. Lots.
Recently my wife scolded me, and with good reason, for behaving and talking in such a way that did NOT reflect Christ well.
I'll be the first to admit that I like to joke around and get some laughs when I'm in a group of people. This time, however, I crossed a line. And while the laughs were there, the reward was missing. This was an obvious sign to me that I had said things that weren't nice.
My mic was hot and I was caught.
Want to know the really "Art's a doofus" part? I'd thought of this post a few days before I goofed up.
You see? It's REALLY easy to forget that our words matter.
So as I pick myself up and repent, and as I dust myself off, I have a responsibility to be even more mindful of the words that come from my mouth.
Jesus prefaces his warning in Matthew by saying "the tree is known by its fruit."
I hope that my gaff helps remind all of you to be mindful of the fruit that's on display.
Be careful of the words you speak, because that mic is hot.
God bless!
After being presented with flowers by a fan, Madonna was overheard on a "hot mic" complaining about how she loathed hydrangeas, a type of flower I never even knew existed.
(If you're that interested in the whole thing, you can see the dis here.)
After the UTTER SHOCK wore off (.015 seconds later) I went along my merry way and completely forgot about the whole thing.
But as I sit here, sharing some more random thoughts, I'm reminded of other incidents where people sitting in front of live mics or rolling cameras say or do really stupid stuff and then are blasted for it on all the news channels and gossip magazines.
Airplane pilots, actors and actresses, even Presidents past and present. No one, it seems, is immune.
Especially me. But more on that in a bit.
All of this reminds me of something Jesus Christ said.
"The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
(Matthew 12:35-37 ESV)
For the sake of context, allow me to explain that Christ's audience in this portion of scripture were very religious people, those described by Jesus as "white-washed tombs."
In other words, these guys were about appearances only. Their hearts, on the other hand, were just as broken and filthy as those they condemned.
Yet His warning to them is valid to everyone else as well: our words display our character. And while we may think that the words we say are private and unnoticed by others, that idea couldn't be further from the truth.
In fact, we are warned that all of our words, careless or otherwise, are known by God.
So imagine for a second that you are wearing a mic at all times. Imagine for a moment that a camera is following your every move, catching your every step.
This might seem a bit much, right? I mean, I certainly am not that important that people would want to see and hear everything I do or say, right? Why should my words be so critical?
They are important, and here's why: our words reveal our character.
As believers, our character should be focused and centered on Christ. And if our words and actions aren't reflecting Christ in a worthy manner, than something needs to be adjusted.
And I've been guilty of this. Lots.
Recently my wife scolded me, and with good reason, for behaving and talking in such a way that did NOT reflect Christ well.
I'll be the first to admit that I like to joke around and get some laughs when I'm in a group of people. This time, however, I crossed a line. And while the laughs were there, the reward was missing. This was an obvious sign to me that I had said things that weren't nice.
My mic was hot and I was caught.
Want to know the really "Art's a doofus" part? I'd thought of this post a few days before I goofed up.
You see? It's REALLY easy to forget that our words matter.
So as I pick myself up and repent, and as I dust myself off, I have a responsibility to be even more mindful of the words that come from my mouth.
Jesus prefaces his warning in Matthew by saying "the tree is known by its fruit."
I hope that my gaff helps remind all of you to be mindful of the fruit that's on display.
Be careful of the words you speak, because that mic is hot.
God bless!
Monday, July 25, 2011
MY take on Carl Medearis' take
e·van·ge·lism / Noun
The spreading of the Christian gospel by preaching or personal witness.
After recently reading an article on CNN's Belief Blog, I felt compelled to respond as quickly as I could.
Quick responses can easily work for you and against you. On one hand, your ideas are fresh in your mind and it's easier to get them all out instead of losing some over the few hours you might've waited in responding.
On the other hand, quick responses are usually shot from the hip, a result of acting out too quickly without giving enough thought to the topic(s) at hand.
I hope my response isn't too crazy, but please feel free to let me know if I totally miss the point or do something silly like truly offend you.
Before going on any further, I encourage you to read the article your self:
My Take: Why evangelicals should stop evangelizing
http://bit.ly/pnvatZ
In his blog Carl Medearis seems to be examining the negative perceptions of evangelism and wonders aloud about what the right approach should be.
Since you took my earlier advice and you've read the article for yourself, I'll focus on a few specific pieces of Mr. Medearis' post.
Medearis begins his article with an exercise that he hopes will show the reader how polarizing the term "evangelist" or "missionary" can be.
This isn't new. In fact evangelists, pastors, and prophets have historically been people that society hasn't viewed very favorably. In fact, the closer the person's message was to the voice of God, the more unpopular they were. Christ uses the parable of the tenants in Matthew 21 as a vivid description of the abuse the prophets of the Old Testament endured as messengers of God.
But to the believer, the office of evangelist or prophet is one of honor.
Yes, there is a wide difference between the two connotations, but that difference has existed for generations.
As Medearis continues, he writes "This us-versus-them thinking is odd, given that Jesus was constantly breaking down walls between Jews and Gentiles, rich and poor, men and women, sinners and saints. That’s why we have the parable of the Good Samaritan."
I believe this is a poor understanding of the story of the Good Samaritan. If anything, throughout the Gospel Christ teaches us that these "walls" never existed. In fact, we're all in the same boat, we're part of the same community: sinners in need of a savior.
As Medearis proceeds, he writes "Even the Apostle Paul insisted that it’s faith in Jesus that matters, not converting to a new religion or a new socio-religious identity."
The fact is, faith in Jesus EQUALS conversion. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5 about the effects of this conversion saying "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."
Our faith in Christ, if genuine, does indeed begin to convert us from one thing to another. From darkness to light. From death to life. From estrangement to restored relationship.
Medearis posits that perhaps its our view of Christ that leads to evangelism being so negative.
"Jesus the uniter of humanity, not Jesus the divider. How might that change the way we look at others?"
I counter that position with the one held by Christ: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." (Matthew 10:34)
Christ indeed wants to draw, or unite, all men unto himself. But there are a lot of folks out there who have no personal desire to be united with Christ. In fact, one person's desire to be united to Christ will undoubtedly cause friction and hostility in another person. Christ teaches us that this is to be expected.
Yet, we ought to live our lives as Christians in love. That's why it's so important for us to properly perform our duties as ministers of reconciliation, as Paul puts it.
Medearis writes that he is no longer is obsessed with converting people to Christianity and has instead found "that talking about Jesus is much easier and far more compelling."
Unbelievers and those of other faiths can talk about Jesus until they're blue in the face. We can all agree that Jesus of Nazareth existed. But it has to go deeper than that.
James tells us that even the demons believe, and, he adds, they shudder! It seems demons have more sense of God's reality than some folks do.
Please know that Christ is more than an example for us humans to live up to or pattern our lives after.
John Stott writes in Basic Christianity "Not only would much in the Gospels remain mysterious if Christ's death were purely an example, but our human need would remain unsatisfied. We need more than an example; we need a Savior."
The fact that Christ is God, and that He came to this place to die for our sins, is a reality that every human being will have to grapple with. That truth must be dealt with. By faith, we accept that truth and begin to live under the power of the Holy Spirit as we're transformed from one thing to a glorious other.
