A Day Of Pastoring- Come Along For The Ride

Yesterday was an interesting day of connections.  I’ll take you along for the ride.

The first appointment was to see Mr. R.  Recently he has moved into a new home, about thirty miles away.  His home where he had lived was bought by a developer, who is bulldozing the house and replacing it with a CVS and a McDonalds.  The new house is on the edge of the metro area, somewhat isolated, although I am sure that in a few years the sprawling suburbs will find it.  It is probably a half-a-million-dollar spread.  I’m happy for Mr. R.  He’s a humble man, has worked hard at a blue-collar job, and has continued to be faithful to our church.  Now, McDonalds has made him financially comfortable.  He said something interesting: “My true home is not this place.  One of these days I’m going to move to a finer place.”  He was speaking of heaven.

The next stop was Mr. B, twenty miles further up the road.  He and his wife moved, from the community where they had lived all their lives, to the mountains to be near their children.  Then his wife died.  And now his son is moving away.  He seems so lonely, and thankful that I would come to see him.  Losing a mate of 60-plus years can surely leave you hurting.  We talked of his wife’s funeral of a year ago, about the Lord, and we prayed together.  He seems to have lost his zest for life.  I pray he will get it back.

I received a call from a young couple whose infant was being rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery for an intestinal blockage.  We immediately called the prayer chain, and I started driving to the hospital and praying as I travelled.  This young couple is on the periphery of the church, and this would be an opportunity for them to see God’s love in action.  I arrived at the hospital and waited around with the extended family.  When X-Rays were made, the blockage was found to be gone.  The baby would be fine.

I went home for a quick bite to eat, and then to the emergency room of the local hospital to be with D.  She is about my age, and has multiple health complications.  I do not know the medical terms or details, but I know she is in considerable pain and the physicians have no good news.  We talked and prayed.  I admired her sweet spirit, and felt strengthened by how she handles such adversity with dignity and faith.  She asked me to pray that she would live for eight years, to see her grandson graduate. 

In the scriptures, we find that Jesus made a habit of touching those who were hurting.  May you and I do likewise.

Phone Call From Homeland Security

There's nothing like a call from Homeland Security to mess up a good episode of CSI Miami.

The show was in rare form. Transparent plot. Especially bad acting. With his astounding detective skills, Ryan Wolfe found an amazingly obvious clue. Calleigh Duquesne batted her eyes and smiled, which is all she needed to do to gain my attention. Lieutenant Horatio Caine was removing his sunglasses, darting his eyes, and about to mutter another monotone one-liner...when the phone rang. It was a local agent of Homeland Security, with an amazing matter.

It seems that an anonymous "worshiper" from my church had called them with what he/she considered to be a national threat. A stranger was purported to have attended our Sunday morning worship service who uncannily resembled Osama bin laden. He sat in the back of the sanctuary with a suspicious look. And, afterwards, engaged in a conversation with "someone" proclaiming that the 9/11 attacks were really the work of the Russians, not bin laden. This agent spoke with solemnity about how he was not seeking to interfere with our freedom to worship, but only protecting our nation.

I had to shake my head for a moment, to make sure this was not a dream, brought on by too many rice cakes and cheesy detective shows. No, it was real. So I proceeded to explain, hoping to avoid a visit to our next worship service by the FBI.

I am the worship leader of our church, and am quite observant of who is present and what is going on. The "suspect" in question is Connor, a homeless man of the area. I met him the previous week, and we had a pleasant and fascinating conversation. He and I share the same birthday. He is originally from Connecticut, once was married for about six months, and resides in various abandoned structures in the community. He has a long and matted beard and straggly hair. He smells. And he proclaims to have lice and fleas, and I trust him in those matters. Connor cannot complete a sentence without changing the subject at least three times. I am not a psychiatrist, but I'm pretty sure he is both schizophrenic and paranoid. He hears voices, and I was especially interested in his discription of an ongoing battle within of both the good and bad voices.

