Blogroll

A few of you have asked what other blogs I read.  Well, here ya go....how 'bout a drum roll for the blog roll?

Friends, or uncatalogued blogs

Caleb & Amanda

Open Mouth, Insert Fork

Evelyn's Blog (Taste of Gourmet, local restaurateur)

The Power of the Pen (written by a very good friend)

Things Rattling Around in my Head

Southern Lagniappe

Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Medical/EMS blogs (content not limited to medical, includes politics too)

A Day in The Life of an Ambulance Driver

Street Watch: Notes of a Paramedic

Ten out of Ten (ER Doctor)

Confessions of a Street Pharmacist

Blogs I'm just starting to read (authored by medical folks, but commentary may include political/social issues)

Musings of a Highly Trained Monkey

Lost on the Floor

EDNurseasauras

Pink, Warm, and Dry

LPN with an M-16

9-Echo-1

Dr. Wes

Dani's Anatomy

New Nurse Insanity

Notes from Mosquito Hill

Project 365/6

Nice Delta sunset on the drive home from meetings in Jackson.
---Blackberry in use---

Project 365/5

Carnival Season starts the 12th day after Christmas, and that's tomorrow!  I love having fun with these few weeks leading up to Mardi Gras.  I'll be making a King Cake or two this week, hopefully the first of several this season.  Wonder who'll get the baby?

Filters...

Just a minor rant, again about the US Postal Service...

On both my personal and work emails, I have a host of filters set up that automatically route and file away routine emails that I get so that I may read them later.  For some emails like automated bill notifications and payment receipts, it just makes a lot more sense to have the system do the filing than for me to have to read each and every one.  Additonally, my email providers do a great job at capturing spam email.  Like my filtered emails, the spam goes into a folder that I can look at later to see if anything important got caught.

What I'd really, really like to have is a similar way to filter the real mail that arrives in my real mailbox in front of my house.  Wouldn't it be nice to have everything addressed to "Resident" or "Our Neighbors" or some similar, impersonal moniker to be discreetly deposited into some trash bin?  Weekly advertisements to stores that I do not patronize, once- or twice-a-month auto sales advertisements that seemingly scream as loud as the salesmen on television, or the one I got today addressed to "resident" from some church in Tulsa, Oklahoma?  Come on folks, do you REALLY think that some single guy, who's name you do not know, in a small Mississippi Delta town hundreds of miles away, was waiting for your offer for a "blessed-by-prayer Bible Faith Cross of Prosperity?"  Yeah, I'm sure it can be source of great spiritual, physical, and financial blessing to me, if I simply return the enclosed postcard and a small donation to your church.  Not only did they offer the cross, but on the reply card, they ask me to check if I need prayer for:

• My finances
• Finding a new job
• My blood pressure
• Me to receive a continuous money blessing
• Or just because I'm worried

I've searched the US Postal Service's website high and low for some way to ask them to stop delivering mail to "Resident", becuase no one by that name lives here.  But then again, we're talking about a financially insolvent government "business" that has to maintain some degree of relevance.  I assume their job now is to deliver a hard-copy version of what my email filters do a great job screening for me.

Project 365/4

Snow!!!  We got a dusting of snow this morning.  Although the sun popped out later this afternoon, temperatures never rose above freezing.  They're forecasting more in a few days, along with some extreme cold temperatures (at least for the Deep South)!  Bundle up, folks...

Project 365/3

A new year, and a great time to clean out the desk and file away old dead trees...
---Blackberry in use---

Notes from a Funeral, Part 2

Just a quick note on my grandmother's funeral last week....

They tried to attribute the original idea to me, but it was my mother and her sister that first came up with the idea of playing "When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder" for the recessional after the funeral.  I loved the idea, but they tried changing their minds.   No such luck, I stuck it in the order of service since I'd been appointed to craft it.

If you've read my previous postings about funerals, La Danse Macabre and Notes From a Funeral, you're aware that I possess a distinct view of death and the rituals associated with it. 

My grandmother had a dry wit, often times not readily apparent.  But it would sneak out occasionally.  I'm sure she found a degree of humor in her funeral, especially in the selection of the recessional music.  But what better words as the family walks behind the casket of a loved one?

The song was written by a Methodist Sunday School teacher, James Black, in 1893.  He was calling the Sunday School roll one morning, and a young girl, the daughter of a drunkard, wasn't in attendance.  Obviously disappointed, Black commented, "Well, I trust when the roll is called up yonder, she'll be there."

When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound, and time shall be no more,
And the morning breaks, eternal, bright and fair;
When the saved of earth shall gather over on the other shore,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

On that bright and cloudless morning when the dead in Christ shall rise,
And the glory of His resurrection share;
When His chosen ones shall gather to their home beyond the skies,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

Let us labor for the Master from the dawn till setting sun,
Let us talk of all His wondrous love and care;
Then when all of life is over, and our work on earth is done,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.

Project 365/2

Jay and I were in Carrollton for a little while today, and had to stop by the location of one of our geocaches that needed some maintenance.

It's located at an open-air pavillion known locally as "The Tabernacle." The tabernacle is jointly operated and maintained by the churches in town. In the past, it has been used for a wide variety of community events - revivals, graduations, community worship services, etc. It's just a wooden frame pavillion, but it's a piece history that's part of my childhood.

Project 365/1 (and a half)

Today I'm starting a Project 365.  What is that?  Well, quite simply, its a way to photo-document a slice of my life each day of the year.  Not just the big stuff, but also the mundane, little things that we sometime overlook each day.  I figure that at this time next year, it will be a fun and enlightening review of 2010.

So for my Project 365 Part 1 (365/1) I picked the two most important people in my day-to-day life.  First, my mini-me - my son.  And as a freebie on Day 1, a picture of me and Therapist.  These two people keep me grounded and sane.  These pictures were taken this evening while shooting fireworks in the freezing cold!  But nothing like fireworks on New Years.  Explosives are fun, anytime of the year.  We were near Carmack, MS, where Therapist grew up.  Her folks (and that includes uncles/aunts/cousins) all live out there, and have a lake that is great for shooting fireworks over.

I hope you enjoy this little peek into my world.  There's no telling what images may be in store for this year, but it should be a fun project.

Looking Back...

I started working on this post a good while back, as a way to take stock of my year.  It has been quite an interesting one, and a busy one too.  Thanks to some cool technology, this entry will post itself as I celebrate the coming new year with a very lovely woman.  We're at a New Year's Eve party, having a great time in our formal wear.

This year has been a roller coaster of emotions and activities.  I've lost, but yet I've gained too.

Some of the highlights:

• The rare opportunity to hold in my hands several bacteria that have caused widespread plagues in history -  Anthrax, Plague, Tularemia, and others
• Jumping off a perfectly fine building, supported only by a half-inch of rope....all for fun training
• Training on United States nuclear bomb test ranges in the high Nevada desert
• Accompanying 6th Graders on their annual field trip to Chattanooga.  That should be something that EVERYONE should do.
• Enjoyed a relaxing week on the Alabama beaches in July.
• Road trip to Houston, Texas, for work.  We drove instead of flying, and that was fun.