Finally, Medearis writes "Jesus met people where they were. Instead of trying to figure out who’s “in” and who’s “out,” why don’t we simply invite people to follow Jesus — and let Jesus run his kingdom?"
The truth is, without Christ, we're all out. And our need for Christ is only apparent when we can admit our sinful nature.
Medearis concludes his article by stating the obvious: "Inviting people to love, trust, and follow Jesus is something the world can live with."
I completely agree. But I believe evangelism is something we need to be vocal and visible about.
If we begin to wrap evangelism up with political correctness, we do a great disservice to the Message and to those who desperately need to hear it.
The spreading of the Christian gospel by preaching or personal witness.
After recently reading an article on CNN's Belief Blog, I felt compelled to respond as quickly as I could.
Quick responses can easily work for you and against you. On one hand, your ideas are fresh in your mind and it's easier to get them all out instead of losing some over the few hours you might've waited in responding.
On the other hand, quick responses are usually shot from the hip, a result of acting out too quickly without giving enough thought to the topic(s) at hand.
I hope my response isn't too crazy, but please feel free to let me know if I totally miss the point or do something silly like truly offend you.
Before going on any further, I encourage you to read the article your self:
My Take: Why evangelicals should stop evangelizing
http://bit.ly/pnvatZ
In his blog Carl Medearis seems to be examining the negative perceptions of evangelism and wonders aloud about what the right approach should be.
Since you took my earlier advice and you've read the article for yourself, I'll focus on a few specific pieces of Mr. Medearis' post.
Medearis begins his article with an exercise that he hopes will show the reader how polarizing the term "evangelist" or "missionary" can be.
This isn't new. In fact evangelists, pastors, and prophets have historically been people that society hasn't viewed very favorably. In fact, the closer the person's message was to the voice of God, the more unpopular they were. Christ uses the parable of the tenants in Matthew 21 as a vivid description of the abuse the prophets of the Old Testament endured as messengers of God.
But to the believer, the office of evangelist or prophet is one of honor.
Yes, there is a wide difference between the two connotations, but that difference has existed for generations.
As Medearis continues, he writes "This us-versus-them thinking is odd, given that Jesus was constantly breaking down walls between Jews and Gentiles, rich and poor, men and women, sinners and saints. That’s why we have the parable of the Good Samaritan."
I believe this is a poor understanding of the story of the Good Samaritan. If anything, throughout the Gospel Christ teaches us that these "walls" never existed. In fact, we're all in the same boat, we're part of the same community: sinners in need of a savior.
As Medearis proceeds, he writes "Even the Apostle Paul insisted that it’s faith in Jesus that matters, not converting to a new religion or a new socio-religious identity."
The fact is, faith in Jesus EQUALS conversion. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5 about the effects of this conversion saying "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."
Our faith in Christ, if genuine, does indeed begin to convert us from one thing to another. From darkness to light. From death to life. From estrangement to restored relationship.
Medearis posits that perhaps its our view of Christ that leads to evangelism being so negative.
"Jesus the uniter of humanity, not Jesus the divider. How might that change the way we look at others?"
I counter that position with the one held by Christ: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." (Matthew 10:34)
Christ indeed wants to draw, or unite, all men unto himself. But there are a lot of folks out there who have no personal desire to be united with Christ. In fact, one person's desire to be united to Christ will undoubtedly cause friction and hostility in another person. Christ teaches us that this is to be expected.
Yet, we ought to live our lives as Christians in love. That's why it's so important for us to properly perform our duties as ministers of reconciliation, as Paul puts it.
Medearis writes that he is no longer is obsessed with converting people to Christianity and has instead found "that talking about Jesus is much easier and far more compelling."
Unbelievers and those of other faiths can talk about Jesus until they're blue in the face. We can all agree that Jesus of Nazareth existed. But it has to go deeper than that.
James tells us that even the demons believe, and, he adds, they shudder! It seems demons have more sense of God's reality than some folks do.
Please know that Christ is more than an example for us humans to live up to or pattern our lives after.
John Stott writes in Basic Christianity "Not only would much in the Gospels remain mysterious if Christ's death were purely an example, but our human need would remain unsatisfied. We need more than an example; we need a Savior."
The fact that Christ is God, and that He came to this place to die for our sins, is a reality that every human being will have to grapple with. That truth must be dealt with. By faith, we accept that truth and begin to live under the power of the Holy Spirit as we're transformed from one thing to a glorious other.
Finally, Medearis writes "Jesus met people where they were. Instead of trying to figure out who’s “in” and who’s “out,” why don’t we simply invite people to follow Jesus — and let Jesus run his kingdom?"
The truth is, without Christ, we're all out. And our need for Christ is only apparent when we can admit our sinful nature.
Medearis concludes his article by stating the obvious: "Inviting people to love, trust, and follow Jesus is something the world can live with."
I completely agree. But I believe evangelism is something we need to be vocal and visible about.
If we begin to wrap evangelism up with political correctness, we do a great disservice to the Message and to those who desperately need to hear it.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Let everything that has breath ...
Ahhh ... New neighbors.
In today's economy, my wife and I have seen families come and go in our neighborhood. Some seem to be staying for good while others have only stayed for a few days before packing up and moving again.
The other night, as I went to sit in my backyard for some time in His word and prayer, I was greeted with some festive sounds coming from one if the houses behind ours.
And when I say festive, I mean fiddle and guitar.
This was Mexican folk music being sung by a few gentlemen who no doubt had been having a great time celebrating with their friends and family.
When this type of music is being played at parties such as this one, something from my past begins to smile inside. And even though I don't understand the words that are being sung, something inside of me wants to sing along.
I sat for several minutes and enjoyed the music, as simple as it was. I smiled as I heard children running around in the dark, playing their silly games, following the silly instructions of the older primos.
I was reminded of the family get-togethers we would go to when I was growing up.
The loud laughing.
The silly stories.
Those were times I will always remember.
And as I sat there enjoying the sounds and the music, I imagined that Heaven would have a similar atmosphere of celebration.
The family.
The friends.
The music.
The worship.
Christ told the woman at the well that the time was coming, and indeed was present, when "the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth ..."
Looking at that portion of scripture, what stands out to me is that Christ doesn't mention anything about being in tune or the presence of stringed instruments or fancy ensembles.
This worship flows from the heart.
The gentlemen playing their music that night played from the heart.
And despite the simplicity of their music, their genuineness was undeniable.
Oh, that my worship of the Father would stay as simple and true.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
What I have in common with barfing babies
For many of us, the first day of the work-week can be the most difficult day of the week.
The weekend is over, we have to get up early again, and, for some reason, everyone else at work is in the same semi-grumpy mood you're in.
It's Monday. So back off.
Truthfully, it's not that bad.
Monday has a bad rap, but in all honesty, I really don't mind Mondays.
In fact, because I don't drink much coffee during the weekend, I kinda look forward to Monday mornings so I can get to work, pour myself a cup o' joe and start the day.
(I like coffee. But I can quit any time.)
This Monday was no different. I had quite a few things lined up at work that I needed to start with, so my morning was looking pretty good.
After all, there's nothing quite like a busy morning to help the day go by super fast, right?
About an hour and a half in, however, my morning was interrupted with news that my 1-year-old was at home puking it up.
Normally this wouldn't be one of those "Can you please come home" moments for my wife.