So, Connor was at church because I invited him. He is welcome anytime. He is filthy and unattractive, and would be an easy target for ridicule and abuse. And in my opinion he is just the person who needs to sit in the midst of all our nice, clean church goers and remind us just who is a child of God. Someone needs to hug his neck, while another shakes his hand and slips him a twenty dollar bill. I do not think Connor gets much love, and that is what we need to be practicing at our church.

I do not know who called Homeland Security about this guy. I am pretty sure they did not make an effort to meet him, or get to know him. He is not a threat, except maybe to ones comfort. I told the agent that I appreciate his diligence, but I'm pretty sure he can close this case.

Phone conversation ended, just as Lieutenant Caine shot the bad guy. I was left to discern just who might have been this villian. Perhaps a church member, with a disapproving scowl, who decided to call Big Brother?

 

I Do Not Know That Woman!

Hello?

Two things I definitely do not like when I answer the phone. One is when there is a momentary delay, and then someone says to me, "Hello?" It's a telemarketer. My number has been randomly dialed by a computer, and now I am simply the next potential sucker on the line. So I will hang up when I recognize the pause. And I have missed some genuine calls with this practice.

Who is this?

Now, I hate that. Why should I have to tell you who I am, because you called me? So I responded,...

You called me. Who are you?

This is John.

This is Dave.

I was going through the numbers on my wife's phone, and I found yours. Why does my wife have your number stored on her phone?

That's a good question. I have a wife; I don't need yours.

My wife has been listening. She knows that I have a hard time being nice on Mondays, and she senses I am becoming irritated. She says, "Give me the phone." She continues the conversation, and this time I listen. The guy is in Florida. He is very concerned about the social connections of his wife. It seems he is rather distraught. Debbie's soothing voice has a calming effect, and the call soon ends. Then she looks at me, rather accusatory, and says, "Poor guy. His wife is having an affair."

Perhaps. Or perhaps he is insecure and distrusting. Such people tend to go through their wife's phone, and check out unfamiliar numbers.

Would you do that?

Oh well. I had no idea I had groupies in Miami.

I Believe In Heaven

My heart's affinity to heaven is tied to my belief in love, and specifically to a God who is best defined by love.

"If she is not now, then she never was.
I mistook a cloud of atoms for a person."
- C. S. Lewis, reflecting upon his deceased wife

Lewis was speaking from the heart, yet not abandoning his mind with his beliefs. I think the essential existence of a person is not tied to or limited to physical matter. So when it comes time for an end to the life of the mass of cells, skin and bones that comprise a person's physical being, then I believe there is a personhood that continues. I celebrate the memory. I hold limited value to the ashes before me. And I believe that person continues to live, even as I look forward to a future reunion.

The soul is immortal because of the love of God. It is tied to my belief in a loving God who delights is us as His crowning creation, and evidences such love through sacrificial giving. If you and I are such an integral part of God's joy, then it is reasonable to believe He would want to continue such fellowship with us beyond this relatively short span of time here on earth.. And God is the magnificent Creator, so He is able to lengthen our association with Him to eternity. Surely His love would do so. And since He so eloquently and so consistently preaches love, then He also will practice that love through eternal relationship with His children.

Also, I believe that life after death is necessary for final justice. Most of us would agree that, often, there is no justice in this life. Babies die. People unnessarily and unfairly suffer. Followers of Christ are martyred. Bad things happen, and sometimes we cannot put a spin on the matter and find anything good from it. But, belief in eternal life adds a different perspective. It makes this life, even if it includes great injustice, just an ever-so-brief stroll that is part of a long and wonderful journey. Eternal life is the great and conclusive experience of justice.

Heaven is not, necessarily, tied to our many religious images, which are not meant to be taken with absolute literalism. I would find fluffy clouds and harps to be boring, at least after a few thousand years. I think human language, including the written word even at it's most eloquent, cannot do justice to God's fabulous expression of love through the gift of eternal life. I do like the following words of Paul:

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard,
and no mind has imagined
what God has prepared
for those who love him
." - I Corinthians 2:9 (NLT)

Ah yes, I believe in heaven!