Interspersed between all those things, though, I went through a lot of change.  Most notably, I became single.  It wasn't what I'd wanted, but it is what it is and I cannot change that.  Second to that, I've lost two-thirds of my grandparents this year.  In that, I've seen the depth of my mother's strength.  I've lost one parent; I cannot imagine the loss of two in a six-month time frame.

Between the highs and lows, I've had the rare opportunity to experience what it means to be loved by friends.  In this year, about a dozen people have stepped forward to lend or reaffirm their friendships with me, and for them I am eternally thankful.  Within that group, there is one star that shines brightest - and she is my date tonight as we celebrate the passing of this old year.  She's teaching me how deep a close relationship can be.  I'm not the best student in that regard; thankfully she is a patient, caring person.  I've written about her, and I've written about her parents, who I'm also thankful to count as new friends this year.

So come, new year.  Come, invite us to new opportunities, new horizons, and new experiences.  I pray that we take full advantage of the clean slate offered to us.

Personae non Gratae

Persona non grata - in Latin literally means "person not welcome."  (this post's title is in plural)

Weeks ago I started writing a blog about friendships, and how I've been astounded lately at the number of "friends" who have completely distanced themselves from me through this past year.  Initially, I didn't think much about it.  People didn't know how to react, or what to say.  That is understandable.  However, as I sat and read what I'd written, I decided it wasn't fit for publication, and deleted it.

But now, I've painfully observed that I wasn't the only person who has become invisible to a host of "friends" that we shared.  Therapist, too, has been ostracized just as much - and probably more in some ways.

Up until now - tonight - I've brushed it off silently, thinking that time heals wounds and friendships will heal.  I believe I am wrong.  I've seen good Christian men and women, people who just a year ago were smiling, kind, "happy to see you" type people, become absolute strangers.  Outside of the church setting, they're happy to do business with you, or talk about kids or school or sports.  But inside church settings....no no no, we can't associate with Jim and Sonya.  I don't know what their mindset is, but it smacks of hypocrisy and just downright stinks!  Certainly, there are those saints who look beyond the surface, and know that we're just regular people trying to rebuild our lives.  They offer true, kind words.  And for them, I am deeply thankful.  For those who treat us as ghosts, vapors, personae non gratae.....I pray for you.  I try deeply to not hold any contempt in my soul, for that gives Satan a foothold and he has no place with me.

I don't normally vent in such a public, open forum.  But tonight, we - at the last minute - decided to not attend our church's informal Christmas caroling party tonight.  Why?  Because we're not sure we even want to be in close quarters with those same people who can't find time to speak to us on Sunday mornings.  That, my friends, has affected MY WORSHIP!

To all those who even think I'm referring to you, if you have to wonder, then I may be talking to you.  My feelings for you and our friendship have not changed.  I'm always available to you, to support you, to help you in any way that I can.  I just ask that you open your own eyes to see where we stand.

What is a Boy?

Note:  This was originally written in 1949, and I stumbled across it on the net this morning.

What Is a Boy?
By Alan Beck

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.

When you are busy a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy of a pocket-size atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a fire cracker, and when he makes something he has five thumbs on each hand.

He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings and fire engines.

He is not much for Sunday school, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.

Nobody else is so early to rise or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket-a rusty knife, a half eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a sling shot, a chunk of unknown substance and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind.

Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master–a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise.

But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams—he can mend them like new with the two magic words—”Hi Dad!

Bring What Gift?

Come, they told me; a new born King to see.
Our finest gifts we bring, to lay before the King.
So to honor Him...

Little Baby, I am a poor boy too.
I have no gift to bring, that's fit to give the King.
Shall I play for you, on my drum?

Mary nodded, the ox and lamb kept time
I played my drum for Him; I played my best for Him!
Then, He smiled at me....me and my drum...

Christmas isn't Christmas without the giving of gifts.  I was taught that we give gifts as a way to demonstrate THE gift that was given to us through Christ.  But what can we give Him? 

The proverbial drummer boy in the song was invited to bring gifts to the new King.  Others were bringing their "finest gifts" to lay before the King.  Our mind's eye is drawn to the story of the Wise Men from the East, bringing gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  There is even legend surrounding those gifts, chosen to represent the newborn King's royalty (gold), priesthood (frankincense), and his eventual suffering and death (myrrh was used both as a wound-healing agent, and a perfume of embalming by Egyptians).

But our little drummer boy had nothing "fit to give a King."  One can almost imagine a young lad, anxious and excited to be included in this traveling band of gift-bearers on their way to worship the King of Kings.  Yet through the excitement, the boy becomes disheartened when he realized he's got nothing worthy of a King's attention.  Taking a quick look around his room, he spies his small drum.  "I can play for him!" he muses.

The story quickly shifts to the scene of a still-infant Jesus, together with Mary, receiving the "finest gifts" being brought.  Mary approves, the little drummer boy can play on his drum.  Our boy steps forward, holding a big deep breath and with weak knees, strikes his drum.  He played, and played his "best for Him", on his drum.

Oh but then the gift of all gifts, Jesus - the KING of Kings - smiled.  Out of all the gifts, Jesus' smile was reserved for the young lad who brought the only thing he had worthy of this King - he brought himself and his talent.

What do we bring this Christmas?  What do we give each other?  What do we give OUR KING?  Do we offer "stuff"?  Do we check off our list...Lottie Moon, tithes, charity donations, church building projects,...or do we just simply offer the one and only thing Jesus really wants?  That being ourselves, completely, totally given to Him?  He accepts us, just like the drummer boy, just as we come to him.

Merry Christmas.

Makes you wonder...

Brought to you, free of charge, so that you may ponder....and ponder....and ponder, yet again, how some people in this life actually manage to function in society.  Click the image to make it larger if you can't read it on your monitor.

Some Christmas Fun...

I hope you enjoy this little video for Christmas.  To me, Christmas is about laughter and joy.  People often ask what I'd like for Christmas, and to be honest, all I want is to make people laugh and be happy.

Enjoy.  And MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Have Thanks

The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings! ~Henry Ward Beecher

Amen!

Future EMT's

These are our EMT students for this fall. Each class gets one night out with a local fire department to learn about automobile extrication and rescue. Tonight's class also got to be up close and personal with the crew from AirEvac 87 out of Greenville, MS.

Dating...

I am dating. And I am happy.

I am dating a young Attala County native, the second of two very intelligent children in the family of a bi-vocational Baptist minister and a homemaker librarian wife. (I stand corrected by Mrs. Armstrong herself!  I "cleared" this blog post through Sonya, and she missed this little error.  11/15/09)

Sonya Joy Armstrong Terrell hails from the Carmack community, between Vaiden and Kosciusko.

