The thing about precious stones and metals is that they are buried deep within rocky places. Miles beneath the dirt, where most people go about their days, lay treasures untold. The same is true of eternal treasures. Sometimes you need to look beneath the surface of things to search out the treasure underneath.
There is a verse in the gospel of Matthew that has always been difficult for me to figure out. "Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you." At surface value, it makes sense in that if you argue with a fool, you are wasting your time. The fool will not listen and you will only get frustrated and look stupid doing it. I agree with this and it makes both good theological sense as well as logical sense. The setting for this verse, however, makes no sense at all.
Jesus has been riffing on selflessness. Telling his followers to no longer worry about their earthly life. Not to hold onto their rights (legal, social, emotional) instead to sacrifice self in showing love to others. Even to individuals that would steal our last piece of clothing, and insult us to our very core. To those individuals we should not hold back from. If there is anyone who deserves to be labeled a pig or a dog, it is certainly someone who has such malicious intent.
Jesus doesn't even allow us the self-righteous pleasure of judging that person for the evil they perpetrated on us. "Judge not, lest you be judged." We are not allowed to withhold grace and mercy from the nefarious characters described above. It is immediately following this instruction that Jesus warns us against giving what is holy to dogs, or throwing away our pearls to pigs. This would seem to be a caution flag saying "hey, be nice to people and I do mean every body. unless they're jerks." what exactly do you do with that?
Because my selfish heart, quickly runs and seeks out every opportunity to escape from having to be truly selfless. If this is what this verse means "Don't waste your time on people that aren't going to appreciate what you do for them." then, I've seen my share of pigs and dogs and the number of people I need to be nice to, just shrunk incredibly. like, exponentially
What I am wrestling with is maybe this verse is not a modifier or an exception to the previous verses but instead an explanation for why you should not pick up the weapons of hatred and judgement. In judging others, we step away from the new covenant of grace and ask for the law to reign in this world. We desire not for God's mercy to be shown in someone's life, but want them to suffer God's wrath. Not to bring about their repentance, but for retribution or punishment and maybe just to make ourselves feel better.
In doing this, are we not "scooping hot coals into our laps" that will have little effect on the object of our hatred but proceed to burn ourselves? I believe when we judge others, we are throwing aside the beautiful treasure we have of God's grace and mercy and we do this for the sake of people we consider pigs and dogs. As C.S. Lewis said "we drink poison hoping that another person will fall ill."
In the previous chapter, Jesus taught us to pray "forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us". How can we enjoy the forgiveness of our sins and hope for others to suffer judgement instead? You cannot serve two masters, you will hate one and love the other.
Those people that you hate, the people that have wronged you, are they worth throwing away your holiness and your treasure? Is your right to vengeance or moral superiority more important than living in the freedom and forgiveness of Jesus?
Jesus continues to put convention on it's ear and tells us that if you are afraid of the evil people out there stealing everything from you, then you should love them. Afford them the same grace and mercy you have received. In doing so, you will ensure that you will not cast off our righteousness, instead, you will uncover an even greater treasure stored for you where thieves cannot break in and steal and moth and rust cannot destroy.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Monday, November 23, 2009
always check your blind spot
* the situations and characters in the below scenario are purely fictional and in no way represent me... errr.. i mean actual persons
A certain person sits alone at a table in the church commons, working on his laptop. Everyone has cleared out and left him alone with his work. Suddenly, the Mexican food from lunch creates an intense pressure. a pressure that CANNOT be ignored. He does a mental review of everyone who has come in and out of the building and the man is pretty sure he's all alone. A quick glance around just to make sure...
AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! Relief! The earth shakes and a tremble reverberates through his chair, down the chair legs and melts into the carpet. The plants along the far wall gasp for air. A follow up glance around the large open room just to be sure. Safe and clear.
The man grins with guilty pleasure and goes back to work.
Beep, Bing, Beep. Beep, Bing, Beep. "Is that an alarm going off?" the man thinks to himself. Beep, Bing, Beep. Beep, Bing, Beep. "Someone must have left their cell phone." He mutters, still convinced of his isolation.
Beep, Bing, Beep, "Hello, this is Linda." The man freezes in time. Where was that woman hiding? How did he not see her? Knowing in the core of who he is, that the thunderous expulsion moments before was undoubtedly heard by this "Linda" sitting quietly in the corner, reading her Bible, preparing for the Women's Bible study.
I'm hoping she was reading Isaiah.
A certain person sits alone at a table in the church commons, working on his laptop. Everyone has cleared out and left him alone with his work. Suddenly, the Mexican food from lunch creates an intense pressure. a pressure that CANNOT be ignored. He does a mental review of everyone who has come in and out of the building and the man is pretty sure he's all alone. A quick glance around just to make sure...
AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! Relief! The earth shakes and a tremble reverberates through his chair, down the chair legs and melts into the carpet. The plants along the far wall gasp for air. A follow up glance around the large open room just to be sure. Safe and clear.
The man grins with guilty pleasure and goes back to work.
Beep, Bing, Beep. Beep, Bing, Beep. "Is that an alarm going off?" the man thinks to himself. Beep, Bing, Beep. Beep, Bing, Beep. "Someone must have left their cell phone." He mutters, still convinced of his isolation.
Beep, Bing, Beep, "Hello, this is Linda." The man freezes in time. Where was that woman hiding? How did he not see her? Knowing in the core of who he is, that the thunderous expulsion moments before was undoubtedly heard by this "Linda" sitting quietly in the corner, reading her Bible, preparing for the Women's Bible study.