However, we also have a 5-month-old whose guts we'd like to keep in their proper place, and the best way to ensure that happened is if we kept the two as separate as possible.
Even moms with 8 arms would have a hard time doing that alone.
So I took the rest of the day off and rushed home, my imagination running wild with what would be awaiting me.
And there she was. My daughter, Samarah, sitting quite happily in the bath-tub, enjoying the warm water and playing with her toys.
I was expecting all of us to rush to the doctor's office, but Suzanne said she seemed better. The plan was to keep an eye on her for just a while longer, and if everything seemed good, I would probably go back to work.
Crisis averted, right?
Not quite.
It soon became apparent that my little girl wasn't feeling so hot.
In fact, just a few minutes after getting Samarah dressed, it became quite obvious that Mr. Puke was not going anywhere.
Now, I don't know about you, but I have to agree with a certain Dane Cook who said there's a little tiny part of him that enjoys throwing up.
Personally speaking, barfing is a very relieving experience.
Now the moments leading up to the pukes are never fun. My skin gets clammy, my stomach starts feeling all funny, and something inside my head tells me, "Okay, Schneidster, get ready ... This is gonna be radical."
But when I'm done hurling, and it's just me and the porcelain seat, I am so relieved. It's almost euphoric.
There I sit, staring at my handiwork. My body feels better (although that can be temporary) and a small smile creeps on my face.
Thank God that's over!
Perhaps your vomiting experiences are different than mine, but there you have it.
Samarah, on the other hand, doesn't have that much experience with throwing up. It's this fact that leads me to believe she doesn't enjoy it at all.
You know how you can feel your stomach muscles begin to quiver right before you hurl?
While Samarah laid in my lap yesterday, wearing just a pamper because she wanted to take her t-shirt off, I could see her stomach doing the same thing.
In-between her childish breaths, I could see her stomach shiver.
And Samarah could feel it.
She sat up in my lap and began to press her stomach.
"No! No!" she said, in her very limited vocabulary.
I could only hold her close to myself with some paper towels under her chin as she started to heave and to ho.
I'll spare the rest of the smelly details, but please stick with me.
After she'd settled down, and after the mess(es) were cleaned up, my little girl fell asleep in my lap.
I sat there with her on the floor, her head resting on my legs.
I wasn't worried about the puke. I wasn't disgusted or grossed out. I just wanted my little girl to feel better.
Suddenly, I was reminded about how much God loves me.
You see, normally, when I hear people throwing up, I get sick myself. And if I even catch a whiff of puke, you can bet I'll start sharing some of my own.
But these were not normal circumstances. This was one of my beautiful princesses.
When she started to get sick, all I could think to do was hold her closer to me.
In her tears and her struggles, all I could do was pull her tighter to me and whisper in her ear, "Daddy's right here. I've got you. It's gonna be okay."
And my Father does the same thing with me.
Romans 8:38-39 reads this way: "For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
There are many times in our lives when things can get pretty icky. In fact, they can get downright gross.
We start to thrash around and really don't know how to handle things.
And despite all this, our Father hugs us closer and gently reminds us that He's there for us, and that He's not going anywhere.
While the rest of the world tries to create distance, my Father fills the void.
While the rest of the world holds its nose in disgust, my Father opens His hands with grace and mercy.
This is my Father.
He holds me close when others push away.
He whispers his promises while others shout their empty threats.
This is my Father.
Thankfully, my little girl is feeling a lot better. And I'm not sure if she'll ever remember the lovely times we shared together that morning.
But I hope she recalls the feeling of security she had, even in her most desperate moment.
And I hope I remember, too.
The weekend is over, we have to get up early again, and, for some reason, everyone else at work is in the same semi-grumpy mood you're in.
It's Monday. So back off.
Truthfully, it's not that bad.
Monday has a bad rap, but in all honesty, I really don't mind Mondays.
In fact, because I don't drink much coffee during the weekend, I kinda look forward to Monday mornings so I can get to work, pour myself a cup o' joe and start the day.
(I like coffee. But I can quit any time.)
This Monday was no different. I had quite a few things lined up at work that I needed to start with, so my morning was looking pretty good.
After all, there's nothing quite like a busy morning to help the day go by super fast, right?
About an hour and a half in, however, my morning was interrupted with news that my 1-year-old was at home puking it up.
Normally this wouldn't be one of those "Can you please come home" moments for my wife.
However, we also have a 5-month-old whose guts we'd like to keep in their proper place, and the best way to ensure that happened is if we kept the two as separate as possible.
Even moms with 8 arms would have a hard time doing that alone.
So I took the rest of the day off and rushed home, my imagination running wild with what would be awaiting me.
And there she was. My daughter, Samarah, sitting quite happily in the bath-tub, enjoying the warm water and playing with her toys.
I was expecting all of us to rush to the doctor's office, but Suzanne said she seemed better. The plan was to keep an eye on her for just a while longer, and if everything seemed good, I would probably go back to work.
Crisis averted, right?
Not quite.
It soon became apparent that my little girl wasn't feeling so hot.
In fact, just a few minutes after getting Samarah dressed, it became quite obvious that Mr. Puke was not going anywhere.
Now, I don't know about you, but I have to agree with a certain Dane Cook who said there's a little tiny part of him that enjoys throwing up.
Personally speaking, barfing is a very relieving experience.
Now the moments leading up to the pukes are never fun. My skin gets clammy, my stomach starts feeling all funny, and something inside my head tells me, "Okay, Schneidster, get ready ... This is gonna be radical."
But when I'm done hurling, and it's just me and the porcelain seat, I am so relieved. It's almost euphoric.
There I sit, staring at my handiwork. My body feels better (although that can be temporary) and a small smile creeps on my face.
Thank God that's over!
Perhaps your vomiting experiences are different than mine, but there you have it.
Samarah, on the other hand, doesn't have that much experience with throwing up. It's this fact that leads me to believe she doesn't enjoy it at all.
You know how you can feel your stomach muscles begin to quiver right before you hurl?
While Samarah laid in my lap yesterday, wearing just a pamper because she wanted to take her t-shirt off, I could see her stomach doing the same thing.
In-between her childish breaths, I could see her stomach shiver.
And Samarah could feel it.
She sat up in my lap and began to press her stomach.
"No! No!" she said, in her very limited vocabulary.
I could only hold her close to myself with some paper towels under her chin as she started to heave and to ho.
I'll spare the rest of the smelly details, but please stick with me.
After she'd settled down, and after the mess(es) were cleaned up, my little girl fell asleep in my lap.
I sat there with her on the floor, her head resting on my legs.
I wasn't worried about the puke. I wasn't disgusted or grossed out. I just wanted my little girl to feel better.
Suddenly, I was reminded about how much God loves me.
You see, normally, when I hear people throwing up, I get sick myself. And if I even catch a whiff of puke, you can bet I'll start sharing some of my own.
But these were not normal circumstances. This was one of my beautiful princesses.
When she started to get sick, all I could think to do was hold her closer to me.
In her tears and her struggles, all I could do was pull her tighter to me and whisper in her ear, "Daddy's right here. I've got you. It's gonna be okay."
And my Father does the same thing with me.
Romans 8:38-39 reads this way: "For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
There are many times in our lives when things can get pretty icky. In fact, they can get downright gross.
