Finger nails

  A duck walks into a bar and asked the bartender for some grapes.  "We don't sell grapes", huffed the bartender.

  The next day the duck went back into the bar and again asked for grapes. Very irate, the bartender says, "we don't sell grapes!"

  The following day the duck walks into the bar and again asks for grapes. Fed up, the bartender says, "if you come in here again and ask for grapes I am going to nail you to the wall!"

  The next day the duck walks into the bar and asks if they had any nails. The puzzled bartender says, "Well, no, I don't have any nails".

  The ducks says, "Hmm, well then, got any grapes?"

  Dumb joke. But it made for a good transition into nails, finger nails that is!

  About a year ago I stopped chewing my finger nails off. This has been a learning experience. I have never had to trim, file, or clean my nails before. I think I am doing fairly well.

  I like having actual finger nails. I like it when they are clean and well trimmed. Until yesterday.

  I didn't bite them off or anything like that. Instead what happened is, I caught one on a piece of metal and ripped the entire end off. Yowza!

  I had always heard women complain about chipping or breaking a nail. I never understood. So, for all the women who have I would like to say, "That really hurts!" I gotta be more careful.

  Oh well, guess it will grow back. For now, I just have a sensitive finger tip. I kinda wish it had been my middle finger so I could show people. Just kidding! 

Donkey poop

  Some people may not have a history with donkey poop. I have lots.

  For starters, I grew up in the mountains. There were donkeys that lived there. They were wild yet somewhat tame-ish. In the field behind the house they would gather and roll around in the dirt. The "bowl" that they created by rolling around was always a curious site to explore.

  The neighbors house had stained wood finish. I guess it had just the right flavor profile because the donkeys would chew the corners off the house.

  Our dogs liked the donkeys. They loved to chase them around. We were always worried one would get kicked. Eventually one did. The dog came home with one eye popped out of its socket. I thought dad might try and stuff it back in. That would have been cool!

  Well the donkeys were real poop producers. And us kids just had to find a use for something that was all around us. What to do?

  Fresh ones were still damp so they could stick to your target. And they made a pleasant shplaat when they hit.
  We never could figure out what to do with the dry ones. So they became, on a quiet summer day, the matter of a truth or dare contest. It didn't matter what the truth was, we wanted to see if someone would eat the dried donkey muffins. I did.

  Of course I did. Who wouldn't?

  Next we come to the Grand Canyon. We are on a hike to the bottom and back up. I marvel at all the donkey scat around. Actually I think they were burros. But the flavor was likely the same.

  I commented on all the ample supply of donkey poop around and how great that was. My uncle Aaron thought that was grand as well. He chartered me a licence for exploration.

  It was my job to survey the path ahead and make sure everyone knew when the path was obscured by the delectible droppings. Ok, enough of the food references. That's just gross!

  So what my uncle had created was magic. My family got to enjoy the wonder of Gods creation, marvelling at all the beautiful rocks, while listening to a young boy merrily travel the trail ahead calling out "donkey poop" every few seconds. Wow there was so much! Woohoo! 

  I remember my uncle laughing til his side hurt! He was bright red and loving it. My mom was disgusted. She hadn't  known I ate the stuff, she just didn't like my "donkey poop" serenade. Ah, the sounds of the canyon and a little boy calling out "donkey poop" for hours on end. Ain't life grand, er canyon that is!

A Claymore and the dragons

  The title doesn't give too much away, does it? A claymore is a two handed broadsword made by the Scotish. The 17th century was fought using those tremendous weapons. Someday I hope to get one.

  Let me share a tale. Its a true tale. One that happened to me. Somewhere in the forgotten past....

  I remember those epic battles of youth. The swords would be drawn and we would "duel". It was a delicate process because we were frightened of actually getting hurt. I mean, sure the swords were plastic, but they could draw first blood! So we would end up hacking at bushes or trees, but really we were slaying ogres.

  Many a valiant campaign was fought in those days. Enemy camps were all around. When the territories were finally conquered, we then turned our attention to the enormous dragon problem that faced the countryside.

  We would set up these huge iron prisons and capture the dragons. Wrestling the dragon and making it play nice was our way of showing off. Watch out men! Be very careful to avoid those slavering teeth!

  The dragons loved hiding in the shade. So, we would perch the prison upon a great rock on one side and then wait for the dragon to hide underneath. Then very quietly we would sneak up, yank away the boulder, and capture the magnificent beast.