I'm hoping she was reading Isaiah.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
our fishbowl
Palin is 2 years old. pretty impressive for a beta. Technically, she belongs to the girls but if ownership implies feeding and cleaning, I guess she belongs to me. I've heard from people who keep fish that betas are especially picky (read die easily) but Palin is anything but. We can't seem to kill this fish. And if you asked her, she would tell you that we try on a pretty regular basis.
Feedings take place on an ad hoc basis (read whenever I remember to). Bowl cleanings occur whenever 3/4 of the water has evaporated and the poor fish has been swimming in her own filth for a LONG TIME. gross? I know. cruel? I know. uncaring? probably. But maybe her greatest feats are that of fasting through our vacations. We meant to give the neighbors our house key on the week long trip to San Antonio. And that trip to Puerto Rico? we TOTALLY meant to drop her off at the Goetzman's. Weeks at a time with no food and somehow through all of that abuse and neglect, She just keeps swimming. (Insert Ellen Degenerese voice: Just keep swimming, Just keep swimming) Even Ghandi would eat one grain of rice. There have been times when we pull into the driveway, and somewhere in my selfish, cruel heart I'm thinking "I hope this is the day I clean the fishbowl for the last time". (Go ahead call the HSPCA on me for neglect. no really, call them and have them come take the fish)
Perhaps the saddest thing is that no one truly cares whether this fish lives or dies, swims in clean water or filth, has food or starves...except... except the fish. Palin is determined to live. I'm sure of it. I wonder if she knew about her owners' indifference... would that change? Granted, we care in a mild, it's our responsibility, we're stuck with this fish and the kids would cry if it died, kinda way. But really, truly cared about it? yeah right.
A poet friend of mine once wrote about a poor fish stuck isolated in his bowl. Uncared for, unloved. Fed only when remembered. Had barely enough to survive and no knowledge of what the next day will bring. I think many people can relate. Of course, our bowl is much bigger and like the fish we can choose to recognize whether there is something beyond the fishbowl or pretend that reality stops at the boundaries of our glass bowl. Either way, there are times when our bowl feels very much like Palin's and we question if there is a god, why doesn't he care about what happens to me.
We can even accept and know that we live in a fallen world where sin reigns and that we face both the consequences of sin in the world (disease, death, human cruelty) and our own sin (punishment, broken relationships, guilt). We can believe that Jesus died for our sins and we have new life in him, but still wonder if maybe all of those actions are just out of compulsion. "Well, I created this world so now I better take care of it, you better go down there Jesus. It's the right thing to do." Because as we know ourselves, how can God feel otherwise. Looking down on us, swimming in our own filth, how can He not just be tired of it. tired of us.
Simple, His perspective. He doesn't look down on the fishbowl, he became a poor fish and climbed inside our nasty bowl so that we could know him and he could know us. From inside the bowl, Jesus pleads our case, understands our plight, forgives our sins. Dealing with the loss of a loved one, so has Jesus. Facing a prognosis of certain death, so has Jesus. Friends and family turn their back on you, so has Jesus. Felt the crushing weight of sin and guilt, so has Jesus. on the cross, taking our sin, our failure and shame and separating it from us forever. Jesus is our hope here in the fishbowl, that God will not and cannot forget us, cares for us regardless of what the circumstances would argue. Christ's death on the cross, his selfless and perfect sacrifice, cannot ever be ignored or marginalized, therefore God does not, cannot look at us as an impassionate observer, but as a Father. We are not a forgotten child's pet, but the pearl of great price that God risked everything to secure for eternity.
Feedings take place on an ad hoc basis (read whenever I remember to). Bowl cleanings occur whenever 3/4 of the water has evaporated and the poor fish has been swimming in her own filth for a LONG TIME. gross? I know. cruel? I know. uncaring? probably. But maybe her greatest feats are that of fasting through our vacations. We meant to give the neighbors our house key on the week long trip to San Antonio. And that trip to Puerto Rico? we TOTALLY meant to drop her off at the Goetzman's. Weeks at a time with no food and somehow through all of that abuse and neglect, She just keeps swimming. (Insert Ellen Degenerese voice: Just keep swimming, Just keep swimming) Even Ghandi would eat one grain of rice. There have been times when we pull into the driveway, and somewhere in my selfish, cruel heart I'm thinking "I hope this is the day I clean the fishbowl for the last time". (Go ahead call the HSPCA on me for neglect. no really, call them and have them come take the fish)
Perhaps the saddest thing is that no one truly cares whether this fish lives or dies, swims in clean water or filth, has food or starves...except... except the fish. Palin is determined to live. I'm sure of it. I wonder if she knew about her owners' indifference... would that change? Granted, we care in a mild, it's our responsibility, we're stuck with this fish and the kids would cry if it died, kinda way. But really, truly cared about it? yeah right.
A poet friend of mine once wrote about a poor fish stuck isolated in his bowl. Uncared for, unloved. Fed only when remembered. Had barely enough to survive and no knowledge of what the next day will bring. I think many people can relate. Of course, our bowl is much bigger and like the fish we can choose to recognize whether there is something beyond the fishbowl or pretend that reality stops at the boundaries of our glass bowl. Either way, there are times when our bowl feels very much like Palin's and we question if there is a god, why doesn't he care about what happens to me.