We start to thrash around and really don't know how to handle things.
And despite all this, our Father hugs us closer and gently reminds us that He's there for us, and that He's not going anywhere.
While the rest of the world tries to create distance, my Father fills the void.
While the rest of the world holds its nose in disgust, my Father opens His hands with grace and mercy.
This is my Father.
He holds me close when others push away.
He whispers his promises while others shout their empty threats.
This is my Father.
Thankfully, my little girl is feeling a lot better. And I'm not sure if she'll ever remember the lovely times we shared together that morning.
But I hope she recalls the feeling of security she had, even in her most desperate moment.
And I hope I remember, too.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
No Facebook for a while ...
Hey everyone,
Thanks for checking out this blog o' mine.
As I take a fast from Facebook for a little while, I hope that you can check out this page and enjoy my silly ramblings every once in a while.
As you can tell from my last post here, it's been a while since I've updated this blog.
I hope to change that.
So follow along :)
~ Art
Thanks for checking out this blog o' mine.
As I take a fast from Facebook for a little while, I hope that you can check out this page and enjoy my silly ramblings every once in a while.
As you can tell from my last post here, it's been a while since I've updated this blog.
I hope to change that.
So follow along :)
~ Art
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Light.
This morning, my youngest daughter decided she was going to get up a little early and stay awake with her daddy.
Actually, I thought she was going to go right back to sleep, so I told my wife that I'd take her with me downstairs so I could study His Word a bit, and they could both sleep soundly.
Liviyah, our 7-week old, had other plans.
As the two of us came downstairs, I decided I'd hold her until she fell back asleep. Then I'd put her down in her bassinet and get to studying.
Again, things didn't go as I'd planned.
Instead, as I held Liviyah to my chest, her eyes stayed wide open.
I'm always fascinated by the way my baby daughter can just stare off into space.
As an infant, her eyes are still adjusting to this new thing called sight. In fact, at her age, unless what she's staring at is right in her face, it's all a blur.
Until her eyes are strong enough to focus on objects that are far away, they remain fuzzy and indistinct from everything else.
But this morning, as she strained to keep her head up, I noticed that her eyes were focused on one thing: the light coming from behind the curtains.
As I held her steady, and watched her face, Liviyah's eyes never strayed from what was undoubtedly the single most fascinating thing in her field of vision: the light.
When we moved into our house, my wife had an exciting time carefully picking out the curtains that are still in our living room.
Light tan and what I would call a soft-olive green hang from the windows and cast a nice light into the room.
And Liviyah was fascinated.
This got me thinking about a few things, and after I was finally able to lay Liviyah down, I grabbed my Bible and turned to John 8.
There, Jesus makes a wild claim about himself.
In verse 12 He says "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but have the light of life."
Now at first glance, this claim seems like a beautiful metaphor.
Light. Darkness. Life.
But as other scriptures regarding light crept into my heart, I began to understand that this light and this darkness that Christ speaks of are more than metaphor.
In fact, this light and this darkness are real.
Recently, my wife and I watched a movie where darkness became very real for one of the characters.
After a mother and father make a series of bad decisions, based on one really selfish one, the antagonist of the film gives them a haunting choice: they can both live the rest of their lives enjoying the "fruits" of their selfish choice. Their only son, however, will live the rest of his life deaf. And blind.
Or they can sacrifice one of themselves to restore the missing senses to their son.
Don't worry, I won't ruin it for you.
But again, this got me thinking about light and darkness.
Blindness is always the result of some cause; sickness, abnormality, physical damage, etc.
In other words, something happens to an individual, one way or the other, that causes a person to go blind, plunging them into darkness.
The blindness causes the darkness.
The darkness that Christ speaks of, however, behaves differently.
In describing the danger of hating a brother, the Apostle John writes in his first epistle that one who walks in darkness "does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded him."
Here we see something fascinating: the darkness causes the blindness.
And it is this darkness, this active, working, present darkness that Christ claims to deliver us from.
We walk in the midst of this darkness.
And without Christ in our hearts, we are held captive by it.
We are chained to this darkness.
We are subject to this darkness.
This darkness is working in our hearts, blinding our eyes and our hearts so that we cannot see where we are going.
So that we cannot understand why we are living.
And so we stumble and grope, walking along the walls.
"We grope for the wall like the blind;
we grope like those who have no eyes;
we stumble at noon as in the twilight,
among those in full vigor we are like dead men."
~ Isaiah 59:10
Fortunately, and thankfully, there is hope for our blindness.
Christ is the light to which we can look and which we can have with us to carry in our hearts.
The Apostle Paul reminds us in his letter to the Ephesians that our struggle with this darkness goes much deeper than what we can see or feel or touch.
Our blindness is not caused by a failing of our pupils or retinas.
No, our struggle is much more serious than that.
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."
~ Ephesians 6:12
Our opponents are spiritual, and our opponents embody darkness.
And so we live in this blackness, citizens of a town called Dark.
Yet there is hope!
"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined."
~ Isaiah 9:2
This light is Jesus Christ, just as He claimed.
And just like the Darkness of this world behaves with different properties and intentions, so this Light moves with unique attributes and qualities.
This Light carries with it life.
And it is only in His Light that we have any hope of overcoming the Darkness.
The Apostle John declares in the beginning of his Gospel that "In him (Christ) was life, and the life was the light of men."
Coming into the Light of Christ is much more than gaining our sight. We gain life.
Christ has come to do more than rescue us from the Darkness.
He's come to remove us from Darkness, to place us in His Light.
Actually, I thought she was going to go right back to sleep, so I told my wife that I'd take her with me downstairs so I could study His Word a bit, and they could both sleep soundly.
Liviyah, our 7-week old, had other plans.
As the two of us came downstairs, I decided I'd hold her until she fell back asleep. Then I'd put her down in her bassinet and get to studying.
Again, things didn't go as I'd planned.
Instead, as I held Liviyah to my chest, her eyes stayed wide open.
I'm always fascinated by the way my baby daughter can just stare off into space.
As an infant, her eyes are still adjusting to this new thing called sight. In fact, at her age, unless what she's staring at is right in her face, it's all a blur.
Until her eyes are strong enough to focus on objects that are far away, they remain fuzzy and indistinct from everything else.
But this morning, as she strained to keep her head up, I noticed that her eyes were focused on one thing: the light coming from behind the curtains.
As I held her steady, and watched her face, Liviyah's eyes never strayed from what was undoubtedly the single most fascinating thing in her field of vision: the light.
When we moved into our house, my wife had an exciting time carefully picking out the curtains that are still in our living room.
Light tan and what I would call a soft-olive green hang from the windows and cast a nice light into the room.
And Liviyah was fascinated.
This got me thinking about a few things, and after I was finally able to lay Liviyah down, I grabbed my Bible and turned to John 8.
There, Jesus makes a wild claim about himself.
In verse 12 He says "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but have the light of life."
Now at first glance, this claim seems like a beautiful metaphor.
Light. Darkness. Life.
But as other scriptures regarding light crept into my heart, I began to understand that this light and this darkness that Christ speaks of are more than metaphor.
In fact, this light and this darkness are real.
Recently, my wife and I watched a movie where darkness became very real for one of the characters.