"100 Most Influential Americans Of All Time" - 10 I Do Not Know; Do You?

Cool
Here is a link to the full list of 100,
referenced in the following blog.
TheAtlanticMonthly
Cool

The December, 2006 issue of The Atlantic gives a list entitled "The 100 Most Influential Americans Of All Time". Of course it is highly subjective. Of course there is no claim for the list to be scientific or foolproof. It is simply the result of the balloting of ten historians. The top three are Lincoln, Washington, and Jefferson; no problem with those picks.

As a minister, interesting to me are the religious figures included on the list. Number 8 is Martin Luther King Jr., surely deserving of such high ranking, and perhaps more a political than religious leader. Curiously, we have Joseph Smith at 52 and Brigham Young at 74. I question how these founders of a small religious sect, Mormonism, would be considered to be so influential upon America as a whole. At 86 is Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science, a person of relatively negligible impact. And at 91 is Lyman Beecher, great abolitionist and father of Harriet Beecher Stowe. Where is D.L. Moody, the great 18th Century evangelist, or perhaps the most influential American evangelical of all time, Billy Graham? And if we are considering raw influence, then how about the founder of the Moral Majority and religious/political resurgence of the late 20th Century, Jerry Falwell?

------------------------- --
Now, I checked out all the names on the list, and came up with ten that I do not know. Can you recite something significant about these persons? Give it a try, and let me know. And, no fair clicking to an encyclopedia and then pretending to be knowledgeable! I'll give the rankings on the list, and then the names:

TEN "MOST INFLUENTIAL AMERICANS" THAT I DO NOT KNOW

(30) ELIZABETH CADY STANTON

(39) RACHEL CARSON

(46) WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON

(49) FREDERICK LAW OLMSTED

(61) SAMUEL GOMPERS

(64) JANE ADDAMS

(68) JAMES WATSON

(69) JAMES GORDON BENNETT

(81) MARGARET MEAD

(89) WALTER LIPPMAN

Sermon Notes, "Sanctity Of Human Life"

SANCTITY OF HUMAN LIFE

Genesis 1:26-27 (KJV)
26
And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.
27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

Genesis 9:6 (KJV)
6
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in the image of God made he man.

------------------------- ----

INTRO:
Human life is sacred
Because particularly made in image of God
Makes every person special
No one reduced to an object/stat

Even "ugliest" person still stamped with that image
(1) Has Characteristic of eternity
(2) Has Characteristic of
being uniquely special to God
(3) Has Characteristic&n bsp;of being
loved of God
(4) God expects us to treat with respect that acknowledges this life is His property


I.  YOUR LIFE IS SACRED
Might have bought into this lie that you are no good
Who sells to you such a proposition?
Satan whispers it into your ear
Like he did to Job: "Curse God and die!"
Like he did to Judas: "You have messed up.  You no longer deserve to live."
You're ugly, you're stupid, etc.
Whatever the lie, do not buy into it!
World reinforces
God tells you that you are unique, special, and valuable
 
"Segullah"
King's personal treasures/cache of precious gold and silver

Exodus 19:5  Now therefore, if ye will obey my voice indeed, and keep my covenant, then ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto me above all people: for all the earth is mine:
 
The simplest usage of segullah is to indicate personal possession.

Vine's Expository Dictionary of Biblical Words expounds its meaning (remember that we are being described):

"Cegullah signifies property in the special sense of a private possession one personally acquired and carefully preserves. Six times this word is used of Israel as God's personally acquired (elected, delivered from Egyptian bondage, and formed into what He wanted them to be), carefully preserved, and privately possessed people. . . ."
You are God's special treasure!
He sees you as a valuable and highly prized possession
He wants to enjoy you, delight in you
You are the highlight of his life
 
II.  The Life that seems, at first impression to not be so wonderful, is sacred: 

Down's Syndrome

Personal Observation:
McDonald's, he was in a uniform trying to clean up a mess, getting into everybody's way, everybody so impatient,
"a bother"
Somebody's baby
God's baby!
 