  While in captivity the dragons would get hungry and we would plunder the neighboring towns for goats or sheep to calm the savage creature.

  Sometimes the dragon would make for an escape. We would cast ourselves onto his tail and wrestle him back into the prison. Some dragons had learned to abandon their tail so they could escape and they could grow new ones! Can't save your face and ass at the same time, right? 

  Eventually night time would come. We would have to retire our swords for the night. Usually we let the dragons go but sometimes mom allowed us to keep them inside.

  I am not sure she understood why we would take her iron skillets outside or why we would set them on the ground with one side lifted up by a rock. Those were the days when skillets were prisons, lizards were dragons, flies were sheep, and little boys were warriors.

Vacation

  Ah sweet vacations. A time for relaxation. Maybe a little romance. In short, unplugging from stress.

  That is the way vacations should be. For me? Not so much.

  In times past vacations were actually quite stressful on me. Beyond the facts of spending money and seeing people, there was always an anticipation of great things that never quite happened the way I thought they should.

  Rain in Disneyland. Fog at the Grand Canyon. Arguments with kids, relatives, and wife. How is it that I can mess up even the most perfect of times? If the sign says "fun times ahead" I get twitchy.

  Yet the romantic idea of a vacation still attracts me. The thoughts of seemingly endless days on the beach or watching a sunset thru the trees while camping. Those boundless days finding the next exciting ride at the theme park. And yes, even spending time around the table trying to relate with people I barely know.

  Family is the point of vacation. At times I felt like Clark Griswald just trying to eek out a little fun, even if it kills us.

  There are many wonderful memories of spectacular times spent vacationing with my family. Those great experiences are items I will always cherish.

  May God grant me a chance to lay down some more memories. I promise to savor every moment. After all, we only have right now. Live in it!    

 

The Pretender

  When others share their experience it affords me an opportunity to relate. This in turn causes deep reflection and perhaps change in my own life. 

  When a man pours out his life experience, I am most willing to learn from this man. The difficulty I have is when men won't do this. They clam up and seem to think that all has changed and thus became better. They seemingly think that time has changed events. I can't relate.

  I can relate to a man who has walked through the tough issues, then shares what had happened. I imagine a warrior who has fought an epic battle. Not an epic battle with an outside enemy, but rather his own flesh. One day he starts seeing some victory. Praise God.

  Years later you ask the guy what it was like. I don't know if its pride, ego, or brain disease, but the guy can't or won't recall the days he struggled. He comforts himself by working even harder for God thinking that the past will just fade away. He fools himself into thinking that perhaps he never struggled. Oh foolish man, how can you help another?

  Listen up pretender. You think God delivered you from yourself just so you can make believe you never failed. Who are you kidding here? Me or God?

  Come on men! Own you faults. Did you have a marriage that failed? Did you fail your marriage? You say, "Well she had a boyfriend". I am sure you were as pure as the wind driven snow. Your mind never commited adultery. Or maybe you had a girlfriend on the side. Nobody knows so you won't tell. Come on man!

  Please men, I beg you, stop white washing those sepulchers. When you share about how good you were while your family was being destroyed, I know you are being a liar and a hypocrite! You can offer me nothing. I can't learn from you how to serve God better when all you do is revise history. Do you really feel better trying to fool me? Pretender.

  Ok, relax here Josh. Gotta calm down a bit. I am sorry dear reader if the wording gets a bit severe. I have been wounded by men who act as though they never failed. Imagine this, they even tell me to try and hide my own failures so I won't have problems! This is not Gods way.

  I am a horrible wretched sinner. My specific sins are so terrifying, I am really not able to talk about them in an open forum. Someday God may ask me to. He hasn't yet. Today I share my story with specific men around me. They have to know what I have done and what God is doing. Failure on my part to share the truth renders me useless for God.

  Think of King David. Many stories of his failures are in the bible. Murder, adultery, idolatry, lying, etc... they are all there. Yet God loved him. He was a dude after Gods own heart! Cool!

  So, how about it men. Can you put aside the paint brush, stop white washing history, and share about your own failures? You seem to do good at sharing about other mens failures. Try sharing yours.

  We must, as men, stop pretending that we always had it all together. Our wretched past is nothing to be ashamed of, if Christ has washed us clean in his blood. Allow God to use your past as an illustration that others can relate to. Or, we can go on pretending and hope our past won't haunt us. Chose wisely. 