After a mother and father make a series of bad decisions, based on one really selfish one, the antagonist of the film gives them a haunting choice: they can both live the rest of their lives enjoying the "fruits" of their selfish choice. Their only son, however, will live the rest of his life deaf. And blind.
Or they can sacrifice one of themselves to restore the missing senses to their son.
Don't worry, I won't ruin it for you.
But again, this got me thinking about light and darkness.
Blindness is always the result of some cause; sickness, abnormality, physical damage, etc.
In other words, something happens to an individual, one way or the other, that causes a person to go blind, plunging them into darkness.
The blindness causes the darkness.
The darkness that Christ speaks of, however, behaves differently.
In describing the danger of hating a brother, the Apostle John writes in his first epistle that one who walks in darkness "does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded him."
Here we see something fascinating: the darkness causes the blindness.
And it is this darkness, this active, working, present darkness that Christ claims to deliver us from.
We walk in the midst of this darkness.
And without Christ in our hearts, we are held captive by it.
We are chained to this darkness.
We are subject to this darkness.
This darkness is working in our hearts, blinding our eyes and our hearts so that we cannot see where we are going.
So that we cannot understand why we are living.
And so we stumble and grope, walking along the walls.
"We grope for the wall like the blind;
we grope like those who have no eyes;
we stumble at noon as in the twilight,
among those in full vigor we are like dead men."
~ Isaiah 59:10
Fortunately, and thankfully, there is hope for our blindness.
Christ is the light to which we can look and which we can have with us to carry in our hearts.
The Apostle Paul reminds us in his letter to the Ephesians that our struggle with this darkness goes much deeper than what we can see or feel or touch.
Our blindness is not caused by a failing of our pupils or retinas.
No, our struggle is much more serious than that.
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."
~ Ephesians 6:12
Our opponents are spiritual, and our opponents embody darkness.
And so we live in this blackness, citizens of a town called Dark.
Yet there is hope!
"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined."
~ Isaiah 9:2
This light is Jesus Christ, just as He claimed.
And just like the Darkness of this world behaves with different properties and intentions, so this Light moves with unique attributes and qualities.
This Light carries with it life.
And it is only in His Light that we have any hope of overcoming the Darkness.
The Apostle John declares in the beginning of his Gospel that "In him (Christ) was life, and the life was the light of men."
Coming into the Light of Christ is much more than gaining our sight. We gain life.
Christ has come to do more than rescue us from the Darkness.
He's come to remove us from Darkness, to place us in His Light.
"He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son"
~ Colossians 1:13
As spiritual infants, it may be hard to distinguish the beautiful truths of Scripture and it may be difficult to ponder the wonderful mysteries of our faith.
But we can all stare at wonder at The Light, fascinated by His beauty.
We can all gaze in awe at the wonderful sights provided by His presence in our hearts, and we can all walk with the true life of man, given to us by Christ.
The Light of Christ can never be extinguished or overcome by the Darkness.
Instead, His Light purges all darkness.
My daughter was captivated this morning.
Lord, captivate me with your light.
Let it shine all around me and deliver me from this present darkness.
Let it light my paths and guide me as I walk through this life you've given to me.
Amen.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Blogging from my phone ...
So I set up my blog so I could blog from my phone. Hopefully this will allow me to get some crazy thoughts out of my head and onto the webs before I forget.
We'll see how this goes ...
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Furlough Fridays No. 7
These furloughs are blazing by so fast.
As I sit here, working on this particular post, I'm amazed that it's already been 7 weeks since these furloughs started.
I am thankful to say that God really has been overshadowing everything from our finances to other situations during this whole time.
And while there have been some stressful times, those seem to be over and I can honestly say that things are going pretty good.
Could they be better? I guess that depends on what angle you're coming from.
Everyone has some sort of dependence on one thing or another.
Most of us have many things we depend on.
And our individual financial situations seem to be the areas that cause us the most grief.
Why is that?
I think it's because we like to be comfortable.
Or perhaps it's because we like to be comforted.
And for many people, money seems to be the one place they find that relaxation or relief.
Thankfully I have a greater source of comfort than money.
I'll be honest: money helps things go easier.
But even when I'm out of money, I still have peace.
Now let me set something straight: I'm not some sort of crazy person who doesn't stress out about anything. I get worried about this or that just as much as the next person.
What I do with those worries, however, may not be as common.
Peter writes in his first epistle, "Give all your worries to God, for He cares about you."
Now that's a lot easier said than done.
When I have my worries, I have a sense of control.
Well ... I think I can at least control how I handle the situation.
But even then I'm unsure.
When I try to figure stuff out on my own, even if I think I have the right answer, there's still that small piece of doubt in the back of my mind.
I question myself.
So to give up that control, and to hand off that worry (or group of worries) to Him, and to trust He will handle my problem(s) ... that's always a tough thing to do.
And I'm not sure if my brain will ever learn to remember all the times He's brought me through.
But my heart reminds me. And His Holy Spirit reminds me.
And so I let go.
And He takes care of me.
And for that I am thankful.
This last Friday was uneventful.
I'd really tell you about it, but there's not much to say.
I'm enjoying the time off with my family.
My wife is awesome, and my girls are amazing.
What else can I say? :-)
As I sit here, working on this particular post, I'm amazed that it's already been 7 weeks since these furloughs started.
I am thankful to say that God really has been overshadowing everything from our finances to other situations during this whole time.
And while there have been some stressful times, those seem to be over and I can honestly say that things are going pretty good.
Could they be better? I guess that depends on what angle you're coming from.
Everyone has some sort of dependence on one thing or another.
Most of us have many things we depend on.
And our individual financial situations seem to be the areas that cause us the most grief.
Why is that?
I think it's because we like to be comfortable.
Or perhaps it's because we like to be comforted.
And for many people, money seems to be the one place they find that relaxation or relief.
Thankfully I have a greater source of comfort than money.
I'll be honest: money helps things go easier.
But even when I'm out of money, I still have peace.
Now let me set something straight: I'm not some sort of crazy person who doesn't stress out about anything. I get worried about this or that just as much as the next person.
What I do with those worries, however, may not be as common.
Peter writes in his first epistle, "Give all your worries to God, for He cares about you."
Now that's a lot easier said than done.
When I have my worries, I have a sense of control.
Well ... I think I can at least control how I handle the situation.
But even then I'm unsure.
When I try to figure stuff out on my own, even if I think I have the right answer, there's still that small piece of doubt in the back of my mind.
I question myself.
So to give up that control, and to hand off that worry (or group of worries) to Him, and to trust He will handle my problem(s) ... that's always a tough thing to do.
And I'm not sure if my brain will ever learn to remember all the times He's brought me through.
But my heart reminds me. And His Holy Spirit reminds me.
And so I let go.
And He takes care of me.
And for that I am thankful.
This last Friday was uneventful.
I'd really tell you about it, but there's not much to say.
I'm enjoying the time off with my family.
My wife is awesome, and my girls are amazing.
What else can I say? :-)
Monday, September 14, 2009
Furlough Friday No. 6 ::: Furlough Interrupted
Furlough no. 6 was pretty different than the others in that it was on a Thursday instead of a Friday.
A friend at work need to swap days so she could do some wedding planning stuff, so I took Thursday off and went in on Friday.
And what a Thursday it was!
Personally, I thought it was the best Furlough yet!