We can even accept and know that we live in a fallen world where sin reigns and that we face both the consequences of sin in the world (disease, death, human cruelty) and our own sin (punishment, broken relationships, guilt). We can believe that Jesus died for our sins and we have new life in him, but still wonder if maybe all of those actions are just out of compulsion. "Well, I created this world so now I better take care of it, you better go down there Jesus. It's the right thing to do." Because as we know ourselves, how can God feel otherwise. Looking down on us, swimming in our own filth, how can He not just be tired of it. tired of us.
Simple, His perspective. He doesn't look down on the fishbowl, he became a poor fish and climbed inside our nasty bowl so that we could know him and he could know us. From inside the bowl, Jesus pleads our case, understands our plight, forgives our sins. Dealing with the loss of a loved one, so has Jesus. Facing a prognosis of certain death, so has Jesus. Friends and family turn their back on you, so has Jesus. Felt the crushing weight of sin and guilt, so has Jesus. on the cross, taking our sin, our failure and shame and separating it from us forever. Jesus is our hope here in the fishbowl, that God will not and cannot forget us, cares for us regardless of what the circumstances would argue. Christ's death on the cross, his selfless and perfect sacrifice, cannot ever be ignored or marginalized, therefore God does not, cannot look at us as an impassionate observer, but as a Father. We are not a forgotten child's pet, but the pearl of great price that God risked everything to secure for eternity.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Angry God destroys all of humanity... just your average kid's story
Going to preach for the first time in big church. To adults and everything. I've been told not to say any fart jokes or say "crap" while praying. I say to leave room for the Holy Spirit's prompting. What am I talking about? The time God said "to hell with it!" and flushed humanity down the drain. Nice. Amazing how pastor Dan managed to be conveniently out of town for this one. Just a coincidence I'm sure...
As I read more and more of it, I am struck with how it is such a modern day story, a story for our time. A world that saw God as the source of their torment. People who indulged in every desire of their heart. A society that recognized no higher authority than themselves. We read that God sees what His creation has become and His heart breaks. His desire in the garden to have a perfect relationship with mankind, a relationship where God can pour out His love and man can respond freely in love; that desire is destroyed once again. We read the all too human words, that God's heart is pained.
As mankind hurtles itself towards destruction, through rebellion and selfishness; God watches as a husband would an unfaithful wife. But unlike the sagas that play out on the 24 hour news, God does not commit a crime of passion. He does not snuff out mankind in a fit of rage, in the blink of an eye. He starts with grace. "But Noah found favor in the eyes of God." Noah was a sinner like the rest, but grace enters into the picture and God chooses Noah to warn and to rescue.
For 120 years Noah preaches righteousness, through his words and through his life. He shows obedience to God and warns of the coming flood. Because of his faith in a merciful God, he obeys. he obeys unflinchingly, without question, without arguing. Because of his faith, his family is saved along with him. As Dad goes, so goes the family.
So many times when we are confronted with the flood, we run away. We see a blood thirsty God, who delights in punishment and will throw aside all of humanity just because He's having a bad day. What we don't see is the warning. Throughout the Bible, God is giving warnings and it points to His mercy. Jonah understood this all too well. He refused to tell Nineveh that God would destroy it because he knew that God desired not their destruction, but their repentance. When Clara, my two year-old redhead disobeys, she gets a warning. "stop or you will go to time-out. I'm counting to 3." If I wanted to punish her, I would go straight to it. Why wait?
God gives the people in Noah's time countless warnings for 120 years and then as the animals line up in the week leading up, they still have time. but no. Only 8 people on board a ship that could hold 52 locomotive cars. It makes you wonder, if Noah could do it over, would he try harder to reach the people around him. As they sat on the ark and listened to the destruction around them, the cries, the pleas, what regrets did Noah and his family have?
When God tells Noah to come out of the ark, he makes a promise. A promise to bring redemption instead of destruction. To rescue man from his sin instead of destroying him. A promise that we live under, that we cling to knowing that these words apply to us "every inclination from childhood on is towards sin". But we have the confidence of knowing how God's promise was fulfilled. We live in a world that has seen the how God took man's failure and took it upon himself in the person of Jesus and paid our penalty, breaking the curse of sin and defeating death in his resurrection.
Like Noah, we live with the same knowledge of both God's love and his holiness. That sin carries with it a penalty but that God desires all mankind to be saved from that penalty. And exactly like Noah, we are faced with a truth that God chooses to carry this message through us. That we are called to be "preachers of righteousness" through both our words and our actions.
So how's your ark coming along?
As I read more and more of it, I am struck with how it is such a modern day story, a story for our time. A world that saw God as the source of their torment. People who indulged in every desire of their heart. A society that recognized no higher authority than themselves. We read that God sees what His creation has become and His heart breaks. His desire in the garden to have a perfect relationship with mankind, a relationship where God can pour out His love and man can respond freely in love; that desire is destroyed once again. We read the all too human words, that God's heart is pained.
As mankind hurtles itself towards destruction, through rebellion and selfishness; God watches as a husband would an unfaithful wife. But unlike the sagas that play out on the 24 hour news, God does not commit a crime of passion. He does not snuff out mankind in a fit of rage, in the blink of an eye. He starts with grace. "But Noah found favor in the eyes of God." Noah was a sinner like the rest, but grace enters into the picture and God chooses Noah to warn and to rescue.
For 120 years Noah preaches righteousness, through his words and through his life. He shows obedience to God and warns of the coming flood. Because of his faith in a merciful God, he obeys. he obeys unflinchingly, without question, without arguing. Because of his faith, his family is saved along with him. As Dad goes, so goes the family.