Her parents, Curtis "Mickey" and Carolyn, are absolutely wonderful people. Both natives of Attala County, neither strayed far from their roots. They are as kind, gentle, and quiet as you would expect rural Mississippi hill-folks to be, much like those I grew up around in Carrollton. After being reared mostly by his grandparents, Mr. Armstrong spent many years dividing his time as a public school teacher and a Baptist minister. He knows some of my kinfolks on the Whitfield side of the family, and describes them as "good, good people". He taught one of my uncles way back when at Zama, MS. Mrs. Armstrong, as was the "norm" in their day, stayed home with Sonya and her older brother, Duane. The previous allusion to intelligent children is personified in Duane, who is literally a NASA rocket scientist, currently working in the Stennis Space Center in south Mississippi.

Sonya is no less bright, holding two degrees, a bachelor's in elementary education from Mississippi State University, and a bachelor's in physical therapy from the University of Mississippi. She loves her work as a physical therapist at an Indianola nursing home. It is a joy to hear her talk about her daily work and interaction with the patients.

Four children, Mikalya who will soon be 14; Jay who is 12; Kelli who is 9; and Reed who is 6, make things quite fun, entertaining, and interesting around Sonya's house every other week.

Some don't think that this relationship is best for me. While time will certainly tell, I disagree with their assessment. I have a very good friend, and I just happen to be dating her. I enjoy the frequent long talks we have. While they often involve complex topics, rarely to they become emotional. Instead, we are able to climb up onto an intellectual level and openly talk about anything. We agree a lot. Occasionally we don't, and we respect that. Our relationship is grounded in two basic "rules"; 1) Our relationship will not interfere with or jeopardize our friendship. Friends first, and always; and 2) Our relationship will not interfere with our roles as parents to our respective children. If at any time we feel that we're encroaching on the spirit of these conditions, we call a time-out, voice each of our concerns, and come to a mutual decision. For the majority of the time, whenever a "time-out" is called, it isn't because of what the other person did or didn't do. Most often, it is because we've individually seen something within ourselves that we felt was violating our rules, and we want to address it.

I have an awesome respect for this mother of four. She orchestrates every moment from coming home, to homework, to supper, to showers, to bedtime with amazing skill. Add in seasonal sports activities for all four, sometimes occurring simultaneously, and it is quite a show. Certainly, herding four children isn't always easy. But she seems to do it with poise and grace.

I've mentioned her parents already. They are a delight. Quiet, humble, trustworthy people. They've seen their daughter go through a lot in the past 2 years. But they've done it with the understanding that she is her own person, and one that they can trust. I enjoy getting to visit with them. All four of us have had some very deep, personal talks.

I could go on, but these are just some thoughts that have been begging to get out of my head into the open for a while.

I'm dating. I am happy.

Just some foolishness...

First, many thanks to my good friend and physician for the round of decadron to kick-start the weekend.



We just had a plain-ole good time! How can you not, when you're running with a group of teens and near-teens?

I can safely say that for the first time in my LIFE, I didn't mind getting my yard rolled. (Even more fun is I know who did it!!! Payback..... )

Just not feeling it....

10:15am, 10/29/09

My body is sick.  My head, my throat, my lungs are sore.  I am tired.  I'm sitting at work, debating whether to go home or at least stick it out through lunch.  I can feel my pulse in my ears, my eyes are halfway closed.

At least here at the office there is light, and people to interact with.  Home is dark, and no one is there to talk to.

So do I sit here and feel bad, in the light, and with people around?  Or do I go home, and sit, where it is dark and quiet?  Neither option presents a good outcome.  Staying here at work means I'll just be more tired later.  Going home to an empty house means looking at four walls and listening to a TV make noise about nothing.

Is my joy slipping, or is this temporary disease robbing me of passion? 

My body is sick.  My mind is numb and disengaged.  I have two books I want to read.  I started trying to read them both, but I'm not connecting with them for some reason.

I almost became angry this morning, angry with a woman that I love.  I did not apologize.  I will.  The anger arose from somewhere within the darkness of this passing illness, and my tired mind.  I did not apologize.  I will.

I'm going home.

Monday....

Have you ever wished you could call a "do-over" some days? Today was that day for me!

I'd had an absolutely wonderful weekend with Therapist...lots of time spent out & about in some beautiful weather, seeing sights, doing a little window shopping, some car shopping...just stuff. Movies and a fireplace...dinners out around town....

But then,

Monday came. Monday wasn't happy. Monday killed the battery in my beloved Titan, so it was an early task to get it fired back up. Not long thereafter, the headache came. Not a localized one like sinus...no that would be too easy to figure out and treat. Several handfuls of medications throughout the day barely took the edge off of it. More insult added about mid-morning with the development of a nice dry, fairly deep cough, and a sore throat. Oh yea, and I wound up wearing some of my coffee. Nice brown dots on my neat khaki work pants. Yippie!

Therapist, in her normally cheerful way, sensed that a bit of entertainment would do me some good. So after another handful of meds, she and the crew picked me up to attend two simultaneous soccer games. Children #3 and #4 were playing at the same time, thankfully on opposite sides of the same park. The outing did take my mind away from the day's troubles.

Oh but the coup de grâce du jour was silently waiting in my kitchen, ready to spring its covert attack on me....the 8pm discovery that my handy-dandy self-timed coffee pot was D-E-A-D!!! AAAARrrrrrgggghhhhhhhhh!

For all the times I've both openly and quietly cursed our local Wal-Mart, I was glad to know they were still open.....

Now, maybe a fresh cup of coffee on Tuesday morning will help.....

Surprise worship...

I love it when a moment of worship just sneaks up on me from out of nowhere...like it did when I saw these kids' video this morning.....WOW!!!!!

A digital reprint...

I'm swiping this from a Facebook friend, Jeff Billingsley. Jeff is a police officer for the Memphis International Airport. He became a Christian after being shot during a traffic stop in Memphis a few years ago. His salvation story is very strong...he remembers waking up in the hospital to see a police chaplain walking into the room and presenting the plan of salvation to him. To this day he does not remember her name.

This blog post of his comes from Badges that Care. I'm shamelessly reprinting it here, with full credit to Jeff. The original is can be found here. I've added extra emphasis in some areas, and a link to order the book he's referring to. You may have to read this a couple of times to let it soak in.

PRAISE - A glimpse of the gift of His grace in our lives, 10.21.09 by Jeff

from Badges that Care by Jeff Billingsley

I hope you're having an absolutely great day. I talked to some friends that are missionaries in Cambodia this morning and they had already dealt with Wednesday and assured me that it was a great day. As I'm typing this it is around 7pm in Memphis on Wednesday and it is 7am on Thursday in Cambodia. They are exactly 12 hours ahead of us. My friends were right. It was a great day. Have you ever had God tell you to do something? Tonight is one of those nights for me. I need to be asleep. I was in in-service training today and have to work tonight. I went to sleep at a fairly decent time and laid there. And laid there. And laid there some more. I've been busy doing the workout plan and haven't added anything to the website in a week or so. I had planned to do add some things tonight but over and over He told me to write about my grace experience and not wait until tonight. Sleep isn't gonna happen until I am obedient and do what He says and most especially when He says He wants it done.