Around 8am, I received a call from my boss letting me know that there was no power at the building, courtesy of some crazy person crashing into one of the utility boxes on the back corner of the property.
Right away he remembered that I wasn't coming in, so he said not to worry about it.
And I didn't :-)
To be honest, I went back to sleep for another couple of hours.
When I woke up around 10am, I brushed my teeth, went downstairs and started the grill.
We cooked some carne asada (or "skirt steak" for my lighter friends) and it was awesome!
Susie made some beans and rice, and the meal was on!
Why does food cooked at home taste so much better than anywhere else?
Anyways, while I was at home enjoying the best meal ever, my coworkers were busy trying to get a paper out.
Oh the joys of working. When you're not working. :-)
I may have to take more Thursdays off!
A friend at work need to swap days so she could do some wedding planning stuff, so I took Thursday off and went in on Friday.
And what a Thursday it was!
Personally, I thought it was the best Furlough yet!
Around 8am, I received a call from my boss letting me know that there was no power at the building, courtesy of some crazy person crashing into one of the utility boxes on the back corner of the property.
Right away he remembered that I wasn't coming in, so he said not to worry about it.
And I didn't :-)
To be honest, I went back to sleep for another couple of hours.
When I woke up around 10am, I brushed my teeth, went downstairs and started the grill.
We cooked some carne asada (or "skirt steak" for my lighter friends) and it was awesome!
Susie made some beans and rice, and the meal was on!
Why does food cooked at home taste so much better than anywhere else?
Anyways, while I was at home enjoying the best meal ever, my coworkers were busy trying to get a paper out.
Oh the joys of working. When you're not working. :-)
I may have to take more Thursdays off!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Furlough Friday No. 5
Another furlough has come and gone.
This last Friday, however, was the beginning of a super-long weekend, thanks to Labor Dabor.
And this Friday was pretty nice.
Susie and I did a little running around with the girls, and even had dinner again at B.J.s.
Overall, the long weekend was really nice.
Now I can look forward to a shortened work week.
Nothing to crazy to note for this one!
This last Friday, however, was the beginning of a super-long weekend, thanks to Labor Dabor.
And this Friday was pretty nice.
Susie and I did a little running around with the girls, and even had dinner again at B.J.s.
Overall, the long weekend was really nice.
Now I can look forward to a shortened work week.
Nothing to crazy to note for this one!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Furlough Friday No. 3 and No. 4
As I share this last entry with you, I want point out that the title is "Furlough Friday No. 3 and No. 4"
And the reason why the last two Furlough Friday blog entries are combined into this one is what I want to discuss.
Time.
I seem to be running out of time.
My work week is now four days long instead of five.
My weekend is now three days long instead of two.
And I'm running out of time.
My work weeks have been blazing by so fast, I can't remember what I'm doing sometimes.
And my weekends are going by so quickly that it feels like I'm not getting to do some of the things I told myself I wanted to do when the furloughs started.
To be honest, I can't even remember what those things were.
Let's get a quick recap of the last 4 furloughs (as best as I can remember as I type this).
Furlough 1 was the nicest. A nice morning, a gentle afternoon and dinner with my family.
Furlough 2 was pretty busy. That Friday, we drove into town and picked up Samarah's birth certificate.
No. 2 was also busy because a few of us from H2O were getting ready for a special service at our church that Sunday night.
That Sunday morning was pretty extraordinary in that I was asked to minister at New Destiny Church in Phoenix after their pastor got sick. Pretty last minute, but God is awesome and I was able to help out.
Furlough 3 may have been the most interesting because that Friday night, as Susie and I were eating dinner at BJ's restaurant, we saw Tara from the last season of The Biggest Loser. We said Hi real quick as we were leaving, told her we were rooting for her the whole time. She said thanks, she appreciates it, and that was that. Pretty cool for us, 'cause we liked that show, and Tara was a fun contestant to cheer on. Tara didn't win. Oh well.
Furlough 4 was busy again because we were going to a concert in Phx. with H2O. Downcast Fable, Uprise, and I am Empire all performed in a crowded church. We had a blast.
And so now, as I type this, it is technically Monday morning.
My last load of laundry is in the dryer, but I'm not waiting for it.
No, I need to go to sleep so I can hopefully (but doubtfully) go to work a little early.
I have so much to do and so little time to do it in.
Time.
It's what I should have more of, thanks to the furloughs.
But it's also what I seem to be running out of.
So if I seem rushed this week, please be patient with me.
I'm just trying to catch up.
And the reason why the last two Furlough Friday blog entries are combined into this one is what I want to discuss.
Time.
I seem to be running out of time.
My work week is now four days long instead of five.
My weekend is now three days long instead of two.
And I'm running out of time.
My work weeks have been blazing by so fast, I can't remember what I'm doing sometimes.
And my weekends are going by so quickly that it feels like I'm not getting to do some of the things I told myself I wanted to do when the furloughs started.
To be honest, I can't even remember what those things were.
Let's get a quick recap of the last 4 furloughs (as best as I can remember as I type this).
Furlough 1 was the nicest. A nice morning, a gentle afternoon and dinner with my family.
Furlough 2 was pretty busy. That Friday, we drove into town and picked up Samarah's birth certificate.
No. 2 was also busy because a few of us from H2O were getting ready for a special service at our church that Sunday night.
That Sunday morning was pretty extraordinary in that I was asked to minister at New Destiny Church in Phoenix after their pastor got sick. Pretty last minute, but God is awesome and I was able to help out.
Furlough 3 may have been the most interesting because that Friday night, as Susie and I were eating dinner at BJ's restaurant, we saw Tara from the last season of The Biggest Loser. We said Hi real quick as we were leaving, told her we were rooting for her the whole time. She said thanks, she appreciates it, and that was that. Pretty cool for us, 'cause we liked that show, and Tara was a fun contestant to cheer on. Tara didn't win. Oh well.
Furlough 4 was busy again because we were going to a concert in Phx. with H2O. Downcast Fable, Uprise, and I am Empire all performed in a crowded church. We had a blast.
And so now, as I type this, it is technically Monday morning.
My last load of laundry is in the dryer, but I'm not waiting for it.
No, I need to go to sleep so I can hopefully (but doubtfully) go to work a little early.
I have so much to do and so little time to do it in.
Time.
It's what I should have more of, thanks to the furloughs.
But it's also what I seem to be running out of.
So if I seem rushed this week, please be patient with me.
I'm just trying to catch up.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Furlough Friday No. 2
So this last Friday was Furlough Friday no. 2.
Let me try to remember for a second what I did that Friday ...
Okay, I remember:
This whole weekend we were getting ready for a worship service on Sunday night at our church.
Our youth group, H2O (here), had been practicing all week and we had just a few more days before Sunday to make sure our songs, three of them, sounded as good as they could.
So Friday morning, I had the afternoon already planned out.
But the morning wasn't over yet, so we had some morning things to get out of the way.
Susie and I hadn't picked up Samarah's birth certificate yet, so that was something we wanted to do.
We drove into town and visited the Office of Vital Records.
What a name, right?
The name itself reminds me of an episode of the X-Files when Scully and Mulder break into this building out in the middle of nowhere and inside are a bunch of file cabinets with names of people who have been experimented on in one way or the other.