So many times when we are confronted with the flood, we run away. We see a blood thirsty God, who delights in punishment and will throw aside all of humanity just because He's having a bad day. What we don't see is the warning. Throughout the Bible, God is giving warnings and it points to His mercy. Jonah understood this all too well. He refused to tell Nineveh that God would destroy it because he knew that God desired not their destruction, but their repentance. When Clara, my two year-old redhead disobeys, she gets a warning. "stop or you will go to time-out. I'm counting to 3." If I wanted to punish her, I would go straight to it. Why wait?
God gives the people in Noah's time countless warnings for 120 years and then as the animals line up in the week leading up, they still have time. but no. Only 8 people on board a ship that could hold 52 locomotive cars. It makes you wonder, if Noah could do it over, would he try harder to reach the people around him. As they sat on the ark and listened to the destruction around them, the cries, the pleas, what regrets did Noah and his family have?
When God tells Noah to come out of the ark, he makes a promise. A promise to bring redemption instead of destruction. To rescue man from his sin instead of destroying him. A promise that we live under, that we cling to knowing that these words apply to us "every inclination from childhood on is towards sin". But we have the confidence of knowing how God's promise was fulfilled. We live in a world that has seen the how God took man's failure and took it upon himself in the person of Jesus and paid our penalty, breaking the curse of sin and defeating death in his resurrection.
Like Noah, we live with the same knowledge of both God's love and his holiness. That sin carries with it a penalty but that God desires all mankind to be saved from that penalty. And exactly like Noah, we are faced with a truth that God chooses to carry this message through us. That we are called to be "preachers of righteousness" through both our words and our actions.
So how's your ark coming along?
Monday, December 05, 2005
I don't care who ya are...
driving home from church yesterday
4 boys, about 11-12 years old
pull out in front of me on their skateboards.
These guys are looking pretty cool
The one in back goes over a pothole
skate board flies up in one direction
boy flies up in the other.
He lands squaw on his back
rolls around a bit
and starts to cry.
I don't care who ya are - that's funny
4 boys, about 11-12 years old
pull out in front of me on their skateboards.
These guys are looking pretty cool
The one in back goes over a pothole
skate board flies up in one direction
boy flies up in the other.
He lands squaw on his back
rolls around a bit
and starts to cry.
I don't care who ya are - that's funny
Sunday, November 13, 2005
a commentary on church
(lyrics to She's So Blue by Frank Hart who among many other things leads worship at my church.
It’s a stained glass world
And it doesn’t come cheap
But it didn’t cost her a nickel
She walked in right out off of the street
And she sat down
And she looked around
Some words are truth
Some words are lies
She thinks knows the difference
But look her right into the eyes of her façade
You just can't win an argument with God
She tries so hard
But you just can't win an argument with God
When she finds that it's hard to believe
In everything she knows is true
Lead her back to The Way
She can believe in everything that leads to You
She's so blue
Well it all sounds right
But it all goes wrong
Standing on the science
With her faith under a microscope too long
And that’s not where it belongs
It can’t be true
She knows better than that
There’s no way she can believe it
It would be completely wrong and pretty odd
To think she has a bigger heart than God
She tries so hard
But you just can't win an argument with God
It’s a tear-stained world
And it doesn’t come cheap
But it doesn’t cost a nickel
If she has faith and can believe when it is hard, find a way to know it in your heart
She tries so hard
But you’ll never win an argument with God.
She tries too hard
She's so blue
It’s a stained glass world
And it doesn’t come cheap
But it didn’t cost her a nickel
She walked in right out off of the street
And she sat down
And she looked around
Some words are truth
Some words are lies
She thinks knows the difference
But look her right into the eyes of her façade
You just can't win an argument with God
She tries so hard
But you just can't win an argument with God
When she finds that it's hard to believe
In everything she knows is true
Lead her back to The Way
She can believe in everything that leads to You
She's so blue
Well it all sounds right
But it all goes wrong
Standing on the science
With her faith under a microscope too long
And that’s not where it belongs
It can’t be true
She knows better than that
There’s no way she can believe it
It would be completely wrong and pretty odd
To think she has a bigger heart than God
She tries so hard
But you just can't win an argument with God
It’s a tear-stained world
And it doesn’t come cheap
But it doesn’t cost a nickel
If she has faith and can believe when it is hard, find a way to know it in your heart
She tries so hard
But you’ll never win an argument with God.
She tries too hard
She's so blue
Friday, November 04, 2005
life
I love my life. It's not perfect and it seems to be mostly an uphill battle. just when you think you have reached a summit, you see a bigger, scarier part of the mountain waiting for you.
still and yet, I love my life.
Some of the most wonderful, genuine and witty people surround me and I can call them friends. Not only that I can call on them for anything and they will be there. My beautiful wife and most precious daughter are absolutely the apple of my eye. I could not have dreamed for a more perfect family.
I live in a place that is the closest thing to heaven on earth. home of armadillos, shiner beer and willie nelson.
Most importantly I have a Creator, Sustainer and Savior that loves me and guides me and doesn't give up on me.
Even when a HUGE case blows up BIG!!! and threatens to ruin Christmas and Thanksgiving and once and for all put us in the poor house... I can still say that I LOVE MY LIFE!
still and yet, I love my life.
Some of the most wonderful, genuine and witty people surround me and I can call them friends. Not only that I can call on them for anything and they will be there. My beautiful wife and most precious daughter are absolutely the apple of my eye. I could not have dreamed for a more perfect family.
I live in a place that is the closest thing to heaven on earth. home of armadillos, shiner beer and willie nelson.