Crying out

Here's a video about desperation. I have these thoughts happen. I am so glad others have these thoughts also. Praise God!

Sweet summer rain

  I am parked in the Seattle area today. For the last week or so the temperature had been fairly warm, edging on hot.

  The blackberry bushes are laden heavy with the fresh berries. This day of coolness and rain will refresh those berries. In a day or two the berries will be sweet and very pie worthy.

  I love the summer rain. The smell of the asphalt freshly rinsed seems to draw me back to a simpler time.

  The rain is so lovely. It is a gentle rain. There isn't even a hint of a breeze.

  These simple pleasures must never be forgotten. It is an evening like this where you can sit on the porch and listen to the seasons change. You can worry if the dog will shake while you stand next to her. The birds and bugs have called it a night. The gentle pitter and patter is like a summer symphony.

  Enjoy these days my friends. God has provided an amazing world. Let it calm the savage beast. If you have a beauty, take her outside and enjoy a coffee together. Be still and know God. 

Darkness

Here is a song that reminds me how I feel sometimes. 

Expressing Love

  When life is full of turmoil, when answers are not forthcoming, when things don't yet make sense, how do we share our love?

  As Christians we are told to "Love one another". Obviously if this were easy or natural we wouldn't need such a command. But this still doesn't answer how we are to express our love.

  For some occasions telling the person that you love them is the primary choice. We debate within ourselves about telling a person that we love them because sometimes the act of telling them can be damaging.

  Think of a woman who has been in an abusive relationship. She loves her husband but telling him so may cause even greater harm. Her choice on telling him may revolve around his repentance. If he is repentant her decision may be easier. Then again, it may not.

  She may be waiting for him to bring forth "works meet for repentance". She would be wise to wait for that time. She may be concerned that regardless of his repentance they should not have a future together. Again, she is wise to not speak of her love.

  Let's consider the man. He has failed his bride. If he is a wise man he is repentant. So what is he to do? Should he say he loves her while the process of recovery is ongoing?

  If the man is unrepentant the choice is simple. She may say that she loves him but that his actions have driven a wedge into her heart and she can't let him be a part of her heart anymore.

  If he is repentant but she is still unsure about the future, she would be well advised to guard her heart. He has trampled that heart so much, why should she risk the danger?

  In the end we must always be led by God. He is love. He knows how to express love. He also knows what choices we should be making. Place your trust in Him dear friend. He is worthy of our praise. 

9/11

  While growing up I heard people share how they had remembered vividly what they were doing when something major happened. They spoke about JFK being assasinated and man landing on the moon.

  I really didn't understand this phenomena. When Sept. 11th happened I understood completely. I know precisely where I was when I heard the news.

  As I reflect upon that day, I have a deeper understanding of the loss experienced by those families whose loved ones died. This national calamity has very personal consequences for many people. I mourn for their losses.

  It is important for us to be aware of others grief. If I pass over those who have suffered, I am failing. At a very base level, Jesus understood the struggles we have in our lives.

  Let us have compassion on those who have lost loved ones. We also will lose loved ones. Perhaps we already have.

  This life is but a vapor, the Bible teaches. We have a brief time that we can serve our Creator. Let this day of rememberance keep us aware of others who struggle through their life. May we be sensitive and loving. 
 

Extra pay

  What everyone loves is a bit of extra pay. It seems like manna from heaven.  So, when I had an opportunity to earn a little extra this morning, I thought "Yipee this is great!" 

  In order to earn my extra pay, I would have to unload my truck myself and "create" a receipt for the lumper. Then I could cash the check for the lumper. All cash. No taxes. $175 for 3 hours work, right now. Oooh it is so tempting.

  I actually entertained this idea for a few minutes. There is plenty I could use the extra money for. I most likely would never get caught by my company or the IRS. Why then should I not?

  I would get caught by my heavenly boss. God himself says that I should love him above money. This money, although big in my world, is nothing to him. I stand on the principles of Gods holy word today. My conscience bears witness to the truth.

  It is never easy. The alternative is darkness and I am afraid of the dark.

Fruit pizza

  My wife just posted a new profile picture on Facebook and it is of a fruit pizza. Yummo! Oh the fond memories that photo reminded me of!