Scully's name is on one of the folders and it turns out she's been worked on. Doh!
Anyways, we walk into this building and ... it's like the DMV in there! There are a ton of people waiting in line and in chairs with numbers waiting to be called.
My first reaction was, "Boy, am I glad I brought this book."
(Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis)
But actually, it didn't take that long for them to call our number (492) and give us Samarah's birth certificate. We were out of there in less than half an hour or so!
That afternoon, before our last full practice with the band, we took everyone out to P.F. Chang's for dinner.
That was pretty nice, we all had a good time.
Practice went well, we were done by 8:30.
And that was pretty much my second Furlough Friday.
In case you're wondering, Sunday night went well.
I'll try and post some pics on Facebook.
I hope your weekend was as well as mine!
Let me try to remember for a second what I did that Friday ...
Okay, I remember:
This whole weekend we were getting ready for a worship service on Sunday night at our church.
Our youth group, H2O (here), had been practicing all week and we had just a few more days before Sunday to make sure our songs, three of them, sounded as good as they could.
So Friday morning, I had the afternoon already planned out.
But the morning wasn't over yet, so we had some morning things to get out of the way.
Susie and I hadn't picked up Samarah's birth certificate yet, so that was something we wanted to do.
We drove into town and visited the Office of Vital Records.
What a name, right?
The name itself reminds me of an episode of the X-Files when Scully and Mulder break into this building out in the middle of nowhere and inside are a bunch of file cabinets with names of people who have been experimented on in one way or the other.
Scully's name is on one of the folders and it turns out she's been worked on. Doh!
Anyways, we walk into this building and ... it's like the DMV in there! There are a ton of people waiting in line and in chairs with numbers waiting to be called.
My first reaction was, "Boy, am I glad I brought this book."
(Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis)
But actually, it didn't take that long for them to call our number (492) and give us Samarah's birth certificate. We were out of there in less than half an hour or so!
That afternoon, before our last full practice with the band, we took everyone out to P.F. Chang's for dinner.
That was pretty nice, we all had a good time.
Practice went well, we were done by 8:30.
And that was pretty much my second Furlough Friday.
In case you're wondering, Sunday night went well.
I'll try and post some pics on Facebook.
I hope your weekend was as well as mine!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Furlough Friday ::: Day One
It's interesting, to say the least, that on my first furlough day, the jobless rate went from 9.5% to 9.4%, the first decrease in unemployment in 15 months.
It should be noted, however, that unemployment numbers don't include people who are unemployed but not looking for work.
People lose their jobs, start seeking new jobs, and are counted as unemployed.
After a bit of searching, and heartbreak, no doubt, they're unable to find jobs and decide to stop looking. They'll look some more once the economy gets better.
But once they stop looking, they're not counted as unemployed. And the number of individuals who are "unemployed" drops.
Please note that this is not the only reason the unemployment numbers "improved" they way they did, but it probably played a significant role.
So what does this mean for me?
Will I stay on furlough for long? I hope not.
Today, however, was my first day of furlough.
And when I first heard we were going to be having furloughs, I told myself I'd stay as positive about the whole situation as I could.
He is my provider, so I'm not to worried about the whole thing.
He is good to me.
He is good.
He Is.
And that's enough for me, although I could get a little carried away with the fact that He Is and what that means to me ... but I digress.
My first day of furlough was pretty good.
We all slept in today, got up nice and rested, and started our morning routines.
Averie had some school work to finish up and I started to clean up the garage and pull some weeds from the front yard.
Susie did some running around, and when she came back, we went shopping.
Averie got some new shoes and some new clothes.
"Lucky!"
Taco Bell provided the quick lunch we needed and after a truly wondrous nap, we had some really good dinner at Memphis' Best BBQ in Buckeye with my folks.
Afterwards my mom and dad came over for desert.
Averie and I played a game of Uno (I won, a rare event) and then we just hung out and visited.
Now, as I type this, Samarah is down for the night and my two ladies are playing make-up.
I love living in a house full of girls :-/
So Furlough Friday No. 1 was a success.
Now I can enjoy my weekend.
I love Saturdays because we sleep in, wake-up late, leave the house for lunch and some running around, and then enjoy the best summer Saturday evenings ever.
Sundays are the best because it's a day dedicated to Him.
Sunday morning worship is a time of family. Me and my brothers and sisters gather together to praise Him and enjoy each others' fellowship.
It's amazing.
- Fin
It should be noted, however, that unemployment numbers don't include people who are unemployed but not looking for work.
People lose their jobs, start seeking new jobs, and are counted as unemployed.
After a bit of searching, and heartbreak, no doubt, they're unable to find jobs and decide to stop looking. They'll look some more once the economy gets better.
But once they stop looking, they're not counted as unemployed. And the number of individuals who are "unemployed" drops.
Please note that this is not the only reason the unemployment numbers "improved" they way they did, but it probably played a significant role.
So what does this mean for me?
Will I stay on furlough for long? I hope not.
Today, however, was my first day of furlough.
And when I first heard we were going to be having furloughs, I told myself I'd stay as positive about the whole situation as I could.
He is my provider, so I'm not to worried about the whole thing.
He is good to me.
He is good.
He Is.
And that's enough for me, although I could get a little carried away with the fact that He Is and what that means to me ... but I digress.
My first day of furlough was pretty good.
We all slept in today, got up nice and rested, and started our morning routines.
Averie had some school work to finish up and I started to clean up the garage and pull some weeds from the front yard.
Susie did some running around, and when she came back, we went shopping.
Averie got some new shoes and some new clothes.
"Lucky!"
Taco Bell provided the quick lunch we needed and after a truly wondrous nap, we had some really good dinner at Memphis' Best BBQ in Buckeye with my folks.
Afterwards my mom and dad came over for desert.
Averie and I played a game of Uno (I won, a rare event) and then we just hung out and visited.
Now, as I type this, Samarah is down for the night and my two ladies are playing make-up.
I love living in a house full of girls :-/
So Furlough Friday No. 1 was a success.
Now I can enjoy my weekend.
I love Saturdays because we sleep in, wake-up late, leave the house for lunch and some running around, and then enjoy the best summer Saturday evenings ever.
Sundays are the best because it's a day dedicated to Him.
Sunday morning worship is a time of family. Me and my brothers and sisters gather together to praise Him and enjoy each others' fellowship.
It's amazing.
- Fin
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Furloughs start tomorrow ...
Tomorrow is furlough day no. 1.
I can't honestly say that I'm super-stoked about taking an unpaid day off from work, but it is what it is, so ...
So I decided to keep a diary of sorts for my furloughs, so that when it's all over I can look back and say to myself, "Dang, that sucked."
Or not.
Either way, you're invited to follow along and see how fun furloughs can really be.
I can't honestly say that I'm super-stoked about taking an unpaid day off from work, but it is what it is, so ...
So I decided to keep a diary of sorts for my furloughs, so that when it's all over I can look back and say to myself, "Dang, that sucked."
Or not.
Either way, you're invited to follow along and see how fun furloughs can really be.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Day 7: Monday, the last day
Ok everyone, I've done it.I've been wearing the same clothes to work for the last 7 days (including today).
Only one person had the nerve to say something, anything.
So now I'm on the verge of telling a few people here at work about this little stunt.
I'm sure after one or two know, word will travel fast.