Most importantly I have a Creator, Sustainer and Savior that loves me and guides me and doesn't give up on me.
Even when a HUGE case blows up BIG!!! and threatens to ruin Christmas and Thanksgiving and once and for all put us in the poor house... I can still say that I LOVE MY LIFE!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
BLOGGOD
article on FOXNEWS about Christian Blogging and a Conference for Godbloggers. This was certainly the idea as I started blogging, to share my faith as I go through life. I feel like that has been tremendously lacking in my posts and just in general. I really want to change that and begin to live out my faith more at home, at work and here on my blog.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Hire me to cheer for your team
my services are now for sale. Apparently God has ordained all my teams to kick butt. The Longhorns. The Astros. The Spurs. Heck, even the Cowboys are getting their act together.
Prices will be determined based on my loathing of your team.
Prices will be determined based on my loathing of your team.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Dreams of a Chainsaw
Alicia and I have finally been able to take in a hurricane evacuee like we had first set out to do. If you remember back, some entries ago, I mentioned that we were wanting to help out a single mom who was displaced to the hurricane and now we are doing just that!
When Rita blew in and knocked out Beumont and Port Arthur, Myrtle (aka Mimi) had no place to stay and needed a home to refuge in. Fortunately, Mimi's granddaughters did not live too far away, one in San Antonio and the other in good old Sugar Land. So after a brief stint in SA, Alicia's gramma (and her little dog too!) came to stay with us until they can get Beaumont up and running again.
We are absolutely blessed to get to spend this time with Mimi and she is just a wonderful lady and a get-along to go-along kind of a person - which is some what uncommon in old people. call me a hater but it's true. She has been pretty worried about damage done to her house and her town, so on Saturday I drove with her to Beaumont and surveyed the damage. Fortunately, her house was absolutely fine. Zero damage. Every freaking tree in the county did not fair so well. Driving through there was pretty amazing. Awesome in the terrible sense of the word. Gigantic trees pushed over like it was nothing. Some were snapped in half, but most were uprooted. Trees as long as 3 house lengths, laying on the ground with their tremendous root system sticking out of the ground. This story repeated everywhere. Tree after tree after tree consumed people yards and crowded into the streets. (I guess what they say about George Bush hating the environment IS true) Amazingly, we saw very little structural damage compared to the Ent-terrifying tree damage.
The power was still off in almost all the area (even for the white people!) and our biggest task was cleaning out Mimi's refrigerator and freezers. You know how old people keep their house stocked with food...
Imagine a freezer packed to overflowing with meat and chicken (all raw) sitting in a hot box for almost 2 weeks. Maggots crawling everywhere. Blood dripping on everything. The sweetish smell of rotting meat stuck in your nostrils and on your hands. I did my task without looking at everything too closely but the smell almost overcame me twice. I can't write gross enough words to describe that smell. A mortician I'm not.
The local radio was taking in calls all day and dispensing information. The biggest complaint/most common was 1. that it was impossible to nail down a correct number for the red cross and 2. FEMA was evaluating income levels before dispensing food stamps unlike with Katrina - I guess the government really doesn't help those who help themselves.
When Rita blew in and knocked out Beumont and Port Arthur, Myrtle (aka Mimi) had no place to stay and needed a home to refuge in. Fortunately, Mimi's granddaughters did not live too far away, one in San Antonio and the other in good old Sugar Land. So after a brief stint in SA, Alicia's gramma (and her little dog too!) came to stay with us until they can get Beaumont up and running again.
We are absolutely blessed to get to spend this time with Mimi and she is just a wonderful lady and a get-along to go-along kind of a person - which is some what uncommon in old people. call me a hater but it's true. She has been pretty worried about damage done to her house and her town, so on Saturday I drove with her to Beaumont and surveyed the damage. Fortunately, her house was absolutely fine. Zero damage. Every freaking tree in the county did not fair so well. Driving through there was pretty amazing. Awesome in the terrible sense of the word. Gigantic trees pushed over like it was nothing. Some were snapped in half, but most were uprooted. Trees as long as 3 house lengths, laying on the ground with their tremendous root system sticking out of the ground. This story repeated everywhere. Tree after tree after tree consumed people yards and crowded into the streets. (I guess what they say about George Bush hating the environment IS true) Amazingly, we saw very little structural damage compared to the Ent-terrifying tree damage.
The power was still off in almost all the area (even for the white people!) and our biggest task was cleaning out Mimi's refrigerator and freezers. You know how old people keep their house stocked with food...
Imagine a freezer packed to overflowing with meat and chicken (all raw) sitting in a hot box for almost 2 weeks. Maggots crawling everywhere. Blood dripping on everything. The sweetish smell of rotting meat stuck in your nostrils and on your hands. I did my task without looking at everything too closely but the smell almost overcame me twice. I can't write gross enough words to describe that smell. A mortician I'm not.