I was talking to a firefighter online a couple of days ago and mentioned our group to him. His response was both the funniest thing I have heard in a while and also the saddest. "Oh no Jeff, I'm not good enough for that." Good enough? I asked him to explain what he meant about that. For the next two minutes he shared a laundry list of issues that he is dealing with or has dealt with in his life. As I mentally compared my life to his list, we weren't that different. Divorce, unhappiness, a critical spirit, etc. His statement was funny to me because for years I didn't see much "good" about Jeff. Yeah, there were good parts that I was quite thankful for but those negatives that I have worked on always seemed to take center stage in my life. If there was a country made up of dufuses in this world, I would have a pretty good shot at being their prime minister. It was one of the saddest things I've heard in a while because my dear friend hadn't truly learned about God's grace and mercy. Forget what I did on October 21, 2009, because of the sin of Adam, I arrived in San Pablo CA in March of 1968 a sinner. His commandments are incredible. Read each one. Yeah, you may be able to obey a few on your own, but all of them? Never. It's not gonna happen. We are fallen people in a fallen world. The stench of sin is all over us. I really think they are designed to be impossible to completely obey by design. To teach us that we cannot obey all that He commands on our own and to illuminate in no uncertain terms our incredible need for Jesus. How much does God love us? He gave His Son for my sins and yours. Before the universe was spoken into existence He planned my life and He planned your life. And He planned the means for a living sacrifice for our sins, the death and resurrection of Jesus. So before I even arrived He knew I would need a Savior. How amazing and wonderful is that! I don't have the words to relate. I don't have any kids of my own but I claim quite a few nephews and I can tell you that given the decision to give up one of my nephews to be sacrificed for people I didn't know who would sin some more just doesn't seem like something I would volunteer my nephews to do. And most certainly not as freely as God gave His son for me. I and the rest of us could learn some more about obedence from Abraham's faith when God told him to sacrifice his son. As I have started reading my Bible much much more lately I've seen example, example, and example of His great faithfulness. He told Abraham that he would have a son in his old age and he did. God to him could do anything but fail. Abraham was a believer.

I love to read and one of the books I've thoroughly enjoyed recently was "The Ragamuffin Gospel." It's an incredible book. You can imagine that ragamuffins don't exactly have their act together. It opened up my faith to, as my pastor would say, "a whole nutha level." He loves us just as we are. Have you noticed that many churches sing the song "Just as I am" during the invitation. We say yes to the invitation and then put God in our God-sized box. It is one of the more honest books you will read about hurting people and the churches response to them as a whole. "The institutional church has become a wounder of the healers rather than a healer of the wounded" is a sad commentary on the McDonald's drive thru experience that most people have with their hurts and the churches response to them. "Put bluntly, the American church today accepts grace in theory but denies it in practice." "Personal responsibility has replaced personal response. We talk about acquiring virtue as if it were a skill that can be attained, like good handwriting or a well-grooved golf swing." "Sooner or later we are confronted with the painful truth of our inadequacy and insufficiency. Our security and our bootstraps are cut. Once the fervor has passed, weakness and infidelity appear. We discover our inability to add even a single inch to our spiritual stature." "There begins a long winter of discontent that eventually flowers into gloom, pessimism, and a subtle despair - subtle because it goes unrecognized, unnoticed, and therefore unchallenged. It takes the form of boredom, drudgery. We are overcome by the ordinariness of life, by daily duties done over and over again (another day, another dollar, is it Wednesday or Friday yet?) We secretly admit that the call of Jesus is too demanding, that surrender to the Spirit beyond our reach. We start acting like everyone else. Life takes on a joyless, empty quality." "Our huffing and puffing to impress God, our scrambling for brownie points, our thrashing about trying to fix ourselves while hiding our pettiness and wallowing in guilt are nauseating to God and a flat out denial of the gospel of grace." I have never quoted someone that much (many thanks to Brennan Manning, the author. His words not mine, expect for the another dollar statement.) You utterly cannot do this by yourself and any attempt will lead you completely depleted in so many ways. God's grace is His simple but incredible statement that you are ACCEPTED! Not because of what you have done, who you were kin to, or who you are. Rather, grace is based on who's you are. Son or daughter of the Most High King. Now that's a connection! Just as surely as Jesus had meals with tax collectors and the lowest of the socio-economic ladder, my precious friend is ACCEPTED, WORTHY OF HIS GRACE, and WELCOMED HERE WITH OPEN ARMS.

For years I have been critical of myself. Criticism? I don't need your criticism. I can beat myself up very well, thank you. And believe me, I know my flaws better then you do. But what did I do everytime I did that? Besides running through my self esteem with a John Deere bulldozer? I was making a big bold statement that God's work wasn't good enough in my life and in the end He made junk. He doesn't make junk. He made each of us unique. In a career field full of identical uniforms driving identical cars and enforcing identical laws, we kinda forget we are unique. God has a plan for my life and He gave me the tools to accomplish that. But how many times do we try and compare ourselves to others? When we do compare ourselves to others, when do we ever believe we are better? Very seldom. We look at others and see negatives in ourselves. We want to be like others. Only problem is if I tried to be another Michael Jordan (no worries about that happening), when it's all said and done, I'm still #2 to Michael Jordan instead of being the best (read that #1) Jeff Billingsley, lover of Jesus, lover of people, police officer that I can possibly be. I mentioned maybe a page or so of direct quotations but this book is 260+ pages long. It opened my eyes in so many ways. It starts with understanding that He accepts you. Just the way you are. And ya know He knows about flaws in me that I haven't noticed yet. Now knowing all of that He still loves ME! And He still loves YOU! Next we have to accept ourselves. And forgive ourselves. I forgive myself for being 5'10" instead of 6' 3". I forgive myself for this in my life. That in my life. Once it finally clicks and you understand that He accepts you just the way you are, it takes almost no effort to love Him. Praise comes out of your mouth just because. He can take away depression and despair from your life and replace it with peace and joy. I can tell you that He can do that because He has in my life. Not much has changed in my life in the last few months. I still work where I work. I still live where I live. I still look the same in the mirror. The change He brings to your life starts in your heart and trickles out to every part. That's so much better then what we all normally do for the most part -- wear the happy, "everything is fine" mask when you know good and well life isn't just fine. Below is the final Manning writing I'm gonna share with you. I make no apology for attempting to whet your appetite for a deeper understanding of His grace and ultimately a deeper love for Him. A deeper love for Him will transform your life and trickle down to your family, your co-workers, and the people that we have the priviledge of serving. Go over to Amazon and order it. Even the way I obtained this book just reeks of His incredible favor in my life. I had heard of it a few years ago. For some reason it never got on my radar screen. I saw it on the shelf of a Goodwill store while taking a friend from out of town on a Goodwill shopping expedition. It's one of the best $2.25 that I have ever spent on a book.

"We all have shadows and skeletons in our backgrounds. But listen, there is something bigger in this world than we are and that something bigger is full of grace and mercy, patience and ingenuity. The moment the focus of your life shifts from your badness to His goodness and the question becomes not "What have I done?" but "What can He do?" release from remorse can happen; miracle of miracles, you can forgive yourself because you are forgiven, accept yourself because you are accepted, and begin to start building up the very places you once tore down. There is grace to help in every time of trouble. That grace is the secret to being able to forgive ourselves. Trust it."
Brennen Manning, author of "The Ragamuffin Gospel."

