This Post is Not Worth Reading. Skip it. I mean it. Don't

This morning I made coffee and thought about my life. This is how I start most of my mornings. I get up, I pick up my robe off the floor and put it on. I use the bathroom. I take my Bible, my journal, a pen and walk to the kitchen. On a good day I get to eat HoneyNut Cheerios. I read a chapter out of the Bible. Right now I'm reading through the Psalms. (Tomorrow is 119.) Then I open my journal and write. I have a really big journal that I bought about a year ago. It is several hundred pages and I got it because I never thought that I would be able to fill it all. But each day I write a little thought, reflection or prayer and it is almost full. Sometimes I find myself staring out the window our at the wall.

Why do I do this? I can't really point to anything beyond the belief that I think our mornings set the tone for our whole day. I usually don't receive any insight into myself or the world or God. Most days I feel like I'm writing the same thing over and over again. But it's quiet and I think that is one of the best treats. (I told you not to read it.)

See You in the Funny Pages

Good comics are some of my favorite things to read. I love Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, The Far Side, Get Fuzzy, Dilbert, Foxtrot, Zits (and secretly Luann). I think that Beetle Bailey, Hagar the Horrible, Dagwood, and Ziggy should all enter retirement. I think that Cathy, Curtis and Marmaduke are responsible for my low math score on my SAT and that they world is a more frightening place because they have existed.

I love a good strip (comic-, maybe New York-, but not -tease) because it can pack volumes into three or four little panels. And when they are really good they can pack movement between the panels. If you read Bill Watterson's Calvin and Hobbes, the art is so good that you find yourself filling in actions in your head that are only implied. It would be like taking a short film and selecting three or four frames to tell the whole story. It's genius when it works. It's just a joke on paper when it fails.

I'm not an expert of comics (I don't even know if it's wrong to call them cartoons. Is that term only for television animation?) But like all forms of art, I know what I like.

Rainy Day Suggestion

I don't know what you're doing today, but right now it's raining in my little part of the world. I recently picked up some piano music from the library for reasons that are not even that interesting to me. It is really good. So my post today is simply a suggestion. Even if it's not raining where you are, if you need a break from work, or the world, or yourself, find a copy of Gymnopedie No. 1, by Erik Satie, put on some headphones, watch the rain, and let the music wash over you like the rain is washing the earth.

I Live a Pretty Interesting Life

There are some people in my life who lead pretty boring lives. Not that I actually think they are boring, but that they do. They are just not even interested in their own lives! What a tragedy! You should at least be interesting their your own life. If you're not, then you should go do something about it. Without seeming too self-inflated, here's a list of things about my life that interest me. I suggest you make a list of your own. I'd love to read it.

(In no particular order)

-I have run a marathon.
-I have learned French, which I intentionally forgot and je regrette.
-I have learned Biblical Greek.
-I have learned Biblical Hebrew.
-I can juggle.
-I dated six girls and married the best one.
-I taught myself to play the guitar.
-I can read big, long books. And I like it.
-I can turn my tongue upside down.
-I taught myself to type, but not until I was a senior in college.
-As a child, I slid on the ice, hit my head, had a ceasure and had to wear medical dog tags for two years.
-I went sledding once and ran into a cement bench.
-I have been to Alaska, Mexico, and Argentina.
-I have shaken hands with Dudley Moore.
-I have shaken hands with Robert Shuller Sr.
-I have shaken hands with Chiam Potok.
-I named my cat Potok.
-I have been given a car.
-I ran cross country, track (I could high jump over 5' 10") and did diving.
-I would be satisfied if chocolate chip cookies were the only kind of cookie there were.
-I can do a tri-pod and a duo-pod.
-I spent a summer living in Colorado.
-I have had my bike stolen. Twice.
-My family was once robbed. On Superbowl Sunday. While we were at evening church.

As you can see, I could go on forever. I hope you are as interested in your life as I am in mine.

Color

I often think about color. While we categorize our experience of color using words like, orange, blue, red, aqua-marine, our actual experience is actually beyond vocabulary. What is blue? The blue of the sky is so different from the blue of the sea that I wouldn't even call it the same color. Same with the red of a rose, of blood, of wine, of a fire engine. How many greens are in a field of grass? How many yellows in a ray of light?

And what blows my mind is that the world didn't have to exist with so much color. People who are color-blind get around just fine. They drive to work. They get married and have children. Many color-blind people don't even know they are color-blind. The fact that most people can see things in color leads me to believe in a God who creates both as an architect, an engineer, but also as a painter, a genius whose canvas is pure matter.

And then the wonderment of what heaven might be like sets in. What if our lives are color-blinded, grace-blinded, love-blinded, Christ-blinded, and while we get around pretty well in this life, the life to come will be blindingly brilliant and we will wonder how we were ever satisfied with anything less. Is it possible that just like the color-blind man who does not know what he is missing, we too lack even a frame of reference to understand what we are missing.

Open your eyes as wide as you can.

If You Are Healthy...

