Ode to beauty...

You know, I don't say it enough. My wife is beautiful. My wife is aesthetically captivating. When you see her, you really need to look again. There is something mystical about a woman who demands a second look because you can't take it all in at the first glance.

I know that she doesn't think she is beautiful, I wish she did, but she is. She has a look that captures your eye and she has a smile that captures your heart. If you ever get to sit and talk to her, she has an amazing way of becoming more captivating as the conversation progresses. Every word and every thought reveals a new facet to who she is and to the passion that she carries inside. I am fortunate, because she chooses to release that passion on me. I do not tell her enough, but I do not ever want her to forget how beautiful she truly is.

The Celebration Cup...

Yesterday Mar and I had a little picnic at our church. Odd space for a picnic I know, but it was actually quite nice. As we were leaving we ran into Jerry, our Pastor. As we were talking, he looked into his mailbox and all of a sudden got quite excited. "It's a Celebration Cup!" he exclaimed.
Not knowing what a celebration cup was, I looked into the very small box, which I thought was much too small to have a cup in it and my eyes feasted on what has possibly become the ultimate in no muss, no fuss religious paraphanalia. The cup, shown below, is a prepackaged wafer, and a sealed cup of juice.

Now, I can see these being used in cetain applications. For example, our church likes to do things in large group settings; Camps, Retreats, Marathon Runs to In and Out Burger, things of this nature. In these circumstances, I can certainly see the benefit of these celebration cups. A convenient way to have supper with the Lord while maintaining the momentum of everyday life.
But the more I thought about it, it became one more way to make the command of Psalm 46:10 more difficult to achieve.
In our church we have communion set out every Sunday as part of our corporate worship experience. As I thought about this last night, I began to wonder how it is put together. In my mind, the people who put communion together have an incredible opportunity to use that simple act of service to pray over the lives of hundreds of people every Sunday. An act of service should be seen as an act of sacrifice, no matter how small. I think more often it is looked at as just one more thing to get done. No thought, no prayer, no joy.
So all this to say. The Celebration cups are cute and there may be a place for them on our next camping trip or retreat, but let's leave Sunday morning as is. No convenience, no quick fix. Just a simple act of service to remind us of the ultimate sacrifice to bring us to a place of stillness. That is my vote.

Too much instruction...

I interviewed a guy in LA in early February who made the statement that in the US we get a lot of instruction. More so than anywhere else in the world. I chuckled in agreement and didn't really give it that much more thought until I was cutting up the audio and heard it again. In the following days, I became keenly aware of how much instruction we are given. personally, I hear a fair amount of instruction at work about projects and various activities that need to be completed. I hear a lot of instruction at home, (I need to be careful here), about what needs to be done and how to do it. I even hear a lot of instruction at church about how to worship, how to pray, how to study, etc. I even hear instruction about how we don't need instruction and then instructions on how to be free from instructions, I am not kidding about this. I then made a terrifying realization. I give a lot of instruction. Mostly in regards to Mar and Abby, but man do I give a lot of instructions. I always wondered why people seem to be thinking less and less for themselves and seem to be more dependant on others for direction and guidance. Apparently we have worked ourselves into a mentally dependant state where we can't function without instruction. Well, if change begins with me, then here goes. No more instructions. I guess you will have to figure out what to do with this information yourself. I hope it goes well.

Bad Queen or Queen Company: A musical review

I am sitting in bed with my laptop, (something I am not supposed to do). Mar is asleep beside me. I just returned home from the Rose Garden. I took my buddy, JT to the Queen show tonight.
It was interesting. Now, the show was technically titled Queen + Paul Rodgers. Based on reviews, I figured this meant that Paul Rodgers would basically be fronting the band Queen and singing all of Freddie Mercury's astonishing vocal lines while keeping true to himself and not desecrating the musical prowess that is Queen. I was half right. Paul did a fabulous job in fronting the legendary Queen and while not trying to imitate Freddie in any way, did an amazing job of adding his own brand of vocal talents to songs that are recognized the world over.
But then something weird happened. A song started that I didn't instantly recognize. An intro was played, a verse and a chorus was sung and although I was singing and knew the tune, I couldn't figure out what song it was. In my head I was running the entire Queen catalog and then it hit me...this isn't a Queen tune.
Instantly, I was transported to a Bad Company show. I didn't expect that. Now don't get me wrong, the boys of Queen did a fantastic job of covering some Bad Company tunes. I am just not sure why. Before the show, I fugred this would probably be a Van Hagar scenario. Van Halen songs for 45 minute, 2 Hagar songs right in the middle with an acoustic and back to 45 more minutes of Van Halen in all if it's Jack Daniels induced glory.
Not this show. I mean, in the moment that for me defined, "What the Hell was that?", right after the verse of "We will Rock you", when every self respecting rocker knows that the piano intro of "We are the Champions", is coming in deafening silence, they broke out into a Bad Company song. I was so shocked I can't for the life of me remember what song it was. I was completely blindsided by a musical 2x4 right to the melon.
This musical confusion, coupled with the three teenage boys, (two of which were 250lbs +) splitting two beers that one of the boys father had purchased for them and the two drunk chicks, one of whom I used to work with, next to us who had to pee every other song made for an interesting night.
Oddly enough, I am glad I went. The music was good, regardless of which band I was listening to. I can actually cross two classic bands off of my list of must sees and it is always good to hang with a buddy. I especially enjoy hanging with JT because we don't have to chit chat. I seriously don't think we said five words to each other the entire show, (and I didn't come home worried that he was mad at me or wondering if I had done something wrong. Women, take note).
All this to say, if you get the chance to see this show, check it out. Don't be too surprised when you realize the song that is being sung has never been recorded by Queen, or that the other songs in the set have never been recorded by Bad Company. Just go with it and don't get locked into a screaming conversation about how it is all right that drunk chick has to go to the bathroom again.

Book Review, Home Town Tales...

For those of you who do not know me personally, I have a very short attention span. There are many contributing factors, most of which I probably shouldn't go into here.
Anyway, because of this, it is very hard for me to read books. I get distracted and bored. A book that takes my wife a weekend to complete will very likely take several weeks for me to get through. In spite of the afore mentioned condition, I have found a book that I love. It is called, "Home Town Tales" written by a man named Phillip Gulley.
Now I have to be honest. When I found this book, I was not really looking for it. I just got a new job in February and it was sitting in the bathroom as a time passer I guess. I have never really understood the point of books in the bathroom. I mean, please, you're not fooling anyone. We all know what you are doing in there.
Back to the point. This is a book written by a man just recapping stories from his life. The great thing is, this is a collection of stories about real people really living life. There is no great mystery other than where did the time go when folks were simple and full of integrity and a love for Jesus. Not the kind of love that you had to talk about and explain, but the kind that just showed itself in what you did. Today, people like to explain too many things. They want to instruct you.
Well, I have never done a book review here, and I don't think this was a great review but it is a great book. Simple stories about how Jesus Christ changes us not in grand fashion for all the world to see, but one penny at a time and sometimes in the midst of a haircut.
If that last statement doesn't make any sense, go read the book. You really won't be the same. Thanks Phillip!

She's the greatest...

This morning, I realized how big my little girl is getting. She woke up, fed and watered the dogs, and asked Mar if she could make her lunch today before she went to work. While Mar was getting ready, I was laying in bed and could hear her moving around in the kitchen, packing her lunch. It brought a smile to my face. Then when she returned, she tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a breakfast sandwhich on a paper plate. "Here Daddy. I made you breakfast for bed. I made myself one to, so we could have breakfast together. How do you like that?"



I like that a lot.