"true love"

This is an iPod game... and quite hilarious! Try it for yourself and see! (And yes, all of my answers below are completely legit, and are actually order in which my songs came up on the shuffle!)

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Put your iTunes/iPod on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!


If someone says "Is this okay?" you say?
"What if I Stumble" (dcTalk)

What would best describe your personality?
"From the Heart" (Hoobastank)

What do you like in a guy/girl?
"Woohoo" (Newsboys)

How do you feel today?
"With or Without You" (U2)

What is your life's purpose?
"Your Love Endures" (Third Day)

What is your motto?
"Who Can Compare" (Foolish Things)

What do your friends think of you?
"Stand and Feel Your Worth" (Thrice)

What do you think about very often?
"Circle Slide" (The Choir)

What is 2+2?
"Cadal Cah Dean Mi" (Anna Mhoireach)

What do you think of your best friend?
"My Jesus" (Sarah Macintosh)

What do you think of the person you like?
"Sailing on the Seven Seas" (OMD)

What is your life story?
"Black Stallion" (George Winston - piano version of the movie theme)

What do you want to be when you grow up?
"Out of Control" (Hoobastank)

What do you think when you see the person you like?
"Salvation" (Guardian)

What do your parents think of you?
"Eleanor Rigby" (The Beatles)

What will you dance to at your wedding?
"Celtic Agression" (Tonic)

What will they play at your funeral?
"Down Under" (Men at Work)

What is your hobby/interest?
"Staple It Together" (Jack Johnson)

What is your biggest secret?
"If These Walls Could Speak" (Amy Grant)

What do you think of your friends?
"Short but Sweet" (David Templeton)

What's the worst thing that could happen?
"Here With Me" (Dido)

How will you die?
"Behind These Hazel Eyes" (Kelly Clarkson)

What is the one thing you regret?
"Venus" (Bananarama)

What makes you laugh?
"The Lust, the Flesh, the Eyes and the Pride of Life" (The 77's)

What makes you cry?
"Sorgsen Ton (Stomped Bread)" (Garmarna)

Will you ever get married?
"We Could Send Letters" (Aztec Camera)

What scares you the most?
"My Immortal" (Evanescence)

Does anyone like you?
"Love Song to a Ballerina" (George Winston)

If you could go back in time, what would you change?
"Spot in Line" (Jon McLaughlin)

What hurts right now?
"She's the One" (Robbie Williams)

What will you post this as?
"True Love" (Code of Ethics)

What do you think about your job?
"Karma Killer" (Robbie Williams)

How do you feel about the future of our country?
"Loving Me" (Jon McLaughlin)

If a genie granted you three wishes, what would they be?
1) "Mony, Mony" (Billy Idol)
2) "Last Lullaby Here" (George Winston)
3) "Whirley Wheel" (Dryve)

whiplash, resistance, and growth

I love Election Day. It's always fun! I love standing in line, observing with amusement the motley crew of voters assembling with me. I love the many different signs required by law -- "100 Foot Limit," "Official Polling Place," "No Smoking," and many others -- and how they are all lovingly attached to the polling-place doors with duct tape by an election official who clearly thinks he is MacGuyver. Most of all, I love that I live in a free and democratic republic where I have the right and privilige of standing in that line and casting that ballot for the leadership of my country.

But let's face it -- Election Day is only really fun if your guy wins. Sadly, mine did not.

It's not that I was completely confident in a McCain victory, but I was hopeful... even if only naively so. It was sort of like being stopped at a red light and seeing a speeding idiot racing up behind you in your rearview mirror. You tighten your grip on the wheel and brace yourself for the impact, but secretly you're still hoping he'll wise up and find his brakes in time. After the impact, the ensuing whiplash serves as a painful reminder that you can never be too alert, too casual when you're behind the wheel, because you simply can't take for granted that everyone else is as diligent as you are when driving. Not everyone cares about the rules of the road.

The same diligence is required in living the Christian faith. You can never be too alert, too casual, because you simply can't take for granted that everyone else is living the by same rules of morality, justice and liberty. No matter how hard you brace yourself for a clash of ideas, the impact and whiplash still hurt.

