A Riddle

A Roscoe will be awarded to the first person with the answer.  (Riddle provided by Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Calendar)

I can sizzle like bacon, I am made with an egg, I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg.  I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole.  I can be long, like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole. What am I?

Have at it then.  It's been a while since I've given a Roscoe out to anyone.

Tom

What are the odds

Both of these come from my Uncle John's calendar:

 

Somebody upstairs likes Billy:

In 2004 nine-year-old English soccer fan Billy Harris had a dream that Middlesbrough, his favorite team was going to beat Bolton 2-1 and win the English League Cup and that a specific player, a gent named Zenden, would score the wining goal.  Billy's dad, who had never bet on a game before put the equivalent of $27 dollars on the team.   On February 29th the game was played and Middlesbrough, a 60-to-1 long shot, beat Bolton and won the cup.  The score was 2-1 ... and Boudewijn Zenden scored the winner.  Dad won $1,600 and mom gave Billy a notepad to write down all his dreams.

Somebody like Rolla?  Not so much...

In 1949 Rolla Primarda of Taranto, Italy, was struck and killed by a bolt of lightning.  According to weather experts, the odds of that happening to anyone are about, 600,000-to-1.  Having said that, what makes Primarda's fate so amazing is that his dad had been struck down by lightning 20 years earlier in the exact same spot.  Spooked yet?  3o years before that, his grandfather had died ... in the same place, in the very same way.   

Is there a blurred line between destiny and luck?  Are there forces behind some of these occurrences or  simply the law of averages stretched out through the ages?  In the coming blog postings I'd like to look at some of these types of things.  You are welcome to play along.

First of all, are these coincidences or not?  

Tom 

Both the silver and the Bronze medals were lost in the men's 200 meter sprint last night, and not only by those too slow to keep up with the leaders, no they were lost because two runners stepped on the white line on the inside of their lane.   So, while Uusain Bolt performed his "I'm #1," "Whose the Fastest Man" happy dance, Churandy Martina and Wallace Spearmon had the visage of, slightly diminished, elation wiped from their exhausted, vein extruded faces as each man in turn heard that his quest for a shiny circular prize had fallen just short.  You see, the rules state that if a runner steps on the inside line (even just a little bit) they will be disqualified; end of the line, take your shoes off and sulk while your lawyers protest the IOC's ruling.  Personally, I feel bad that these two men worked hard and lost, but at least we've finally found in this, a moment of absolutes; a hard line not to be crossed, or even stepped on.     In a time when wright and wrong are mixed into shades of grey and responsibility is something victims push off on their parents, their bosses, the government and society as a whole, here stands one clear moment of absolute.  You step on this line and you're out.  

Wouldn't those lines be better applied in the legal system, in government, and in - well - life? Let's draw a white line on the inside lane of marriage and call it "till death do we part" and remain true to that.  Let's draw a line on the lane of parenthood that says "I'll be here for your son and daughter" and let it stand.  Let's draw a line on the track of honesty and integrity and not trample it underfoot.  Let's paint a white boarder down the narrow lane to God and dare not cross it for fear of disqualification.  Ah, but we're human, we mess up and we stomp all over these lines.  We are automatically disqualified and told that we may as well hang up our shoes and pay the consequences.  Thankfully, we have an authority greater than the IOC.  We have Jesus who took himself out of the race on our behalf.   He sees where our feet hit white paint and he takes on our disqualification.  

So today I'll run.  Lord let me run valiantly.  If I sacrifice integrity for a short cut, rebuke me.  If I exchange honor for accolades, instruct me.  If I trade your will for my want, correct me.  If I lose, let me congratulate those with fleeter feet and truer training. And if I win, let my happy dance be about you Lord.

Tom

New School Prayer:

WRITTEN BY A 15 yr. Old SCHOOL KID IN ARIZONA:

Since the Pledge of Allegiance and The Lord's Prayer are not allowed in most public schools anymore because the word 'God' is mentioned, a kid in Arizona wrote what follows: 

New School Prayer:

 Now I sit me down in school where praying is against the rule

For this great nation under God finds mention of Him very odd.

If Scripture now the class recites, it violates the Bill of Rights.

And anytime my head I bow becomes a Federal matter now.

Our hair can be purple, orange or green, that's no offense; it's a freedom scene.

The law is specific, the law is precise. Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.  

For praying in a public hall might offend someone with no faith at all.