Belonging
by Rebecca Phong
"She was a sleepy little one, unconcerned about the world around her; there were no typical bursts of crying that I had experienced with the other children. The sweetest hand wrapped around my finger felt as soft as silk. Upon careful inspection, I traced the long line down her palm as I glanced at my own hand and reflected upon the differences. These differences didn‘t matter. She belonged with me."
 
Sunshine
by Jeanette Bollinger
"When I finally brought Carter home from the hospital I began to notice that people had a very strong reaction when they met him for the first time. It didn’t matter what sort of mood or frame of mind they were in, as soon as they met Carter they seemed happier and just wanted to be around him as much as possible. All he has to do is smile at a person once, and he has them wrapped around his cute little crooked pinkie."  

III.  The Unborn Child Is Sacred

There is SOHL with the unborn child
American public is:
*far too quick to choose/see abortion as solution to unplanned pregnancy
*...to understand abortion as exclusive right of privacy for the woman
*...to dehumanize that which is in the womb
*...To neglect the needs of the pregnant and frightened woman
*...Teenager still in school
*...Dysfunctional family
*...Poor woman - two/3/4 children to feed
When do we recognize the sanctity of this human being?

Jeremiah 1:5 (KJV)
5 Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations.

Psalms 139:13-16 (NLT)
13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—and how well I know it.
15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
16 You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. 

 I believe there will come a time, for the American public, when the widespread practice of abortion of today will be viewed with the same incredulity and condemnation with which we now view the slavery of yesterday.
Common, accepted for hundreds of years
Few who opposed were considered unenlightened
All kinds of rationalizations
Presidents
Christians owned slaves and were involved in the slave trade

How did it change?
People more interested in being right than popular
Would not quit and would not rest
Amazing turns of historical events

It happened with the hand of God

 
IV.  The person in your midst who is different is sacred
Deuteronomy 10:17-19 (NIV)
17 For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes.
18 He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing.
19 And you are to love those who are aliens, for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt.


They can be uncomfortable to us
Look diff
Diff customs and languages
Much more comfortable to stay away
I have my comfortable friends, family, way of life, church
International in our midst

Interesting the stereotypes

Amazing how much love same people have to give
How appreciative
How kind

When you fear those who are different:
*
Easier to excuse, rationalize not loving
*Easier To miss out on God's intention that your life be enriched by this person
*Thus you do not grow in your capacity to love and your involvement in loving other
*Miss out on a big part of your purpose
*The world is poorer
*You are poorer

If I had bought-in to idea of separation of the races, out of fear/ignorance/bigotry:
*Teenage girl and teenage boy in Cochran would perhaps never been saved
*Albert & Anchie
*Cedric and Nakida - lovely home, sweet relationship, full of love
*Goldie  & Lloyd

*Next Sunday will baptize Mr. Kim into our church family


CONCLUSIONS:

Your life is sacred
The life far away is sacred
The life next door is sacred
The life that is ugly is sacred
The life that is different is sacred
The life within is sacred

Video Of Skylar: Nine Months & Walking

Skylar is now walking. 
She is 9 months old and getting around just fine. 
And of course she likes her Grampa!

JUST CLICK IMAGE TO WATCH SKYLAR!

Even as I am preparing this post, my wife is telling me that Skylar has "potties". 
She's hinting to me and it is obvious. 
I'm ignoring her, pretending I do not hear.  Let's see if I win this little battle of wills....

Well, gotta go change a diaper.

And, The Very-Bad-Acting Award Goes To........

The most poorly acted, unintentionally humorous, dramatic character on television today?

My vote goes to Agent Horatio Crane of CSI Miami.

He is played by David Caruso. I watched Caruso on NYPD Blue, and he was good. What happened?

There is much about the show that is not good. Emily Procter is so very pretty, but she mumbles her words; who can understand what she is saying? The background of many of the shows, with rolling hills, looks a lot like LA and not Miami for obvious reasons. It is all so very bad. It's so bad it is like a train wreck- for some reason, I have to watch it.