Soon enough flu season will be upon us. Old people will be complaining about how their aren't enough flu shots to go around. Kids will be missing school. Your co-workers will be coming to work when they should be at home. People are instructed not shake hands with others and to wash their hands more frequently. People won't listen.

So let's get ready. I don't care if you get a flu shot or not. I won't, never have. But I think it is important to be grateful if we are healthy right now. When I'm sick, especially with the flu, it is hard for me to even remember what it feels like to be healthy. I swear to myself again and again, that when I'm healthy I will not take my health for granted. I promise to be thankful for the strength to just get out of the bed that sickness has tied me to.

But I don't.

As soon as I'm healthy I get wrapped up in other things. Mostly my own pseudo-problems. And I forget the pledge I made to remember that health is not a right, something I am owed, but rather a grace, something that comes freely to me. I don't know why I'm healthy. I don't know why I don't have to suffer. But at least for today, I'm going to be thankful that my throat is moist and smooth, my bowels are not burning, and I haven't thrown up in a long time. If that's the best thing I can say about a day, it's a good day in my book.

Pain

So much of our lives revolve around the avoidance of pain.

We rarely even get to the point where we have to avoid something as acute as full-blown pain. Most of the time we act as soon as we are even mildly uncomfortable. We take pills, purchase air purifiers, and take a day off work. We protest and pout when we feel even a light ache in our limbs or head.

We even speak of pain theologically: God is my comfort. God keeps me safe. God protects me. Could there be anything further from the gospel message of a suffering servant? Where does it say that Christians are immune to the pains of this world. Would our understanding of God make sense to those martyrs of the early church, thrown to lions, roasted in hot pans, scourged, hung, and my personal favorite, had red hot elements placed on their head, burning their flesh down to the bone? Surely God is their comfort, but in a way far removed from the way that we speak. We talk of God as some kind of spiritual down throw. While those early Christians believed that suffering pain was an avenue to communion with Christ, modern thought is more likely to say that those people who live lives devoid of pain are in some way closer, more blessed, especially chosen by God.

The recent tragedy of hurricane Katrina illustrates how far we have come from a proper understanding of pain and suffering. Not only is there cries for help and relief from the horrible circumstances, but there seems to me a surprise, an indignation even, that something so bad could happen. We have convinced ourselves that painful things are never going to happen. At least not to us. When they do happen we suffer doubly. We suffer the pain of whatever trauma we are going through and we suffer because we are forced to come to grips with our own delusions.

Pain is not the worst thing that could happen to us.

Victim of Grace

Why of all possible worlds does this one exist with me in it? Why am I so fortunate to be alive? Why am I so condemned? So many of the things that happen in my life are totally and completely out of my control. I cannot prevent life's tragedies nor can I herald life's joys. If I discipline my body and my mind, practicing patience and restraint, if I sacrifice myself for others, the dark clouds continue to rumble over head. If I live by my whims, speaking my mind regardless of consequence and giving full rain to the darkness in my heart, I still get rainbows.

I am another victim of grace.

God chose me. Why? I can come up with no reason other than that I must, in some way, delight God. Maybe I make him laugh. I know I have made him cry. There are moments when this hits me with its full force. God chose me. I have to repeat it five or six times before I really even start to understand that I will never really understand fully what this means. So I squint into my brain as hard as I can and I see a hand beckoning me into the shadows. "Come deeper into the mystery." I hear a voice say. Another Victim of Grace.

If you like things that are far away...

Then go to my "links" section and check out the Astronomy Picture for the Day. This is a website that has pictures from the Hubble space telescope as well as a lot of other cool celestial related pictures. A good daily reminder that we are not the center of the universe.

Grande, Skinny, Extra-Hot, Barrel of Oil

Unless you have been living under a rock* you know that gas prices are on the rise. The big question on everyone's mind is, "When will this affect the amount of driving we do?" I'm here to tell you that we have a long way to go. We live in a country of people who will pay between $3.00-$6.00 for their daily latte. Until the price of a gallon of gas is more than the price of coffee, nothing is going to change. You saw this when gas jumped over $3.00 due to Hurricane Katrina. Those of you who buy from any place with some derivation of "Buzz," "Bean," "Ground," or, "Cup-a..." in the title, you had second thoughts. It will take another $1.75 before die-hard Starbuckers are going to have to rethink their road costs.

Prove me wrong America! Show me that you believe there is at least one thing that is more important to you than personal freedoms. Maybe it all starts with a realization that it is ridiculous to pay $5.00 for a cup of coffee when you could sponsor a child through Compassion International for only $30 a month. I've have to go now and search for change in the sofa so I can drive to Starbucks and get my grande, extra-hot, ...


*This is in no way intended to be derogatory to those people who do live under rocks. Nor does this statement include anyone whose apartment happens to be directly below the actor/wrestler The Rock.

Blog Post Numero Uno

'shifting gears' is my blog. It is entitled such that I might change subject topics to fit my whim. I'll be writing along about the current political climate, decide I have nothing more to say so go, "Shifting gears...I want to talk about cookies. The cookie achieved perfecting in 1943 with the invention.." You get the picture. Enjoy.