In silence alone we must meditate, God's name is prohibited by the state.

We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks, and pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks..

They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.  To quote the Good Book makes me liable.

We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen, and the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.

It's 'inappropriate' to teach right from wrong, we're taught that such 'judgments' do not belong.

We can get our condoms and birth controls, study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles.

But the Ten Commandments are not allowed, no word of God must reach this crowd.  

It's scary here I must confess, when chaos reigns the school's a mess.

So, Lord, this silent plea I make: Should I be shot; My soul please take!

Amen 

This was sent to me in an email and at some point along the way was tagged with one of those lines that try to guilt me into forwarding it.  I promptly deleted the guilt and posted the story here.   Is this really how we've let our society develop?  Are we in the process of pushing God right out of everything public?  One can only wonder where this will end.  Come Lord Jesus.

Tom

Mythical Mysteries

Two things used to scare the bejeepers out of me when I was the impressionable tender age of 6 (or thereabouts).   The first and probably the worst thing that scared me was Army Ants.  While I was over at a friends house, I saw a movie I would have never been alowed to see at home about gigantic, truck squashing, human eating ants.  My Mommy had to contend with all the nightmares I had after seeing these mammoth creatures ravage towns and villages, eating whatever was in their path.  I believe the movie may have been the one pictured on the right, but I'm not sure.  While I wouldn't condone seeing a movie titled thusly if it were made in the past few decades, I believe this one was made somewhere around the early 50s and so is less likely to be as revealing as the title suggests.  I can't recall seeing anything I wasn't supposed to see, but I was too busy hiding from the ants to worry about whether or not there were scantily clad people on the screen.   I just knew that these giant ants would seek out my house and my window to be their next target for pillaging and human flesh consumption.  I somehow managed to survive those years without these critters finding me.  I did develop a liking for killing as many ants as I could, regardless of the size of the ant or the size of their army.  

The second thing that gave me nightmares of the same ilk happened to be another movie; "Big-foot" which I saw in the theatre.  Oh, and don't you know that the big screen makes nightmares even bigger in your mind.  I'll not forget the scene where some girl was sitting in her living room watching tv.  There were a couple of windows behind her and a large shadowy figure kept moving about the porch outside.  It was when she heard a noise and went to check it out at one window that a gigantic arm broke through the other window and a frantic struggle for life and death ensued.  It was also at the moment of the window crash and the accompanying musical climax that I spilled a large movie soda all over myself.   During the sticky ride home my big sister did her level best to convince me that we had just seen a true story with live footage.  Aren't sisters wonderful.  Years later, I would finally put together that if there were camera men in the room filming the live footage of the monster crashing in the window, they would have surely warned the little girl about his presence.  

Last week, the inner child I am possessed of, was momentarily appeased.  Last week some guys in Georgia found Big-Foot dead.  They say they have him in a freezer there and are providing DNA and Photographic evidence of their story.  They also say the there were other Big-Foots (or is it Big-Feet) meandering about the area, so while I can take some solace in the passing of a terror, there is still the looming possibility of a Mrs. Foot and Junior Foot out there to give me pause.  

On a side note, they've also captured police footage of the Mexican legend Chupacabra.  What's next, Loch Ness?

Have a great day

Tom

Long term church goals?

What is your congregation's long term vision? Do you have one? Is it generally known by the whole of the membership? Is it effective?

As most of you know, the congregation I attend is beginning a new phase with a new minister. There has been a lot of emotion in this process and a lot of confusion in the mix. Pulling back together after a set of events surrounding a change like this is difficult. Add to the normal difficulties a group of nearly 30 men who stepped in through that time to try (very difficult though it was) to fill the previous minister's ample shoes, and you have a tired, disgruntled group of people at best.

Now infuse a "new guy" and hope that all the folks who've been working hard for this long lag time don't throw their collective hands in the air and say "okey-dokey new guy, its all yours!" More than that, try and draw those tired Christians into a cohesive core to continue keeping on keeping on.

To this end, do you feel that a long term vision would be beneficial? What type of vision would you suggest? Does a church dare set a numbered goal; i.e. "We want to reach 1000 members in 10 years"?

I'll take any thought and any comments.

Tom

I've been converted (at least at work)

I'm sorry to disappoint everyone. I know that there are some traditions that need to be held close to our hearts. I realize that there are some points upon which we must stand regardless of the pressure. I understand that many will no doubt disown me for my decision, so I thought it best that I come out here on the blog and publicly acknowledge my departure.