People will ask why Sara and I did what we did and what we accomplished.
I don't think we accomplished much at all. It's been interesting to say the least, but I doubt there will be any long term repercussions in the office.
Personally, I will probably be a little more attentive to what my co-workers are wearing.
But in all honesty, I doubt it.
— Art
Friday, April 4, 2008
SOMEONE NOTICED!!!
I just had a co-worker ask if I'd been wearing the same shirt for the last couple of days! I can't believe someone finally noticed!
Below is the conversation (best I can remember):
Co-worker #1: How many days have you been wearing that shirt?
Art (feigning surprise): (Gasp!) Excuse me?
Co-worker #1: That shirt; you wore it yesterday ...
Art: (Surprised) What are you talking about?
Co-worker #1: Haven't you been wearing that shirt for a couple of days now?
Co-worker #2: No, yesterday he had a light shirt on!
Co-worker #1: I could've swore you wore that shirt yesterday ..
Art: What are you on?
Co-worker #1: ... yeah, a blue shirt ...
Art: My eyes are blue ... so ....
Co-worker #1 (walking away): ... weird ....
SUCCESS!!!! Now all I have to do is wear this thing for two more days ... If I need to, I'll let Co-worker in on the secret, but only if she swears not to tell anyone. I think I can trust her.
Below is the conversation (best I can remember):
Co-worker #1: How many days have you been wearing that shirt?
Art (feigning surprise): (Gasp!) Excuse me?
Co-worker #1: That shirt; you wore it yesterday ...
Art: (Surprised) What are you talking about?
Co-worker #1: Haven't you been wearing that shirt for a couple of days now?
Co-worker #2: No, yesterday he had a light shirt on!
Co-worker #1: I could've swore you wore that shirt yesterday ..
Art: What are you on?
Co-worker #1: ... yeah, a blue shirt ...
Art: My eyes are blue ... so ....
Co-worker #1 (walking away): ... weird ....
SUCCESS!!!! Now all I have to do is wear this thing for two more days ... If I need to, I'll let Co-worker in on the secret, but only if she swears not to tell anyone. I think I can trust her.
Day No. 4: Goin' Solo
Ms. Bisker is in Colorado today with her fiancé, Dave (a great guy), so I'll be doin' this same-clothes-for-a-week thing solo.
I gave a co-worker of mine a ride this morning, and she didn't notice anything, as far as I know.
That's cool, I guess, but I'm still waiting for someone to say something.
I think I got a double-take from one of the office guys yesterday, but that may be wishful thinking.
So as you may have read in yesterday's post, I have decided to keep wearing the same clothes until someone says something.
It may take more than one week, but if it does, I'll be mighty surprised.
I work on Sunday, and Sara and I thought it'd be keeping with the idea to wear these clothes on that day as well.
If people don't notice after that, then I'll keep doing this for as long as it takes.
I'm getting a little discouraged here, folks. I'm getting tired of wearing these clothes.
I'll be posting some more news later today along with some pics.
Until then ...
UPDATE (12:35pm):
So here I am ...
Will anyone ever notice that I've been wearing the same clothes all week?
I gave a co-worker of mine a ride this morning, and she didn't notice anything, as far as I know.
That's cool, I guess, but I'm still waiting for someone to say something.
I think I got a double-take from one of the office guys yesterday, but that may be wishful thinking.
So as you may have read in yesterday's post, I have decided to keep wearing the same clothes until someone says something.
It may take more than one week, but if it does, I'll be mighty surprised.
I work on Sunday, and Sara and I thought it'd be keeping with the idea to wear these clothes on that day as well.
If people don't notice after that, then I'll keep doing this for as long as it takes.
I'm getting a little discouraged here, folks. I'm getting tired of wearing these clothes.
I'll be posting some more news later today along with some pics.
Until then ...
UPDATE (12:35pm):
So here I am ...
Will anyone ever notice that I've been wearing the same clothes all week?
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Day No. 3: Thanks, I like this shirt too ...
Honestly, people, I don't think anyone notices.
It's been two straight days with Sara and I wearing the same clothes and I don't think anyone besides us, our significant others, and you know about it.
But it is early in the morning, around 9am.
I'll update this post a few times today.
QUICK UPDATE (9:07am): I think I'm going to wear the same clothes until someone, anyone, says something, anything.
UPDATE (9:38am): The following thoughts are from Sara Bisker
Wearing the same outfit for an entire week hasn’t been as fun as I thought it would be. Its day three and no one has commented. Granted, I’m not wearing anything crazy or memorable, just brown pants and a black T-shirt but shouldn’t SOMEONE notice by now? Is society so self-focused that we don’t even notice colors, styles, clothing?
If this prank was reversed, and someone else was wearing the same outfit for a week, I am confident that I would notice. I’m a reporter. It’s my job to be observant. Got your hair cut? New shoes? Different perfume? I keep it all in check. So why doesn’t anyone else?
I would hate to believe this prank was in vain. That I could have stretched my creativeness to come up with a new outfit every morning to put on (though I will admit it was very easy on the morning routine to know what I was wearing every single day). Somehow, we need to help people notice. We need to find a way to get them talking about us … so we can deny it. Some way, some how, this prank will work.
Any suggestions?
UPDATE (1:40pm): I've committed myself to wear the same clothes until someone notices. Of course I'll wash as often as necessary, but until some comes up to me and asks, I'm wearing the blue shirt and khakis. So there.
Here are some pics from today. Sara at her desk and myself speaking with Julie. Notice the gentleman's shirt in the background of Sara's picture. He's wearing a bright yellow shirt today. Yesterday it was a different color (see yesterday's post). We're serious, here, people.
It's been two straight days with Sara and I wearing the same clothes and I don't think anyone besides us, our significant others, and you know about it.
But it is early in the morning, around 9am.
I'll update this post a few times today.
QUICK UPDATE (9:07am): I think I'm going to wear the same clothes until someone, anyone, says something, anything.
UPDATE (9:38am): The following thoughts are from Sara Bisker
Wearing the same outfit for an entire week hasn’t been as fun as I thought it would be. Its day three and no one has commented. Granted, I’m not wearing anything crazy or memorable, just brown pants and a black T-shirt but shouldn’t SOMEONE notice by now? Is society so self-focused that we don’t even notice colors, styles, clothing?
If this prank was reversed, and someone else was wearing the same outfit for a week, I am confident that I would notice. I’m a reporter. It’s my job to be observant. Got your hair cut? New shoes? Different perfume? I keep it all in check. So why doesn’t anyone else?
I would hate to believe this prank was in vain. That I could have stretched my creativeness to come up with a new outfit every morning to put on (though I will admit it was very easy on the morning routine to know what I was wearing every single day). Somehow, we need to help people notice. We need to find a way to get them talking about us … so we can deny it. Some way, some how, this prank will work.
Any suggestions?
UPDATE (1:40pm): I've committed myself to wear the same clothes until someone notices. Of course I'll wash as often as necessary, but until some comes up to me and asks, I'm wearing the blue shirt and khakis. So there.
Here are some pics from today. Sara at her desk and myself speaking with Julie. Notice the gentleman's shirt in the background of Sara's picture. He's wearing a bright yellow shirt today. Yesterday it was a different color (see yesterday's post). We're serious, here, people.
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