Saturday, March 23, 2013

Holy Week

Pastor Esget writes briefly about why this week is different from all other weeks of the year.  This week is everything.  (And for somebody who's still fighting off the colds that have been passed all over this winter, I really don't want to lose my voice this week, of all weeks!) 

Go read the article.  But don't skim it; let it soak in.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Don't Tell Me There's Gotta Be "More" Than "Just" the Absolution

And here's why:

Sin wrecked everything.
Therefore the forgiveness of sins fixes everything.

-- an excerpt from tonight's sermon

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Oh, Those Brits

You know you've been watching too much BBC when an American character shows up in Downton Abbey, and you begin puzzling to yourself, "Hmmm, that sounds odd.  Where have I heard that accent before?"

Monday, March 18, 2013

Those Pronouns

Nearly-two-year-old Zoe was listening to a book that my mom bought once-upon-a-time for my kids.  It's sung to the tune of Jingle Bells, and the last line of each half-verse is "Jesus is with me."  I had just sung the book to Alia, and when I paused, she had supplied missing words.  As Zoe is just learning to talk in the last few weeks, when she requested a repeat of the book I didn't leave her words like "bus" or "train" or "sled."  Instead, I stopped with "Jesus is with ...."  I knew she was well-familiar with the word "me" because, when asked to identify people in the family, she would point to everyone else and state their names, but point to herself and state "me."

When faced with "Jesus is with ..." the poor child was stymied.  As a couple of seconds passed, I wondered what the delay was.  She finally decided.  "You," she said. 

Wow.  That kid understands pronouns much better than she's supposed to at this age!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Rethinking What It Is To "Be Nice"

At work I am a hypocrite.  A shell.  A faker.  My co-workers really don't know me.  Hey, I'm supposed to "act professional" ... which isn't me.  I have to put on a show at work.   So I watch what I say and don't talk as much as some of the others.  They know I'm an oddball, they know I have a voodoo fondness for curing illness with garlic, they know I homeschool and have a garden and don't go out for lunch, but they have no idea just how un-mainstream I am. 

So it always surprises me when Gary goes to the bank to take care of some business and meets people I've worked with, and comes home with reports of just how nice I am.  My first reaction is usually, "How would they know whether I'm nice?" (especially if it's somebody I worked with only a day or two).  But then I realize: they think I'm nice because I let them talk. 

Really?  That's all it takes for somebody to think you're super-nice?