Obama's victory was, for me, a spiritual car wreck, and I spent that entire evening sulking about the whiplash I know will last for the next four years. I took up my pen (okay, keyboard) to write down all of the bitter, angry, hateful words that rushed to my mind in the wake of his victory speech. Like the disciples on the stormy sea of Galilee, I cried out bitterly, "Lord! Don't You care?!?!" I said a lot of stupid things, lingered in many bitter conversations, and offered up many tearful prayers and petitions....

It was only when all my stupid, selfish words were spent that I, like those disciples so long ago, remembered that there is only one absolute truth, one bottom line -- that is, that God is still God, and I am still not.

He was right there in the boat with the disciples, and He was right there in the voting booths of our nation. Nothing that happened on November 4th took Him by surprise... and nothing could ever happen that would be outside of His control. The winds and stormy seas still obey Him, and the leaders of nations are still used by Him for His purposes and ultimate glory. The Bible is full of examples of pagan kings and leaders being used by God to affect His purpose for His children, and that purpose has always been the same throughout the course of history -- namely, that God wants us to grow into His image and likeness, to become more like Him.

Oftentimes that growth only happens because of resistance, because things don't go our way. The classic example of this is the Biosphere, the man-made "Garden of Eden experiment" built in southern Arizona a decade or so ago. Man, in his arrogant folly, set out to create a perfect world, a flawless environment in which there would be no pollution, no ozone depletion, no chemically-altered food or endangered species. Life inside the Biosphere was designed by man to be perfect. But it wasn't. There was something wrong with the trees -- despite living in a "perfect" environment, they were all dying. They were tall and straight and upright and looked perfect in man's eyes, but they weren't surviving. Why? Because there was no wind. One of the chief lessons learned in the Biosphere experiment was that trees need the resistance of the wind in order to live. In other words, a "perfect" world meant death for the trees because they had no adverse conditions in which to grow strong. Trees were never meant to be tall and straight and upright -- they were meant to be crooked and lopsided and battered by the elements. Only when a tree stands against the wind does it thrive.

So, too, does history show that God's people thrive when faced with adversity. In fact, God instigates that adversity in the lives of His children purposely to build up their strength. The Babylonian exile, the Roman persecution, the Reformation, even the pilgrims' settlement of the New World... time and time again the Church has faced tough times precisely because it needs those tough times in order to live. History also shows that when the Church has become "mainstream," when everything appears to be going its way -- Solomon's temple, the Holy Roman Empire and the like -- it loses its diligence and becomes lazy, taking its prominent status for granted. From the very beginning, since the moment of the Great Commission, the Church has thrived in the face of resistance.

And I believe we are entering a new season of such resistance with the election of Obama to our nation's highest office. Having held a prominent social and cultural position for the past generation, perhaps the Church has become lazy and lost some of its diligence when it comes to what really matters. Now, facing a new national leader whose words and actions are vehemently opposed to the teachings of Christ, who believes the rules by which our society lives are not God-given or absolute, God's people are about to meet some heavy winds of resistance, perhaps even outright persecution. But like the cloud of saints and witnesses who have gone before us, we should not shrink back in self-pity or fear, but turn our faces into the wind and embrace it -- even rejoice in it! -- knowing that it's the very same resistance that will make us stronger and conform us evermore into the likeness of Jesus Christ. This is exactly what God promises us in His Word:

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4 NAS)

So even while we are feeling the whiplash of this week's events, we can take hope and rejoice in the winds of resistance that are to come, because God promises we will grow stronger and taller and closer to Him as a result. After all, those are the same winds that obeyed Him on the Sea of Galilee, and they obey Him still...

power outage = good thing

I woke up to a power outage this morning... which is usually not a good thing. But today was different.