I've seen lots of bad acting performances.
Steven Seagall is the king of bad acting.
William Shatner deserves an emmy in the category.
Elvis? He redefined the description.

But, David Caruso in CSI Miami has no close rivals in the category.

It's all connected to his awful sunglasses.

Usually the script will go something like this:
Agent Caruso is standing sideways, legs open like a bull ready to charge.
He is staring off into space, like a drug deranged halfwit.
Anonymous Agent: Agent Caruso, they're escaping on the highway!
Agent Caruso: Short pause. Glances out corner of eye. Then he tilts his head sideways, like a dog. Slowly puts on sunglasses. Not-..... (dramatic pause) if things go my way.
Exits stage right.

This pattern is repeated ad nauseum.
He will make half the statement, then pause for a dramatic eternity, put on his glasses, and finish the sentence. Oh, and he drags out the second word of the last phrase, for added effect.

Was the toilet filled before the flush...(pause. grimace. put on sunglasses. tilt head)...or afterrrrrr, my friend?

And it is so especially irritating how he likes to say "My friend!" when talking with the bad guys.

I'm sure David Caruso has good acting talents. I'm just wondering why none of them are displayed in this particular show.  By the way, I watch the show almost every Monday night. It is so very bad that it is entertaining to my small mind.

And that, my friend.... (Glancing out the corner of my eye. Then, tilting head in dog-like fashion...) is strictlyyyyy.....(Puts on sunglasses) my opinion. (Walks away, swinging hips like girdle is too tight).

"Letter from the Birmingham Jail" - Worth Reading Again

It was April, 1963, Good Friday. Martin Luther King was thrown into jail for violating an injunction against demonstrating. While in jail, he was asked by a group of white clergy to show restraint, essentially to stop stirring up so much trouble. His "Letter from the Birmingham Jail" is his response. Why did he feel so compelled to fight the social situation? Following is a quote:

I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick, brutalize and even kill your black brothers and sisters with impunity; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developing a bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son asking in agonizing pathos: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tip-toe stance never quite knowing what to expect next, and plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"; then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

I'm from Alabama, born in a small rural town about 90 miles from Birmingham.  I was 7 years old when Dr. King was jailed.  "Nigger" was part of my vocabulary as a little boy. I witnessed the integration of my schools. Blacks rode in the back of the buses, sat in the back of the classes, and generally were the poorest of students. They owned no businesses in town, although a few were privileged to sweep the storefronts. Their shantytown at the edge of the city was filled with ramshackle homes and potholed streets. They never lived in our white neighborhoods or came to our white churches. We tolerated them, felt sorry for them, but deep inside we did not like them.

I changed. It was a process. My school teachers dared to avoid overt racism, giving me time to consider a tiny bit what life could be like without it. My brother went off to College, and came back insisting that I not use racist words. And I committed to knowing and following Jesus Christ while a teenager, and His teaching about love became a constant insistance that my heart change toward blacks, who were now my brothers and sisters whether I liked it or not.

I've been to Birmingham. There are parts of the city that look like a third-world country; they are black neighborhoods. And I've been to lily white churches that have no place for people who happen to have a different skin color. They make me sick.

This amazing man could have found plenty of justification for resolute hatred toward white people. It is an amazing testimony to his character, and even more to the power of God, that he found another avenue for changing his world.

I'd like for my daughters and I to take his little girl to Six Flags. I'd like to take Dr. King out to eat at the finest restaurant in town. I'd like for him to be my guest speaker for Sunday morning services. Of course, it's too late to do those things. But I can insist upon justice for all, as did he. It's simple. Not easy, but simple.

I Have Decided To Cancel Mondays

Just another day at the office….the Dentist’s Office, that is.