The local radio was taking in calls all day and dispensing information. The biggest complaint/most common was 1. that it was impossible to nail down a correct number for the red cross and 2. FEMA was evaluating income levels before dispensing food stamps unlike with Katrina - I guess the government really doesn't help those who help themselves.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Highway 90
have you ever had TOO much to blog about? that's me right now. the whole hurricane and gridlock experience. getting back to work in the midst of a vacant town. work finally taking an upswing. taking on a cool part time job at crosspoint. i am pregnant with ideas and thoughts - rants and philosophical questions. but i am completely incapable of writing them all down. too much time to unjumble my thoughts and write them down coherently and it would be too long of a narrative if i did unjumble anyway.
at the same time, i feel like that is the next entry i should include. why throw something urbane up here when i have interesting and funny stuff?
because i have a freakin' life and i don't have a flippin' clue how to share all of the vomit up in my head. so with that being said, i'm going to skip that whole chapter. but i will give you a mental picture that i think surmises the entire episode: driving through east Texas at 3:30 in the morning, hopped up on Dr. Pepper and Starbucks Double Shot. Surrounded by 2.5 million of my closest Houston friends. Drinking my only food: Slim fast shakes, which, if you don't know, act like a diuretic. With absolutely no restrooms in sight.
at the same time, i feel like that is the next entry i should include. why throw something urbane up here when i have interesting and funny stuff?
because i have a freakin' life and i don't have a flippin' clue how to share all of the vomit up in my head. so with that being said, i'm going to skip that whole chapter. but i will give you a mental picture that i think surmises the entire episode: driving through east Texas at 3:30 in the morning, hopped up on Dr. Pepper and Starbucks Double Shot. Surrounded by 2.5 million of my closest Houston friends. Drinking my only food: Slim fast shakes, which, if you don't know, act like a diuretic. With absolutely no restrooms in sight.
Monday, September 19, 2005
does it get any better than this?
shooting skeet all day, taking a break to try my hand at bow hunting, talked about God and how to raise a family, drank Crown under a huge oak tree and stared up at a full Texas moon.
Malin shot a shotgun for the very first and second time, she made new friends and gave me lots of hugs.
life is good
Malin shot a shotgun for the very first and second time, she made new friends and gave me lots of hugs.
life is good
Thursday, September 15, 2005
You've come along way baby
I think it takes a lot of guts for NARAL to use the term "baby" in any of their slogans. But I guess some people have no shame.
Basically, 4-5 pharmacists have refused to sell the "morning after pill" to some women based on moral convictions and NARAL is having a cow over it.
get it...NARAL... giving birth... you know, because they love abortion. Oh, is that tacky? I guess only conservatives are supposed to have class.
What does truly get me is that the byline to "You've come a long way, baby" is "but how much further do we have to go?"
What do these people want?
abortion for anyone, at anytime, for free. regardless of age, or length of pregnancy. Generations from now, people will view this practice as abhorrent, in the same vein as slavery and genocide. As science takes a closer look at the beginnings of life, abortion rights activists will appear more and more barbaric.
Basically, 4-5 pharmacists have refused to sell the "morning after pill" to some women based on moral convictions and NARAL is having a cow over it.
get it...NARAL... giving birth... you know, because they love abortion. Oh, is that tacky? I guess only conservatives are supposed to have class.
What does truly get me is that the byline to "You've come a long way, baby" is "but how much further do we have to go?"
What do these people want?
abortion for anyone, at anytime, for free. regardless of age, or length of pregnancy. Generations from now, people will view this practice as abhorrent, in the same vein as slavery and genocide. As science takes a closer look at the beginnings of life, abortion rights activists will appear more and more barbaric.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
rumination
something strange has been taking place in the Maroney household as of late: I have actually been doing some thinking.
Living here in Houston, puts us in the Katrina aftermath. Not as victims but as either participants or rubbernecks. A train wreck of humanity just exploded on Houston's doorstep and people have to decide how they are going to react to it. Similarly, in San Antonio and Baton Rouge and multiple other sites to a degree.
Let it be said that New Orleans and even Louisiana has allowed itself to be a cesspool of sin, poverty and corruption for generations. That it has now become a virtual cesspool is a sad irony. New Orleans should by all reason and intellect be the trade and oil capitol of the United States but it's hand-out mentality (one hand for a bribe the other for welfare) has closed the door to this possibility. Now these victims of New Orleans and survivors of Katrina are here.
I am ashamed to say that I have watched as Houston has thrown open the flood gates of compassion to these poor families. Donating food, money and clothes. Volunteering to work the night shift at the dome or Reliant Center because they work 8 to 5 at their real job. And I have watched.
My parents are part of Concordia's effort in San Antonio. In fact, they both went down to help out in person. My dad unloading donations and handing them out and my mom as a ad-hoc grief counselor.
Alicia and I have talked about ways that we can help and we want to help a single mom get back on her feet with housing and finding a job. will update as this gets underway.
the other issue that is pressing home for me is a longing to be serving full time in ministry. Granted, there is a lot about my job that I simply hate. Granted, it is a daily struggle, one that I am not sure I will win. But beneath all of that and stronger is the desire to put all of this effort, energy and 70 hours a week into something that matters, something that makes a difference in people's lives. not just trying to make a buck, get the sale and move on. I do not and will not approach my job in a way that sees only what's in it for me. But beyond doing my job with morals and looking after their financial needs, I want to look after people's spiritual needs.
These are my thoughts as of late. the more I think and the more I pray, the stronger they get. In many ways, I feel like I have found one piece of a puzzle and am groping around for more pieces, not sure if there are any more pieces.
Living here in Houston, puts us in the Katrina aftermath. Not as victims but as either participants or rubbernecks. A train wreck of humanity just exploded on Houston's doorstep and people have to decide how they are going to react to it. Similarly, in San Antonio and Baton Rouge and multiple other sites to a degree.
Let it be said that New Orleans and even Louisiana has allowed itself to be a cesspool of sin, poverty and corruption for generations. That it has now become a virtual cesspool is a sad irony. New Orleans should by all reason and intellect be the trade and oil capitol of the United States but it's hand-out mentality (one hand for a bribe the other for welfare) has closed the door to this possibility. Now these victims of New Orleans and survivors of Katrina are here.