At 6:00am on the dot, I heard a loud "BANG!" outside, and everything went quiet and dark. My bedroom fan stopped, the streetlights were no longer shining through my windows, the neighbors loud TV went mute. You know how it is when things are too quiet... when everything is too still, too dark. Fortunately, I had a flashlight on my nightstand, so with a quick slip-on of the slipper and a fuzzy bathrobe, I was fully prepared to explore the dark and try to find out what had happened. But that wasn't the really good thing about today.

It took me ten minutes to find an old utility bill with a customer service phone number on it, so by the time I called to report the outage, the dispatcher simply replied, "Oh yes, we've received several calls and already have a truck on the way." Before I'd hung up, I saw the flashing lights of a large utility truck rolling down the street. But that wasn't the really good thing about today.

Another fortunate circumstance was that I love to take candlelight bubble baths, so my bathroom was already fully stocked with more than enough candles to light the entire house. Getting dressed and ready for work was not a problem. But that wasn't the really good thing about today.

I was planning to take an extended lunch break today to help out a friend in need, so I wanted to get to work early to make up the time. I was at my desk and working one full hour earlier than usual, which turned out to be the exact amount of time I needed to make up. But that wasn't the really good thing about today.

Being at work early, I was actually at my desk at the time that my cell phone alarm normally goes off to wake me up in the morning. But it didn't go off. Having gone to bed really late last night, I apparently I forgot to set it.

Had the power not gone out, I would not have woken up early, or been to work early, or been on time to take my friend to her doctor's appointment, or made up the time away from work to keep from losing pay. In short, my day would've really stunk.

But God knew I didn't set my alarm, so He provided a plan B. And it's always a good thing to know that the Lord has your back... :-)

why i quit tv

I have been without bona fide television for eight years now, and I really don't miss it. Not that I don't own an actual television set, but it's used only for watching DVDs. I did cave in and purchase a set of rabbit ears for it a couple years ago, shortly after I drove through a blizzard to get to work only to discover that work was closed because of the weather. Or the day shortly thereafter when I wore the requisite (and dreaded!) skirt and pantyhose to work, only to learn from my trousers-clad female coworkers that the forecasted high was low enough for me to have worn trousers, too. At that moment, I decided I should invest in some way to watch TV news and weather reports, especially during the winter. And that's all I've used the TV for -- checking the weather in winter, and watching DVDs. And my life was happy.

But over the past month, the dreaded TV - even with only the 5 local channels I get -- has begun encroaching into my life again. I've begun watching presidential conventions and debates. I now know when "Friends" reruns air on the local Fox affiliate. And when I was home sick a week or so ago with nothing to do but sleep on the couch with several boxes of Kleenex and a large trash can beside me, I discovered that that same Fox channel shows nothing all day long except courtroom shows. After one slightly-enjoyable half-hour of "Family Feud," I was stuck watching "Divorce Court," "People's Court," "Christina's Court," "Judge Mathis," "Judge Joe Brown," "Judge Karen," "Judge Moron," "Idiot's Court," "White Trash Court," "Humiliate Myself on National Television Just for the Money Court".... it went on and on and on! Hour after hour of the most pathetic people, the most pathetic stories, the most pathetic situations I've ever heard of.

Case in point: a woman married with three children and a fourth on the way is suing her husband for the cost of expenses to move out with the kids, because she's had enough. The husband is convinced none of the children are his because she's been so unfaithful, and the wife herself doesn't believe any of them are his. He knows the men she's been cheating on him with, and has spoken to them numerous times (some even during their clandestine meetings with his wife!). Meanwhile, the husband has brought his girlfriend -- who is living with him and his wife and kids in their house -- to the court with him as a character witness! The girlfriend, unknownst to him, is hacking into his wife's MySpace page and posting slutty pictures and comments of her. The wife wants to sue the girlfriend for defamation of character. Paternity tests prove the kids really are her husband's, at which point he agrees to go ahead and pay the moving expenses because he wants to set a good and responsible example for his kids...

Not only do these kinds of stories (and yes, this was a true case that I actually watched that day) highlight everything that's wrong and warped and messed up about our society today, but the fact that someone would actually seek to profit from these stories by parading them on national television under the guise of "entertainment" just makes me mad. What's the point of watching this kind of stuff??? There is nothing entertaining about broken marriages and broken families. On the contrary, it's heartbreaking and saddening...