First the terror:  I was there for a lovely Build-Up And Crown.  It had been weighing upon my mind for the weekend, and the cause of a couple of nights of fitful sleep.  Now, Dr. Rucker informed me with a cheerful smile there would be two of these procedures.  And I have noticed that my dentist indeed has a beautiful smile.  I wonder where she goes for her dental work; perhaps she uses a mirror and takes care of herself?  Humming and preparing needles, she also casually mentioned the possibility of a root canal.  She was informed, with panting breaths, that I have gone my entire life without one and do intend to go to my grave with the record intact.  The doctor rolled her eyes and continued to prepare her hypodermics.  And that is when Michelle, the assistant, piped in with her opinions.  Hispanic and with a thick accent, her words were hard to follow:  “...something – something – something…..men are big babies…something – something…women can bear children…something something…dentist no big deal”  She was a nice lady, but I did not ask for her insights.

The doc gave me three impressive shots.  As the second was inserted into the roof of my mouth, she said with a cheery voice, “Ooh, this one is going to hurt!”  She was right.  Then began the drilling.  Scraping.  Suctioning.  More drilling.  I’m sure you are acquainted with the routine, although I’m equally sure my pain was worse than yours.  On it went for 2 ½ hours.  The good news- no root canal.  The bad news- I could have bought a really nice laptop with that money.

Don’t you hate it when the dentist asks you a question, and waits for your reply?  Your mouth is numb, drool dripping, and you certainly sound retarded.  I think they do it just for the laughs.

I stared at the office ceiling for a long, long time.  I counted tiles, light fixtures, and then pores in the tiles.  I made note of flaws, and compared the luminosity of the various lights.  And I thought of a great idea- these guys should make practical use of ceiling space for their customers, similar to how they now utilize the wall space in front of urinals in theatre bathrooms.  You guys know what I mean.  Perhaps the dentist could mount a television above the chair.  Or, inspirational thoughts could be displayed on the ceiling, like “No Pain, No Gain” or “Prepare To Meet Thy God”.

I’m now back in the comfort of my own office.  Mouth is still numb, and I know I sound strange on the phone.  The secretary just tried to console me by telling about her ordeals with the dentist.  And she said to me, “Unlike you, my procedures are even more difficult because I have a small mouth.” 

Actually, Michelle and Dr. Rucker are very nice people.  I would love to know them in another setting, other than that of adversary and subject of my nightmares.

Name Dropping: The TV Weatherman And The Septic Tank Guy

Earlier today I was stuck in an excruciating, marathon listening session on the phone. I barely knew this lady. We met at a funeral, and never dreamed we would connect again. She lives in Buckhead, probably the most wealthy neighborhood of Atlanta, and in every way far from where I reside. What brings us together is a common desire to be of help to a mutual friend.

She droned on and on for well over thirty minutes, and it seemed like hours. My part of the conversation was mostly grunts, affirmations, feigning of interest, and desperate hope that the subject at hand would somehow be invoked again. It was not all her fault. I am not a good phone conversationalist. I want to get right to the matter, reach conclusions, and hang up- five minutes is usually sufficient. But this dear lady just rambled, on and on and on. I zoned out, hearing just enough of the endless stream of words to be signaled should the subject ever again be of interest. And then it happened.

She dropped a name. My interest was instantly engaged.

Her good friend is wife of a local television weatherman! She mentioned his name, with a sound of great import. And indeed I know that person. Many times I have sat in my underwear and watched him give the evening forecast. He wears nice suits, and has big teeth. And he makes an exhorbitant amount of money to read a teleprompter.

As she continued to talk, I began to wonder what it would be like to be a TV weatherman. They all seem to have a characteristic persona: big hair, deep voice, bubbly personality, and an amazing acumen with a little video switch hidden in the hand. I toured the CNN Center one time, so I know these guys actually stand in front of a blank blue wall and pretend to point to a weather map. And, I guess that takes a bit of talent. It's probably worth a nice residence in Buckhead.

And about ten minutes into my mind's trip, I heard on the phone, "Dave, are you there?" Mercifully, the conversation finally ended.

How funny that one should claim fame and a sense of self-importance by being acquainted with such a person. Well, actually with his wife.

