Anger is not usually very pretty, but let’s face it, it can sometimes be quite entertaining. Case in point:
…or maybe it’s just my skewed sense of humor….
It would be obvious to even the casual celestial alien observer that human anger frequently takes us by surprise. And usually causes damage. Sometimes irreparably so. God says this about our wrath:
“…for the anger of man does not achieve the righteousness of God.”
With that in mind, I’m disappointed in how God’s wrath takes such a bum rap in the Old Testament. His is seen through our very self-serving and self-centered interpretation, based on our own emotional responses. This is likewise dangerous, because God’s anger is not Continue reading “Beware of Old ladies with B-I-G Bibles”
My brother-in-law still teases me about the time I invited him to play a “quick game of chess”. Right. Like such a thing exists, unless of course I’m your opponent. More recently, I had the opportunity to learn a little more about this masterful diversion from my niece’s husband. Naturally, I still didn’t win, which in my case was not really the point. And, let’s be real, the man’s an engineer and actually understands the game.
One of the few things I do understand about chess is that sometimes you have to sacrifice certain pieces to gain access to others as part of an overall strategy to conquer the opposition. (I like that word “conquer” since we’re dealing with kings, queens, knights, and the like, things we Americans are not overly acquainted with except in our video games and whatever else Hollywood feeds us.)
I’m composing this little post in the beauty of an autumnal morning. The summer heat is beginning to succumb to the earth’s orbit, the last of the four “blood moons” has passed into history, and despite that occurrence, one of my more immediate concerns has been whether the bag worm epidemic is going to destroy my beloved sycamore tree. The shallowness of that may be evidence enough of my state of mind, but there it is.
Of course, all that could change in an instant. You know how life does.
So I’ll write this now and post it later, because I’m writing in celebration of my blog’s one-year birthday in January of 2016. And maybe I’ll even read it myself. Because here’s the Continue reading “Happy Birthday to me!!!”
I’m sitting on the patio at our middle daughter’s rented reconditioned print-shop-turned-bungalow in upstate New York. At this writing, Christmas is but a few days hence, but my hopes for a white one are completely dashed since, opposite of last year’s white out, this year will probably be one of the warmest on record for this area.
Dang! I was hoping to be snowed in up here for a while!
The photo was created by Richard Starbuck. Although I’m sure if I’m a super hero or an arch villain. It depends on who you talk to, I suppose…
I find the explosion of super hero-mania interesting. (Not so much the zombie fascination, although I’m sure there’s probably plenty of fodder there for the psychologists, also.) I went to to see the original Star Wars back in the late seventies, back before Harrison Ford and I had gray hair. Rumor has it that my in-laws knew one of the guys who played Darth Vadar, and that he was a really nice and gentle human being.
Good acting, that.
One spin-off from all of this super-hysteria is Marvel’s Agents of Shield. It’s a fairly violent show, so I’m not putting my Better Homes and Gardens Seal of Approval on it or anything, but it does bring up an interesting make-believe concept: people may have latent super powers for which they didn’t ask. And, secondly, they need to learn to control those gifts for good or for bad purposes. AND in that learning process, there tends to be “collateral damage” along the way.
But, really, is that so far-fetched?
We all have hidden (and sometimes not so hidden) traits that need to be harnessed, but to do so, they must first be identified. What we may initially think is a curse, may be the very thing our Creator had downloaded into our personal hard drive for a specific purpose. When it’s tempting to think, “Why did God make me this way? It seems so abnormal!!”, it may actually be wiser to ask, “Why did You make me this way? What’s Your plan?”
Case in point: I seem to not “feel” as deeply as some others do. I tend not to “miss” people so much when they are away, although I love it when I see them again. Or why some people seem so blessed with “feeling” the presence of God, and I’m just, well,…me. So I wondered about my emotional make-up, until I began to see how this irregularity functions quite well when there is a need for calm, unemotional evaluation or action.
And then I just love the whole Bruce Banner/Hulk thing. He’s finally starting to figure out how his curse can be used as a blessing, although it is only via his interaction and relationship with his new-found Avenger teammates that he is learning to harness his power for good. He needs his friends’ help. We are no different.
Finally, in the learning process, there tends to be hurt. For me, people may think I don’t love them, or in the other example, that I’m not in love with God. Both assumptions are grossly wrong. Here’s where clear communication is so important. Pray for grace, pray for protection. We have an enemy that would like to fully take advantage of this misunderstanding.
“There are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but the same Spirit is the source of them all. There are different kinds of service, but we serve the same Lord. God works in different ways, but it is the same God who does the work in all of us. A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other.”
I love the Nelson-Adkins Museum of Art in Kansas City. My NYC artist daughter says that the collection there is considerable, and she would know. I’m a particular fan of the antiquities section, Egypt, Rome, and all that, and Bob always likes to visit the Orientals. Of course, part of the artwork that is preserved has to do with the culture’s endemic religious artifacts, including the stone/metal/wooden statues and idols, some little and some not so little (there’s a Buddha in the stairwell that would not even fit in my house….)
Unlike my sister-in-law, Terri, I’m not a jigsaw puzzle person. Every vacation or holiday, you can just about bank on it—out comes some beautifully photographed but deviously detailed puzzle with three million pieces, and somehow that’s supposed to be stress-reducing?
To each his own.
If I were a puzzle-fan, however, I definitely wouldn’t buy them secondhand, like I do most everything else. There’s just this nagging thought that after all that work the last piece (or five) would not be in the box. That could mean, for instance, that Washington’s nose might be missing as he’s crossing the Delaware, or the chalice might be missing from the Last Supper, or Picasso’s Guernica….
….well, okay, on that one I might not notice.
Point made, if I want to make sure I have a whole puzzle, it needs to be a NEW puzzle.
My hubby wrote a book. He’s written several actually, self-published a few, set them up on Amazon, had a few sales, and all of that. We’ve even gotten some decent reviews (I say “we” since I’m the one who finds the reviewers and sends his stuff out there, kinda a mom and pop writer/publicist arrangement…we have fun.)
In the past, long before the proliferation of the Indie movement, he would get plenty of rejection notices from already established publishing houses. You sort of get used it, I suppose, things like “this is not what we are looking for currently” and the like. So, to oldies like us, the actually Send-Me-Your-Book-And-I-Will-Read-It kind of Indie review is a fairly new and open road.
I just received my new official emergency backpack for my office. (I’m a school nurse, and we try to prepare for the unthinkable, as well as treat headaches and put bandaids on boo-boos.) I won’t mention where I got it, but I say it’s “official” since it’s bright red and has a cross on it. Supposedly, it has enough space to hold supplies for three days. It’s the three days of “what” that gives one pause, and obviously calls for prioritizing what one might need for those three days. (Three days with 550+ middle schoolers….just sayin’.)