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs.
Jonah 2:8, NIV (part of his prayer in the belly of the whale)

For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.
John 1:17, NIV

No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are."
Acts 15:11, NIV

My prayer for you is a simple one. I pray that you accept and forgive yourself. I pray you learn more about His incredible gift of grace to our lives and that it causes you to press in and love Him even more. I pray you let God out of YOUR God-sized box and pursue His greatest dreams for your life. He is a big God. Dream big dreams. Stay safe and thank you for all that you do for His people.

I'm now done with this writing and far from being tired because I didn't take my nap, I feel absolutely great. His gift of grace carries me.

With His GRACE and peace,
Jeff

Do it anyway...

Do It Anyway

People are often unreasonable, irrational and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you're successful, you'll win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere, people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, other could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.

It was never between you and them anyway.....

~ Mother Teresa

Little Finds...

This is for my buddy Angela and her blog of random stuff....

Jay and I went to Cleveland's Octoberfest this weekend, and I ran across these demitasse cups in a little junktique shop.

Now don't ask me why I bought them. Maybe it was the $6.95/set price tag I saw. Or maybe it was because I just thought they were neat. But I KNOW the final price of $4/set was what really caused the sale! I'll post a pic when I get the silver polished up.

They'll look good sitting somewhere in my house...

I have no ambition in this world but one...

This week has been National Fire Prevention Week, observed on the anniversary of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. On the Sunday that begins Fire Prevention Week, the National Fallen Firefighter's Foundation holds a solemn ceremony honoring the lives of firefighters who died in the previous year while on duty.

Tonight I was doing a little digging around the web, and ran across this old quote that was given to me a long time ago, that I have framed somewhere around here....and I just wanted to share it with you. Read it, and go thank your firefighters. If you live in a town with a full-time fire department, why not cook a small lunch meal for the guys one weekend and take by the nearest station.

“I have no ambition in this world but one, and that is to be a fireman. The position may, in the eyes of some, appear to be a lowly one; but we who know the work which the fireman has to do believe that his is a noble calling. There is an adage which says that, "Nothing can be destroyed except by fire." We strive to preserve from destruction the wealth of the world which is the product of the industry of men, necessary for the comfort of both the rich and the poor. We are defenders from fires of the art which has beautified the world, the product of the genius of men and the means of refinement of mankind. But, above all; our proudest endeavor is to save lives of men-the work of God Himself. Under the impulse of such thoughts, the nobility of the occupation thrills us and stimulates us to deeds of daring, even at the supreme sacrifice. Such considerations may not strike the average mind, but they are sufficient to fill to the limit our ambition in life and to make us serve the general purpose of human society.”

-- Chief Edward F. Croker FDNY circa 1910

IMG00240.jpg

Sunshine!!! There's hope!!!
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Go Read This....

As a blogger, I've been also reading blogs of others. I'm subscribed to a whole list of other people's blogs, and I enjoy the peek into their lives and their thoughts.

Tonight, I found a new one. Go read the October 7th entry on Journey Deeper into God's Word.

Just click the links. And feel free to subscribe to this guy's amazing blog!

Just remembering...

Today, October 4, the National Fallen Firefighter's Foundation will be honoring the lives of 122 firefighters who died in the line of duty in 2008. The Foundation is a non-profit organization that provides tremendous support to fire departments and surviving families through a variety of outreach programs. I've never been one to "push" a specific charity, but this one is near and dear to me, and I'd like to encourage you to visit their website and consider lending your support.

Most often, the surviving families of fallen firefighters include young or teenage children, and a wife or husband who is suddenly thrust into having to fulfill both roles at a relatively young age. Through the Foundation's Survivor Network, these families are linked to each other, and to survivors from previous years who lend a great deal of emotional and interpersonal support and sympathy. The Foundation also coordinates scholarships for surviving children.

Please visit the Foundation's website and consider a gift to support their work.

And thank the firefighters in your community...

My hometown...

This coming weekend, October 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, my hometown is throwing open its doors and inviting everyone to come join in celebrating Carroll County's 175th Anniversary.

The experiences of growing up in such a small town simply cannot be bought or replaced. Memories of enjoying honeysuckle on the walk to and from school, spending many afternoons at my granddad's grocery store across from the courthouse, hand-delivering groceries for his customers, catching lightning bugs, remembering my great-grandmother's garden and the fresh-picked vegetables she'd cook every day....we just don't get to enjoy that kind of life anymore. I remember occasional times when the town would be open for "pilgrimage" weekends, and I loved seeing all the new people coming in to tour what was simply home for me. I remember, too, the streets beside the courthouse being closed off for flea markets where I helped my dad cook food to sell, and him making leather products too...the evening mini-concerts and street-dances...wow those memories are as fresh as these words on my screen.

Come visit us! Carrollton's uniqueness is that it has been preserved, not restored. The houses and buildings that will be open for tour are all actively used. The court square will be buzzing with activities too. We'll be glad to show you around, and hopefully give you a taste (and maybe a longing) for a truly simple way of living, which is simply home for us.

Attutude...

By Chuck Swindoll

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. It will make or break a company.... a church....a home. The remarkable thing is that we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past....we cannot change the fact that people will act a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is rely on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you...we are in charge of our Attitudes."

A Rant...

You know I work for the government, and while the institution of government isn't known for its frugality, most everyone that I work with tries to be conservative when it comes to spending your tax dollars.

However, there are the occasional times when one is driven to contemplate how vast the government's reserves of extra cash must be, or how deep the depth of credit (debt) is.

Last week, I received a little postcard in the mail. It was from the United States Postal Service, and it was signed by Delores J. Killette, Vice President & Consumer Advocate. Ms. Killette was writing to inform me that she would soon be sending me a customer satisfaction survey, and emplored me to participate in the survey in order that the USPS could better service me. How nice, a piece of mail to tell me I would be getting more mail.

Well as expected, a few days later, the eagerly-awaited Customer Satisfaction Survey, complete with USPS logo and Ms Killette's signature arrived. My sheer joy was indescribable, as I'm not still yet certain whether I was happier in receiving the aforementioned mail, or in quickly and decisively placing it in the proper receptacle conveniently located beside my desk.

Now imagine the inexplicable degree of pleasure that was mine today as I opened my mailbox to find yet another postcard from Ms. Killette! If I didn't know better, I'd think she may secretly like me...three pieces of mail in a week's time? Therapist won't be too happy when she finds out I've been getting mail from Ms. Killette on such a regular basis. But alas, my ill-conceived fancies were dashed when I found that Ms. Killette was taking this occasion only to remind me that she had sent me the survey, and truly wished that I would return it forthwith.

So, being the good steward that I am of you tax dollars, I quickly retrieved the previously discarded survey from the waste receptacle, for I was now indeed curious! The Vice President and Consumer Advocate of the United States Postal Service had taken time out of her hectic schedule to mail me announcing the expectation of a survey, then she mailed me the survey, then mailed me yet a third time to tell me she had indeed sent the survey. Ahh but now my keen eye noticed a pattern here...something was amiss! I had carelessly discarded the first postcard, but the survey itself, and the second postcard contained a curious mark in the upper right corner. It says "PRESORTED FIRST-CLASS MAIL POSTAGE & FEES PAID USPS PERMIT NO. G-10." Did the U.S. Postal Service pay itself to send its own mail? Please tell me it didn't?!?!