Now, I've rubbed elbows with a couple of important people. I do not want to drop names, but... There's the millionaire who owns a chain of porn stores in the metro area. Curiously, I met him at a funeral, also. I haven't taken a tour of his business, and don't plan to. But he is actually a nice guy. And there is Ben, the fellow who does an amazing job of pumping out my septic tank. He will climb down into it, if necessary, and can clear it out in a jiffy. When his big truck pulls up, I like to go out into the yard and talk with him while he works. He is a nice guy...probably has a mansion in Buckhead. He probably thinks I'm a bit strange.

I think either of my "friends" to be a more worthy subject of name dropping than her weather guy.

Dave And His Absolutely Horrible Incredibly Very Bad Day

At least it is over with- the absolutely worst day of my year.

The apointment had already been made with Michael Moore. He would be waiting for me at Blockbuster. I'd pick him up around 1 p.m., and we would spend the afternoon together. But we never got together. Fate provided other plans.

My daughter's car failed the Motor Vehicle Inspection test. This is a yearly emissions check required for cars in the metro area. I think it is a good idea to try to protect the environment, so I don't have a big problem with it- except when it is my car that does not pass inspection. So I drove about 40 miles away to leave her car in the shop, hoping that repairs would be affordable. From experience, I seldom get such a wish.

On the way back, in my second vehicle (the requisite mini-van), the motor exploded. Well, first it started knocking. Then it started smoking. And then it exploded. I always tell my kids to pull over at the first sign of trouble. But, of course I did not practice what I preached. So I sat aside Interstate 285 for three hours waiting for help. I called 9-1-1; and was given the phone number for the official wrecker service. I called the number and was placed on hold; eternal hold! The operator never came back onto the line, and when I called again all I got was a busy signal. So I called the police asking for assistance. They never came! I kid you not- a couple of policemen pulled up, looked at me warily, and drove away. Finally I called my wife, she loaded the baby into the car, and made it in the middle of rush hour. And believe me, you do not want to be on the side of the interstate around here during rush hour. We finally got the car to a shop, and came on home. The trip home was painfully slow because of the traffic, and the baby was crying with abandon the whole way.

Oh, and while I was waiting, my son called to inform me he had gotten out of school and his car would not start.

And a little while later my other daughter called to say her car was overheating.

So, right now I have three cars in the shop.
Thank God for Mastercard, and a high credit limit.

I do believe that experiences of life tend to even out. So, somewhere along the line I have a fantastic day waiting for me.

Homework Assignments: Michael Moore, Burma, & Decent Conversations

Perhaps you would like to join me in a couple of t-blog homework assignments?

Surrogate has challenged me to view Farenheit 9/11, by Michael Moore. I'll do it, provided the DVD is still available at the local Blockbuster or Hollywood Video. He gently, or perhaps not so gently, chided me for being presumptious in refusing to watch or read anything produced by the troublesome liberal (i.e. Moore, not surrogate). Monday I intend to view what I've presumed to be a political hatchet job. I'll grit my teeth, semi-bite my tongue, and afterwards write some opinions on this blog. If you've viewed the film, or would like to do so, then I'd like for you to join in the conversation.

Juniperflux has enlightened me to the brutal human rights abuses in Burma. This is a situation I am most ignorant about. I have received no information from my government, news media, or church. So my intent is to do a bit of research and probably write a personal response. Perhaps you would like to read comments by juniperflux to the previous post, and then give some feedback with this issue?

In conclusion, I want to make note of an interesting observation about the current state of interaction here on t-blog. Juniper and Jonguleur are right. There have been lots of hard words passed along of late. So I find it encouraging that some of the bloggers who have very differing viewpoints have been willing to come onto my blog and actually engage in energetic discourse. I had sadly surmised there was not much desire for civil conversation from a large segment of our blogging community. And I'm still a bit hesitant about knocking on some of these other doors. But this is a positive sign. Maybe we can sit around the table, coffee cups in hand, and have spirited and thoughtful conversation.

The Fear Of Democracy Is Alive And Well In Massachusetts

In 2003, the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts mandated state recognition of gay marriage. About 8,000 same-sex couples have since wed in what is currently the only state to officially sanction same-sex matrimony.