I am ashamed to say that I have watched as Houston has thrown open the flood gates of compassion to these poor families. Donating food, money and clothes. Volunteering to work the night shift at the dome or Reliant Center because they work 8 to 5 at their real job. And I have watched.
My parents are part of Concordia's effort in San Antonio. In fact, they both went down to help out in person. My dad unloading donations and handing them out and my mom as a ad-hoc grief counselor.
Alicia and I have talked about ways that we can help and we want to help a single mom get back on her feet with housing and finding a job. will update as this gets underway.
the other issue that is pressing home for me is a longing to be serving full time in ministry. Granted, there is a lot about my job that I simply hate. Granted, it is a daily struggle, one that I am not sure I will win. But beneath all of that and stronger is the desire to put all of this effort, energy and 70 hours a week into something that matters, something that makes a difference in people's lives. not just trying to make a buck, get the sale and move on. I do not and will not approach my job in a way that sees only what's in it for me. But beyond doing my job with morals and looking after their financial needs, I want to look after people's spiritual needs.
These are my thoughts as of late. the more I think and the more I pray, the stronger they get. In many ways, I feel like I have found one piece of a puzzle and am groping around for more pieces, not sure if there are any more pieces.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
It's almost not fair
Fresh from their 2005 championship against the Pist-ons, the small market nobodies went and picked up Michael Finley. Doing so, they beat out Shaq who was personally handling the recruiting for the Heat, who were able to offer quite a bit more cha-ching. In the end though, Finley was more interested in the bling. Apparently, the poor deluded superstar thinks that the Spurs are set to grab their 4th ring. Obviously, all of the press and attention has gone to his head. I mean what chances do the Spurs really have...
All they did was steal another great foreign player in Fabricio Oberto (post), add Nick Van Exel to back up Tony Parker (point) and now Finley as a dynamite backup for Manu Ginobli.
Hold on... am I crazy or did the Reigning NBA Champion Spurs just firm up their 3 week spots with great players?
Oh yeah... did I mention that Finley turned down $5 million with the Heat to play for $2.5 with the Spurs... Sandbox Recruiting Lesson #1 for Shaq: don't be a jerk your entire career and expect people to play with you.
All they did was steal another great foreign player in Fabricio Oberto (post), add Nick Van Exel to back up Tony Parker (point) and now Finley as a dynamite backup for Manu Ginobli.
Hold on... am I crazy or did the Reigning NBA Champion Spurs just firm up their 3 week spots with great players?
Oh yeah... did I mention that Finley turned down $5 million with the Heat to play for $2.5 with the Spurs... Sandbox Recruiting Lesson #1 for Shaq: don't be a jerk your entire career and expect people to play with you.
Monday, August 29, 2005
What is greatest?
Have to give a shout out to my Boys in Big D! Especially now that we have some D! I was listening to the pre-game and the game on the radio Saturday night and there is nothing that makes me more agitated than having to sit through Houston's whiney-cry baby, excuse making, slandering homer announcers on 610.
I know the announcers in San Antonio were way biased for the Spurs but these guys absolutely take it to a new level. After a full hour of trashing the "Ka-boys" they are quick to drop in a "and if we lose, this game doesn't matter...".
It was sweeter than Boones Farm Strawberry Hill, listening to their voices drop and have to report each of Carrs' interceptions, and apologize for saying that Roy Williams is decapitating recievers. I thought my joy was complete as the game wrapped up Saturday night but I was treated this morning to a special post game morsel. The get-along gang on AM 610 were whining about how Dallas fans were being mean and rubbing their noses in the loss, and Texans fans were jumping ship.
Ahhhhhh. the sweet smell of defeat. Or as Conan would describe what is greatest "CRUSH YOUR ENEMY. SEE HIM DRIVEN BEFORE YOU. HEAR THE LAMENTATIONS OF THE WOMEN."
I know it's just pre-season, but listening to the lamentations of those women on Sports Talk is just too good to not comment on.
I know the announcers in San Antonio were way biased for the Spurs but these guys absolutely take it to a new level. After a full hour of trashing the "Ka-boys" they are quick to drop in a "and if we lose, this game doesn't matter...".
It was sweeter than Boones Farm Strawberry Hill, listening to their voices drop and have to report each of Carrs' interceptions, and apologize for saying that Roy Williams is decapitating recievers. I thought my joy was complete as the game wrapped up Saturday night but I was treated this morning to a special post game morsel. The get-along gang on AM 610 were whining about how Dallas fans were being mean and rubbing their noses in the loss, and Texans fans were jumping ship.
Ahhhhhh. the sweet smell of defeat. Or as Conan would describe what is greatest "CRUSH YOUR ENEMY. SEE HIM DRIVEN BEFORE YOU. HEAR THE LAMENTATIONS OF THE WOMEN."
I know it's just pre-season, but listening to the lamentations of those women on Sports Talk is just too good to not comment on.
Monday, August 22, 2005
write it out
I remember as a kid my family went up to see Uncle Richard in Dallas. Growing up, my family rarely went on vacations where tents weren't involved and Coleman stoves didn't heat our meals. But our Dallas visit was different. Uncle Richard had a huge, fancy house with a gigantaur pool. This was back when pools were the absolute end-all, be-all of childhood existence.