On with the story... Enclosed in the survey envelope was, as expected, the survey and a reply envelope addressed to The Gallup Organization. Hmm, so the USPS has contracted Gallup to gather data about itself. But wait - this envelope is marked differently! It says "NO POSTAGE NECESSARY IF MAILED IN THE UNITED STATES," and in smaller print "POSTAGE WILL BE PAID BY THE UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE."

Now by my calculations, dear friends, for us mere mortals to send four pieces of mail would cost $1.76 in U.S. currency. And the Postal Service is asking me to tell them how I think they're doing??? They "paid themselves" to send mail - the only courier service in the United States that is authorized to deliver first-class mail to your mailbox paid themselves to do just that?

Well, here is my analysis:

• The Postal Service has a very unique business model. While other competitors in the parcel/package market (UPS, FedEx, DHL, etc) can guarantee you shipment on a a certain date, the USPS will only give you a range of possible delivery dates. Obviously, those who are shipping time-sensitive materials will naturally drift to the private carriers who offer timed delivery guarantees, even though at a higher price. Noting the flight of customers, the USPS responds not by assuring better delivery times...no...they instead raise their shipping rates on a regular basis to offset the decreased revenue. So for all you future business leaders out there, if your competitor is doing better than you are in the service market, don't worry, just raise your consumer pricing.
• I pay around $30 each month for internet service, including email access. I have around 300 contacts in my email address book, which means if I emailed every one of them once a month, it would cost me 10 cents per email, which is 34 cents cheaper than the old-fashioned, but often nostalgic letter-writing method of communicating. Naturally, I don't email all 300 people every month; there are probably 50 that I email occasionally, and of those, about 20 that probably get tired of getting emails from me. Although I haven't worked out the cost per email, it is still cheaper than the regular mail system, and I know almost instantly (or within a few hours for reply) that the email was delivered.
• I have my salary deposited electronically by my employer, thus saving postage in delivering my check to me. I also pay the vast majority of my bills electronically, thus saving postage for both the bill itself, and my payment reply mail. A double-savings, if you will. A result of this? I receive practically NO mail at my house, except for those completely unsolicited advertisements that seem to come weekly, offering to sell me things that I have no interest in. If I want to know about your product and/or service, I have the internet that I already mentioned.

If the Postal Service wishes to know how good of a job they're doing, why not take a look at the decline in use of the postal system for personal communications and time-sensitive business communications? Why not take a look at their business model? And since we're on a rant about government spending (how many of you got these same cards and letters from Ms. Killette?), why not just scrap the USPS completely? Take the annual USPS budget and subsidize internet access and email for everyone in the nation, complete with electronic banking and bill-paying? That would certainly cut down on the consumption of paper (environmentally friendly!), and would give our nation a boost of computer skills (as well as create a whole new job market for technical support hotlines.)

I'm sorry, but if you have to send me 3 pieces of mail to alert me to a survey, you're doing something wrong. And finally, the survey even has an option for me to go online to complete it! Why didn't Ms. Killette just say that in her first postcard??

**Note: I have two beloved relatives who are retired from the U.S. Postal Service, and this rant is in no way meant to disparage their many years of service. I remember those days, when stamps were 18 cents!**

An "un-cool" parent...

It seems that I have fallen from grace, and have reached the status of an "un-cool" parent, in as much as it involves my work.

Jay discovered a packet of our Healthy Habits/Healthy People handwashing brochures in my truck this weekend. He said, "so YOU'RE the one pushing all this handwashing junk we're having to do at school?!?!" He said there are handwashing posters and information practically everywhere at school, and the kids are almost fed up with the constant admonishments from their teachers to wash their hands.

I used to be the dad with the really cool job that no other dad in town has. Now I'm the bad guy that makes them wash their hands. Oh well….

Scars...

Inside my right wrist, about two inches down from the joint there's a small white scar. Its been there for well over thirty years, probably closer to thirty-five...from a dog bite when I was a kid. "Dooney" the family cocker-spaniel who was normally a happy, friendly dog, apparently didn't like me reaching for the tag on his collar, and he nipped me. It's amazing that a memory so old can still be as vivid...I can still hear myself crying and can remember all the blood, because there's a vein right under the scar. It's not that I recall that event every day, but when I do see the scar, which has nearly faded, it does bring back memories.

This weekend is the fourth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's assault on the Gulf Coast. Saturday morning I wrote to some friends these words: Time heals, memories fade, but hearts never forget...

This is probably the first year that I wasn't "down" for these days. Katrina drained a lot of us to the point of breaking. She decimated a land that we knew, and a way of life for thousands. Since that time, I've had the opportunity to deliver lectures on the emotional/psychological impact of major disasters for emergency responders. Each time I lectured, I wound up in a "funk" for several days after, all because of reliving those memories.

This year was different though, as the memories have started to fade, and time has started to heal. Along the way though, I pushed aside many close friends, and family. At the time, I didn't deal with the psychological traumas, and there are permanent scars to show from it. Time does heal though, but a scar remains.

Mark Twain said, "we should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it - and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove-lid again - and that is well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one anymore."

What does that mean? I'm not worried about dogs. I learned my lesson about how to interact with them. I'm also now more keenly aware that I'm not able to "fix" problems for anyone, and I need to take care of myself some. I fight off minor "funks" from time to time now, and they're only occasionally more than a passing problem. But that doesn't mean I'm going to turn a blind eye and walk away from issues. The cat in Twain's quote learned not to sit on a hot stove-lid, but she never tried to sit on a cold one either; educated, but not wise.

Ok it's 11:30 at night and I'm starting to wander....but I just wanted to get some stuff out of my head.

Time heals, memories fade, but hearts never forget.....

Reflection Fail

And we wonder why people are so easily led by our "trustworthy" national leaders?

Swine Flu Update

Novel H1N1 Influenza A

Key Points


• So far, this Novel H1N1 Influenza is of similar severity to seasonal influenza. As with seasonal influenza, there have been hospitalizations and deaths, but most people ill with this virus have recovered.

• However, the groups at highest risk for complications from this influenza are different than those we have seen every year from seasonal influenza.

o Pregnant women are at high risk of complications and death.
o Others with high risk include children under age 5 and people with diabetes, heart disease, asthma, and kidney disease.
o Unlike seasonal influenza:
 Those older than age 64 appear to be LESS LIKELY to acquire Novel H1N1 Influenza.
 Children and young adults (under age 25) are at increased risk.