In the past year, over 120,000 signatures were collected in support of a proposed Constitutional Amendment to define marriage as exclusively between one man and one woman. For such an amendment to be placed on the 2008 state ballot, it must be approved by two separate sessions of the state legislature. Actually, only 50 members must vote to approve its inclusion on the ballot, approximately a 25% approval. Supporters of gay marriage have been determined to prevent the vote, saying it discriminates against gays.

The House Speaker was able, through political maneuvering and parliamentary rules, to prevent such a vote last year. However, this year the state's highest court admonished the legislature for preventing consideration of a citizen petition, and outgoing Republican governor Mitt Romney lobbied for the vote. The matter was forced, and 56 legislators approved. If a similar vote occurs next year, then the issue will be placed on the ballot. However, opponents are highly determined to prevent a vote for next year. They will mount a pressure campaign, and are encouraged by the promised support of the incoming Democrat governor.

Why are these politicians so afraid of a vote?
*They know that 27 states have already gone through the same process to overwhelmingly pass similar Constitutional Amendments.
*They know such an amendment would preclude and overrule the mandating of same-sex marriage by the courts.
*They fear the will of the people- the everyday folks who work hard and raise their families and consider traditional marriage to be sacred.
*They fear a statewide vote on the issue to be something they cannot control, something a federal or state judge will be unable to change with a haughty stroke of a pen.

By trying so desperately to prevent a popular vote, what are they saying?
*The citizens of our state are stupid.
*The courts should rule, not the people.
*Democracy is sufficient only when we get our way.
*When we cannot accomplish something through the ballot box, we will do it through judicial fiat.

It is a sad day when American politicians use the heavy hand of the law to prevent our citizens from casting a ballot.  I say let the people vote.

Give Me A License....I Demand It!

Is marriage, recognized by the state with accompanying privileges, a right or a benefit? 

On a strictly private basis, you and I may see marriage as a "personal, private relationship". Romantically, we see love as being the bond. And on a religious basis, I strongly believe God to be the one providing the most important connecting factor.  However, a secular state recognizes neither as necessary to a binding contract of marriage. Love for one another may be quite strong, and a religious ritual may be performed, but the government sees neither as vital for a legal marriage. What is necessary is a written contract- a marriage certificate. 

I liken the bestowal, by the government, of a marriage contract for a couple to that of a driver's license for a potential driver. And as we learned in High School Driver's Ed, a driver's license is not a right, but a privilege. It is granted by the people (i.e. government) with particular definitions and expectations of behaviour. One cannot arbitrarily define proper driving as driving on the left side of the road, or with the speed of 120 miles per hour.  No- there is a specific definition of proper driving to which one agrees to adhere when he/she receives a license.

And if one does not like the agreed-upon standards for driving, then the burden is upon that person to change the understanding of the people, who then will change the laws of the state.

Dr. Richard Land, president of the Southern Baptist Religious Liberty and Ethics Commission, shares the following views in a recent article entitled Marriage: The Courts Vs. The People:

"Following a lecture I gave at Harvard in the spring of 2005, I was asked by a coed: 'Dr. Land, you seem like a nice guy. Why would you want to interfere in the personal, private relationship of two people?'

"I responded by asking how she ever got the idea that marriage is a "personal, private relationship." Marriage is a social and civic institution with profound public and societal responsibilities, obligations, and consequences. That is why every society in human history has regulated severely who can get married to whom and under what circumstances. Societies give "benefits" to marriage that they do not give to other relationships precisely because of its profound impact on society, particularly when it comes to the rearing of children. Such "benefits" are not rights, but benefits conferred upon marriage because of its importance to society.

"When the courts try to force same-sex "marriage" on Americans, their judicial overreach threatens the nation’s social fabric."

If marriage is a "benefit"  instead of a "right", then it is proper for the people of the state to give specific definition.  Then, cannot the people choose to define marriage as specifically being a union between a man and a woman?