Almost my whole life I have been loyally doing my best to stay on track and on the path that I knew to be the only way. I've often fell short in my knowledge and have been able to learn more and more as the years have passed. I'm far from complete in my knowledge, but I've come a long way. In recent years I've been able to take what I know and teach others as well as help them through the difficult times. I've been there when many had become corrupt and near the point of no return. I've even been fortunate to help some come back from the brink of darkness. There were times when I wasn't so lucky and the situation was beyond my ability to help. Still though I've taken it upon myself to believe and to help as many as possible. Until now.

Sure I'll still try to help when and where I can. I don't want to see people suffer needlessly, but it's different now. Now a time has come and things have changed that have made me challenge the core beliefs I have held to for so long. Things at work have caused me to look in a new direction and operate under a different system. I know it will be difficult at first. This will surely take some getting used to. For the foreseeable future I will be living a double life as things at work and things at home will conflict. I wish I knew which I will stay with. The future is so uncertain. The two will no longer be compatible.

I'm very sorry to disappoint many of you, but at work I'm getting a new computer; it's a Mac. I'm even now waiting for it to come FedEx.

What did you think I was talking about?

Tom

Wednesday Worship (part 2)

Jeanne M. wrote some very profound things in the previous posting, here is one:

Just as I eat more than one meal a week - or a day - so I need more "meat" from the scriptures than is given in one - or two - hours on Sunday. But then I want to be with the brothers and sisters every opportunity that is presented to me. Study alone is good, but study with others helps me learn from their thoughts, just as reading blogs from those I admire and know have well-thought out ideas to present does, too.

Thank you Jeanne for that wonderful insight. What you said rings very true. Would any of us - I mean any - dare suggest that the spiritual food we receive from 2 hours a week is enough to sustain us? Yet, so many people try to survive on that or less. Granted, someone one will say that they don't need to come to church to get spiritual food, they can read their Bible at home. This is very true, you can read your Bible at home. I'll go a step further and say we should absolutely read our Bibles at home, frequently. I'm not sure how we can truly survive without this study time. But let's take this food analogy a little further.

How would our meals fare if our moms choose to not be involved in them. Speaking for my house, we would be hungry a lot because I'm not the best cook. Moms involve themselves in our meal time gatherings because if they aren't involved, we probably wouldn't eat. Now I can imagine the objection; the preacher is there to feed the people who come on Wednesday night, so why do they need me? Even as a very small child I remember sitting around our table at home. When my Dad asked me to pass the salt, I passed the salt. He could have gotten it himself, but I'm part of the family and it was my part to do for him. I may not be the preacher or the song leader, but I can still pray. I can still share in someones sorrow. I can still pass the salt. We are family and we gather together as all families should. When one of us weeps, we all feel sorrow. When one of us celebrates, we all feel joy.

There is internal Christianity and there is external Christianity. Internal is a spirit thing that is between me and God. It is very personal and very powerful. It is the place where my spirit and His Spirit communicate and where the Holy Spirit takes my heart and gives it to the Father. External Christianity is when I take that relationship that I have with God and the Spirit through Jesus and share it with people around me. I'm not just talking about preaching, but rather living. Doing what I can to take care of the needs of others. Being a shoulder to the crying, a light through the darkness or an echo in times of joy. External Christianity is born from Internal Christianity. It gives back though because External Christianity when given from the heart is a gift not only to the person you help, but also to God. In our efforts, we come near to God, and when we do that He comes near to us.

We may feel we don't need Wednesday night worship (or Sunday night), but maybe Sunday and Wednesday night worship needs us. How much greater impact would the service have for everyone involved if everyone was involved.

I told you I would share something that Patrick Mead said in his blog at www.patrickmead.net/tentpegs so here it is:

I confess: even though I understand that these times together aren’t a requirement, I find myself becoming legalistic when I think about them very long. They ARE good and, if done right, are highly beneficial… but God didn’t order us to attend them and elders overreach when they make a law God’s wisdom didn’t require Him to make. At the same time we must humbly realize that "daily and from house-to-house" was the pattern of the early church. We’ve cut that down to a couple of hours on Sunday and an hour or so on Wednesday and STILL we chafe under that "burdensome" duty! What a bunch of wienies we are!

What a bunch of wienies we are! (I think I'll end with that)!
Tom