• The Federal Government is working with manufacturers to make vaccine against the Novel H1N1 Influenza. Some vaccine for high risk groups is anticipated in October, with vaccine for the rest of the population to follow. Priority groups for vaccination are:

o Pregnant women
o Household contacts and caregivers for children younger than 6 months of age (to protect these children, who are too young to be vaccinated)
o Healthcare and emergency medical service workers (to protect vulnerable patients)
o All people from 6 months through 24 years of age
o People aged 25 through 64 who have health conditions associated with higher risk of medical complications from influenza.
 These include those with diabetes, heart disease, chronic lung disease (asthma or COPD), kidney disease, cancer, blood disorders, liver disease, people with weakened immune systems (including immunosuppression caused by medications or by HIV), and neurologic/neuromuscular (brain or spinal cord) disease or injury (including multiple sclerosis and muscular dystrophy).

• In addition to vaccine against the Novel H1N1 Influenza, vaccination to protect from regular seasonal influenza is recommended for the following groups:

o all children aged 6 months--4 years (59 months)
o children who are receiving long-term aspirin therapy and therefore might be at risk for experiencing Reye syndrome after influenza virus infection
o women who will be pregnant during the influenza season
o people aged 50 years and older
o people who have chronic pulmonary (including asthma and COPD), cardiovascular (except hypertension), kidney, liver, blood, neurologic/neuromuscular, or metabolic disorders (including diabetes mellitus), immunosuppression (including immunosuppression caused by medications or by human immunodeficiency virus)
o residents of nursing homes and other long-term care facilities
o health-care personnel
o household contacts and caregivers of children under age 5 and adults age 50 and older, with particular emphasis on vaccinating contacts of children less than 6 months of age
o household contacts and caregivers of people with medical conditions that put them at higher risk for severe complications from influenza

• Antiviral medications are effective against most cases of Novel H1N1 Influenza.

o The priority use for influenza antiviral drugs is to treat people hospitalized for influenza and those with influenza who have a medical condition that increases their risk of severe complications.
o It is important that these antiviral drugs not be used unnecessarily, since improper use could lead to the virus becoming resistant to these medications. This would be a problem for all of us, including those who took the medications unnecessarily.

• Take these steps to protect your health:

o Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it. If no tissue is available, cough or sneeze in your elbow.
o Wash your hands often with soap and warm water for 20 seconds, especially after you cough or sneeze. Alcohol-based hand cleaners are also effective.
o Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth. Germs spread this way.
o Try to avoid close contact with sick people.
o If you are sick with a flu-like illness, stay home until 24 hours after the fever is gone. This is to keep from infecting others and spreading the virus further.

Thinking...

After Hurricane Katrina, while envolved in an animated discussion about the adequacy of disaster plans, I developed Jim's Three Rules of Plans. They are:

1. All plans are hedged bets. We're silently betting the disaster won't be as bad as it could be.

2. All plans are based on the last, worst disaster.

3. We can't plan for what we can't imagine.

But, today I find myself in a meeting for yet more planning. The Three Rules will be amended soon. Ugh!

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Life's Storms

Today is the 40th Anniversary of the landfall of Hurricane Camille on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The "benchmark" storm for nearly four decades was hailed as the standard by which Mississippi prepared itself for future storms. In twelve days, we will mark another anniversary for another storm that, very traumatically, reminded us that we never know what lies ahead for us. That was Katrina's lesson - not to be stuck in the past, because we can't see what may be coming next.

For these next few days, I'm planning to post a series of pictures that I have from Katrina, some of the thoughts I recorded during my time on the coast, and some of my thoughts now. The time since Katrina is only one-tenth that since Camille, but we're forgetting some of the things we saw.

While I don't hope that you "enjoy" this series, I do hope it will give you pause, to be thankful for the blessings we have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy...and a prayer for those life-lessons yet to be learned.

A revisit...

I extracted this from an earlier post, The Masquerade. I was reading back through my blogs, and decided to re-post this segment.

Psalm 51

1 -3 Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record. Scrub away my guilt, soak out my sins in your laundry. I know how bad I've been; my sins are staring me down.

4 -6 You're the One I've violated, and you've seen it all, seen the full extent of my evil. You have all the facts before you; whatever you decide about me is fair. I've been out of step with you for a long time, in the wrong since before I was born. What you're after is truth from the inside out. Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

7 -15 Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don't look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don't throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails! Give me a job teaching rebels our ways so the lost can find their way home. Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God, and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways. Unbutton my lips, dear God; I'll let loose with your praise.

16 -17 Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice.

A Dichotomy...

Luke 6:31 (Amplified Bible)

³¹And as you would like and desire that men would do to you, do exactly so to them.

A curiosity: the dichotomy of the Golden Rule, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you".....

One the one hand, given the treatment I've received of late (gossip, meddling), does this Biblical exhortation grant me the right to return the favor to them?

Or, on the other hand, and more solemnly, is it an admonition for me to treat people with kindness and respect, regardless of what I receive?

Just thinking out loud...

Free Health Advice...

No need to thank me... I'm just giving this to you as a public service, because you will be asking me in a month or two....

Just a ramble...

I hope yall hang with me on this one, because it's going to be a slow ramble through my thoughts...

I'm typing this entry from one of two recently-resurrected computers that are sitting in my floor. The other one is getting a deep cleaning by some nosey anti-virus software to see why it runs so slowly. I feel like a budding computer nerd, as I've got these two desktops fired up, as well as my laptop, which I'm using at the moment to chat with some friends on Facebook. Ahh, multi-tasking at its finest! Both of these old computers were rescued from Therapist's house, under the threat of being given to the garbage man. Oh but no, there's no acceptable reason to waste good computers! They'll slowly gain new lives as servers here in my house, running background tasks and doing other behind-the-scenes work for me. I'm planning for one to feed a full-time webcam to a weather website so we can have a live "weathercam" in Indianola.

For all my guy friends...Take your favorite female to see the movie "The Ugly Truth." It is hilarious, and makes quite a nice date-night movie. You'll both laugh till you cry.

After a few "down" weeks lately, I'm starting to feel a bit more energized. Even though my mom's side of the family gathered last week for a funeral, it was good to see a lot of old friends, and long-time friends of the family. Life in the Hills is just plain different, and the people are too. Not that the Delta is "bad"...it's just a different way of life down here in the flatlands. I like them both, but it's nice to make that 45-minute drive home on occasion.

My son/sniper/budding football player has been in weight training most of the summer, and will have his first "real" practice session tomorrow for 7th grade football. He's looking forward to it, and I think he's going to have a lot of fun this year. I don't know how they construct their schedule, though...it seems there's only 2 home games this season. I guess there'll be lots of road-time.

These very mild summer temperatures have been a delight lately, and it gets me in the mood for some late-summer entertaining. Therapist has been working on her screened patio, turning it into what will be a relaxing place to enjoy some evenings outdoors, while outsmarting the mosquitos at the same time! I'm getting ready to start a monthly "movie night" at my house in a couple of weeks, and am looking forward to having friends over on a regular basis. The theme for August's movie night is going to be "Back To School," with some older movies from my school-days. A few friends, a little food, and a lot of fun...what a great combination!

Notes from a Funeral

Back a few weeks ago I wrote a post called La Danse Macabre about how I'm intrigued by funeral traditions. It was written from an academic observer's point of view, as one who takes some interest in the social norms and traditions that we exercise when remembering loved ones.