  The setting is summer time in my childhood. Every summer would include a trip to the Northwest. It was on one of these vacations I met this incredible food. The fruit pizza was destined to become one of my favorite foods.

  But this is no ordinary dessert or snack. The fruit pizza bursts forth with bright colors and vivid flavors. In some ways it is like a fruit pie minus the pan or oven. I suppose there could rage a debate amongst fruit pie versus fruit pizza. Much like the debate about Chicago and New York style pizza.

  For me, there isn't any debate. I love fruit pie. It is great for dessert most any time of the year. It tugs at the heartstrings of a bygone era and leaves me celebrating and mourning the passage of my youth.

  These feelings are further developed when I remember my wife making her first fruit pizza. I had explained the phenomena to her and with a license agreement from my grandma my wife made the delectible pizza. It was so beautiful we almost didn't eat it!

  The fruit pizza has the perfect blend of sweet, sour, tart, and crunch. The variations of fruit that can be used is endless, so the pleasure is limitless. Like many great foods, fruit pizza is so good that it is seldom made. It isn't brought out for specific occasions, but when created it always is a crowd favorite. One needn't have a degree in cooking to create a great fruit pizza, just some simple ingredients and some imagination.

  Hmm, I need a snack. Got any ideas?

Interuptions

  I heard Luke 8:41-56 preached in a way I had never heard before. Let me explain what I learned.

  Jesus returns back from a brief trip. The trip itself was incredible and when Jesus returns he finds the people gladly receiving him. They had been waiting for him.

  A man steps out of the crowd named Jairus. Jairus approached Jesus and requested for him to come to his house. It says in verse 42 that Jairus' daughter lay dying. It was Jairus' only daughter, about twelve years old. Heavy stuff. 

  Jesus accepts the invitation and they start heading out. Then the story changes. The people began to press in a bit and suddenly a woman touched the border of Jesus' garment and was healed! Jesus stops and addresses the woman. Jairus' plans are interupted.

  What is Jairus gonna do? This delay may mess up everything. I never noticed that he had been placed into waiting while the woman with the "issue" got healed. How is Jairus gonna handle the situation? Is he thinking that God is less concerned about his problems than before? Perhaps he is thinking that there is still plenty of time. Maybe it will still be okay. Healings only take a couple of verses. Its fine. 

  Well, the plot thickens. While Jesus is sharing a lesson about the woman being healed, someone from Jairus' house arrives with news, "Thy daughter is dead, trouble not the Master".

  Here is what I would have been like. My mind starts racing. My pulse quickens. My body won't function right. I can't breathe. Is she really dead? OH NO, I didn't make it! The quest is over. I swung for the fences and struck out! I won't ever see my daughter again.

  Ever been there? Same here.

Jesus read this mans thoughts and said some words of encouragement.

  Jesus said, "Fear not: believe only, and she shall be made whole."  Jesus knew what was going thru poor Jairus' mind. They continued the journey.  
 
  I am on a journey. I stumble along grasping for faith. I have found Jesus. He says that he will come. To be precise, I will follow. Its a long, long trail. I never been on this trail before this. "Where are we going Lord?" Did we get diverted. I want to cry out, "Hurry up, we might be too late!"

  Am I really this naive after reading this story? Sometimes.  I know Jesus is leading my path home. I freak out on occasion and hope my family will be found alive when I get there. Yet I trust him.

  The story ends with Jesus being ridiculed and him rescuing the girl. I like happy endings. Knowing Jesus has been the sweetest thing I have ever known. People ridicule him, yet I know he is all powerful. After all, I sure ain't got any power. It is all Jesus. 

Husbands love your wives

  Here's a video of a young man striving to be like Christ. He wants to love his wife the way Christ loves the church, just as the Lord commands.

  I am awestruck by this. Where was I when lessons like this were being taught? It took a powerful jolt for me to change. What would it take for me to be able to sing this song? Learning guitar and becoming a better singer for starters.

  The needed change has already happened, as far as wanting to serve God by loving my wife. I am a dufus for not seeing it before. I will strive to be what God wants me to be. I can not control what others will do or what the future will be. I will serve the One who does. 

  So I call out for men everywhere, will you love your wife the way Christ loves the church? Start now! Perhaps she will be like Christ and forgive all the crap you pulled before. Just be willing men, and allow God the chance at leading your marriage. Repent men. Give of yourself. Crucify your flesh. She is worth it. Jesus thought we were.