My sister and I played and swam and Uncle Richard morphed into "the monster of the deep" a dangerous being that would well up from the bottom of the pool, grab kids and fling them across the pool. Everything was very relaxed and easy going.
While on our visit, he even sprang for tickets for our whole family to go to Sesame Street Place (knock off on Disney Land only newer, smaller and Big Bird)
He was loved by the entire family and although he was my grandfather's brother he was as much a fixture as any immeadiate family.
Richard never married. he has always had the same friend for as long as I have known him. While there were definite "issues" between my grandfather and the questions revolving around my uncle's lifestyle, he has always been accepted and loved. that went equally for his friend as well, who would accompany him to family get togethers.
The intent of this post is not to bash or to make generalizations but it is to question and grieve.
Does the homosexual lifestyle generally lead to the type of isolation that my departed Uncle felt? The two instances that I have seen personally have been very similar. Individuals that are accepted and loved by their family but have chosen for one reason or another to separate themselves and live apart from a community of people who care for them. Is this symptomatic of the entire gay and lesbian community?
I would venture to say that a fair amount of people have no choice but instead have been cast out of family environments (or because of past encounters, envision family as hostility). Two other factors in this equation would be committed relationships and parenthood.
Before I get bashed over the head, I will admit to very little knowledge of the GLBT community. Looking to have a conversation here and wonder out loud a bit.
My sister and I played and swam and Uncle Richard morphed into "the monster of the deep" a dangerous being that would well up from the bottom of the pool, grab kids and fling them across the pool. Everything was very relaxed and easy going.
While on our visit, he even sprang for tickets for our whole family to go to Sesame Street Place (knock off on Disney Land only newer, smaller and Big Bird)
He was loved by the entire family and although he was my grandfather's brother he was as much a fixture as any immeadiate family.
Richard never married. he has always had the same friend for as long as I have known him. While there were definite "issues" between my grandfather and the questions revolving around my uncle's lifestyle, he has always been accepted and loved. that went equally for his friend as well, who would accompany him to family get togethers.
The intent of this post is not to bash or to make generalizations but it is to question and grieve.
Does the homosexual lifestyle generally lead to the type of isolation that my departed Uncle felt? The two instances that I have seen personally have been very similar. Individuals that are accepted and loved by their family but have chosen for one reason or another to separate themselves and live apart from a community of people who care for them. Is this symptomatic of the entire gay and lesbian community?
I would venture to say that a fair amount of people have no choice but instead have been cast out of family environments (or because of past encounters, envision family as hostility). Two other factors in this equation would be committed relationships and parenthood.
Before I get bashed over the head, I will admit to very little knowledge of the GLBT community. Looking to have a conversation here and wonder out loud a bit.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
life cycle
experienced death and life yesterday.
I was able to witness a beautiful new baby being baptized by her daddy, mom fighting back tears watching on. both of them committing their lives and the life of their new child to God. As Alicia and I looked on we committed ourselves to this child and to helping her grow in faith.
Watching a miracle take place and so much love focused on such a small, little person.
Driving home, I was talking with my dad and I found out that my uncle (really my dad's uncle) passed away. It turns out that he had a stroke about a week ago and went into the hospital and that he never regained consciousness and eventually died.
No one visited him in the hospital and he was cremated and interned within a days time. No funeral.
My family recieved a letter that he passed away and that contributions could be made to his favorite charity. This was all done according to his own requests. He requested that if something should happen to him that no family would be contacted until after everything was taken care of.
Everything is going through my head at once and I want to share about it and I think it is important to share this but while I have words, I don't know how to put it all down right now and that may take some time. Not due to being emotionally overwhelmed or because I am in some deep greiving because neither are true. I just don't know how to put it all to paper.
I was able to witness a beautiful new baby being baptized by her daddy, mom fighting back tears watching on. both of them committing their lives and the life of their new child to God. As Alicia and I looked on we committed ourselves to this child and to helping her grow in faith.
Watching a miracle take place and so much love focused on such a small, little person.
Driving home, I was talking with my dad and I found out that my uncle (really my dad's uncle) passed away. It turns out that he had a stroke about a week ago and went into the hospital and that he never regained consciousness and eventually died.
No one visited him in the hospital and he was cremated and interned within a days time. No funeral.
My family recieved a letter that he passed away and that contributions could be made to his favorite charity. This was all done according to his own requests. He requested that if something should happen to him that no family would be contacted until after everything was taken care of.
Everything is going through my head at once and I want to share about it and I think it is important to share this but while I have words, I don't know how to put it all down right now and that may take some time. Not due to being emotionally overwhelmed or because I am in some deep greiving because neither are true. I just don't know how to put it all to paper.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
my wife made me write this
I think it's funny to do a search on your own name and see who the other people are that share your name. What they look like and what they do. it's a way to size yourself up and see how you're doing in life.
So when I found the blondheaded cheeseball in the picture on the right, I had to paste him up there.
411: he's a car salesman in Canada and his brother works at the same dealership. His brother's name is Lance.
When I explained this inside joke to Alicia she just looked at me quizzically. I used to think that when she looked at me like that, she was trying to figure out what I had just said. Now I realize she is trying to figure out why in the world she ever married me.
So when I found the blondheaded cheeseball in the picture on the right, I had to paste him up there.
411: he's a car salesman in Canada and his brother works at the same dealership. His brother's name is Lance.
When I explained this inside joke to Alicia she just looked at me quizzically. I used to think that when she looked at me like that, she was trying to figure out what I had just said. Now I realize she is trying to figure out why in the world she ever married me.
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