Unfortunately this week, I had the occasion to be one of the principal participants in the funeral of my grandfather, who had become a defacto "dad" for me after my own father died when I was thirteen years old. However, I didn't lose sight of my passing interest in funeral traditions. I was torn between the loss, and "living" the experience, as opposed to simply observing.

So, while I'm listening to a New Orleans jazz band play a very slow "Just a Closer Walk with Thee" in the background, I give you "Notes from a Funeral"...a collection of random thoughts and observations from the week. (Note: Please forgive any appearance of irreverance...I just see death and funerals in a completely different way than most people do.)

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Grandaddy had the wisdom, good sense, and good manners to plan his own funeral, even down to the scriptures and songs. I liked that, and I know my grandmother, my mom, and my aunt appreciated it. When my dad died, we went to the funeral home to make all the arrangements while still dazed and suffering the initial shock of what had happened just 12 to 14 hours earlier. This week all we had to do was carry the burial clothes to the funeral home, and arrange the specific times for the visitation and service.

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FOOD - good Lord at the food! I swear I put on 10 pounds in 3 days. One of grandaddy's army buddies picked at me, told me the blackberry cobbler was bad for my figure. I told him I'd been eating fairly responsibly for about 10 months now, and it was high time I kicked that nasty habit. And some folks in my family just plain weren't raised right. Who in the south doesn't eat banana pudding? And what in the world is wrong with pickled beets yall? I've eaten half of that quart jar, and I'm putting good money on them being completely gone by the end of the week! What makes "funeral food" so good anyway? And why does it take all day to cook normal food, but within an hour of your loved one taking their last breath, half of town has just made fresh home-made bread, pies, and more banana pudding? I even scored a banana and peanut-butter sandwich one night, but I missed an opportunity for cornbread and milk. Guess I'll have to get mama to teach me how to make cornbread.

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A friend recently said if you want to pack the church at your funeral, die young. He was right, to a degree. You can also pack it after living 80 years and touching the lives of many, many people of all ages. Carrollton Baptist Church was standing-room only, and for all I know there might have been a few people left standing outside.

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Twice in my life, once in February 1985 and this week, I have:

• Held my mother's head against my chest as she wailed in emotional pain
• Shaken hands and hugged many, many good friends who know my family well
• Sat in the second pew of Carrollton Baptist, before an flag-draped oak casket and heard the gospel song "Precious Memories" echo from the plaster walls of that church
• Gathered with family around a table with old pictures and laughing at old stories

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My boy of 12 years of age observed that he thought our home town of 12,000 people was a "small town" until he realized that in Carrollton, you literally know EVERYBODY, as it seemed nearly all of them came by the house in 2 or 3 days' time.

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The J. Z. George High School class of 1963 almost had a reunion at my grandparent's house this weekend.

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I don't like seeing people hurt. I'm a "fixer" and I couldn't "fix" the hurt this week. My first words to my mom when I got home were "I know how it feels." She cried "I know you do." The emptiness that's left when a parent dies is completely indescribable, and the only way to have any sense of understanding of it requires that you experience it first-hand. The few times that my emotions broke this weekend weren't due to the loss, but from seeing my mother in that kind of pain...and not being able to do anything about it.

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My boy, who for better or worse looks a whole lot like me, wondered at the funeral home how so many people that he didn't know, knew who he was without asking.

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I took my son out to the cemetery so we could pick the specific grave in our family plot for grandaddy. That was a new experience for him.

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Did I mention the food? There's chocolate pie and banana pudding in my fridge in Indianola, too!

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I enjoyed the look on my son's face when, along with an older employee of the funeral home, described the not-so-long-ago ritual of "sitting up with the dead." Then later I found out that my own family had done that very thing with my late great-grandfather Oscie O. Lee in 1970. My great-grandmother directed that he would be brought back to the house for the viewing, and some of the relatives sat up with him. Mama told me that my grandmother even mentioned in passing to do the same for Grandaddy. Mom put a quick stop to that!

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I've read in other parts of the country, local law enforcement doesn't do as much to support funeral processions as we do here in the South. Yes, it is inconvenient for other drivers to be held up at intersections. But do you know how cool it is to be in the family vehicle as deputies stand at attention in every intersection, purely out of respect for the deceased? Our county sheriff personally led our procession.

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Firefighters really know how to make a funeral. White-shirted volunteers on both sides of the sidewalk outside the church, two engines in the procession, and a fleet of engines lining the road at the cemetery. The Fireman's Prayer read at the graveside, an alarm bell striking out a final alarm call....

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"On behalf of a grateful nation, this flag is presented to you as a token of appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service..."

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A Quick Thought....

There will be more coming soon in "Notes on a Funeral", but I wanted to share this one....

We find God right where and when we're looking for Him. At my grandfather's funeral yesterday, when the pastor started his graveside prayer, I heard the wind rustling the trees off in the distance, and didn't really think anything of it since rain was forecast later in the day.

But....

As the prayer turned to asking for the Holy Spirit's protection and love to surround our family, that same wind had moved silently across the field and the cemetery. When the pastor prayed the specific words for that protection and love to "surround" us, the wind hit us right in the face and blew against us. Not so forcefully as to cause a disruption, but it certainly was more than a gentle breeze. And just as quickly as the prayer ended, the wind departed.

I don't know who else in the crowd noticed that. But it left my hair standing on end.

Just wanted to share....more coming soon.

Marinated Crab Claws

Marinated, sauteed crab claws at Live Bait, Orange Beach, AL. This is some seriously fine stuff. Lots and lots of butter and garlic, spiced just right! Mmmmm, thanks Vital Nurse for this tip.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Culinary Bucket List...

A special thanks to a bunch of friends over on Facebook for providing me recommendations on good eats in Gulf Shores. I've put together this "culinary bucket list" for the trip, and will give critiques as I can this week.

Drum roll please....

• Live Bait - Vital Nurse says try the marinated crab claws
• Lulu's - Kimberly said the "jet ski killer" is an awesome drink
• The Original Oyster House comes highly recommended from several friends. I think I've eaten there before, and it IS good.
• Zeke's Landing was given several votes as well
• Sea-n-Suds sits right on the beach not too far from where I'm staying.
• Cosmo's comes recommended from one of my more discerning friends
• Louisiana Lagniappe got a couple of trusted votes, this one may be worth a little drive.
• Lambert's - home of the throwed rolls! I KNOW this is a good place.
• Jake's Steakhouse got one vote, but I couldn't find a website. May have to go exploring for this.
• Bahama Bob's rounds out the list, but like Jake's, I couldn't locate a website.

I'll let yall know what I find and how it tastes! (And maybe a picture or two, just to make your mouth water...)

Gonna head south...

White sands and sea breezes await in Gulf Shores, Alabama. I'll be back on Wednesday the 15th. I might do a little blogging while away...but then again, I might not. If you want to keep up with me, try following me on Twitter or on Facebook.

See yall later!

Biker Body Map: How Paramedics See Motorcyclists

Ride Fast & Shoot Straight: Biker Body Map: How Paramedics See Motorcyclists

Gotta love the dark humor of EMS.