... and a jolting reminding of why I quit TV in the first place...

the spontaneous season

Colorado's seasons are very distinct -- it's one of the things I love most about my new home state. I've always wanted to live in a place where leaves change colors, where snow glistens, where blossoms bud, where warm sunshine meets cool breezes. And I particularly love how spontaneous these changes are here in Colorado -- the first snow always seems to come from nowhere, the first green leaves of spring always burst in giant clusters, the first summer thunderstorm always scares the beejeezus out of you...

But no Colorado season arrives as suddenly as autumn. Early last week I noticed nothing unusual when I pulled into my normal parking spot at work, but by the end of the week the tree I normally park underneath was solid gold. I've always thought autumn comes on gradually, like gray hair, but here in Colorado it buys peroxide and goes bleach-blonde overnight. The very next day, the three trees surrounding that one had joined in the bleaching party, and gold abounded everywhere. This week, the leaves are mostly on the ground and the limbs are already bare...

Not to be outdone by the quick-changing leaves, the sunshine even gets in on the act. One day I'm coming home from church in the fading glow of sunset -- and the very next, I have to remember to leave the porch light on because it will be pitch black before I get home.

No warning, no gradual changes here... autumn in Colorado just spontaneously combusts. And I love it!

shaking hands with history

I awoke before dawn today to witness history. John McCain and Sarah Palin were hosting a rally right here in Colorado Springs, and I wasn't going to miss it. I was in line at the old airport hangar by 6:30am... and after standing in a crowd of strangers for over seven hours, I was able to shake hands with that history.

Actually, the crowd wasn't entirely strangers. As has happened to me in previous political rally experiences, you don't remain strangers with your fellow attendees for long. I met a lovely retired Air Force couple from Denver and a pair of ladies from Fort Collins while standing near the front of the line (we were about 200 people back), and we had a great time chatting for hours about the upcoming election, what the candidates would actually be like in person, why the man behind us received special bathroom access denied to the rest of us (turns out he was the Monument police chief), and how much warmer we'd be once the sun came up.

Our first glimpse of history was being able to line up right near the flight line where John McCain's "Straight Talk Express" airplane was parked. A second plane was parked right behind it, with "McCain-Palin" emblazoned across it, and that's when the enormity of the possibilities really began to hit me. The oldest presidential candidate was here, my long-term senator from the home state of Arizona. The first Republican woman nominated for vice president was here, and I was going to hear her speak. Maybe I'd even be close enough to get somes pictures.

Little did I know that somehow, in some way I could have never foreseen, I would end up in the very front row! Surrounded by a new group of only-strangers-for-a-few-minutes, we all cheered the various preliminary speakers and sang along to all of the great patriotic tunes performed by a brass quintet and a jazz band. We gleefully shouted "One nation UNDER GOD!" as the Boy Scouts led us in the Pledge of Allegiance. We sang along proudly and loudly with Lee Greenwood's immortal "I'm Proud to be an American." We even managed to appreciate the little high school cheerleading squad who tried to lead us in rounds of "U.S.A.!" and "Palin Power" chants, but who were woefully out-decibeled by the ever-expanding crowd and ever-mounting anticipation. Our feet were numb and our lower backs were killing us from standing on concrete and asphalt for hours, but no one complained. We were too excited, and the excitement continued to build...

Finally, a cheer from the back of the crowd signaled the arrival of the executive vehicles. Only a few minutes to wait until the future President and Vice President of our country would be in the building! I began to wish for earplugs and the cheering and shouts of children and adults of all ages reached even higher levels and reverberated off the metal ceiling and walls. It was only a matter of time before the place would erupt...

And erupt it did when, a few moments later, Sarah Palin entered the building with John and Cindy McCain in her wake. It was one of those breathtaking moments that make you feel so proud and so blessed to be an American...

Sarah Palin spoke first, presenting many fine highlights from her introductory and convention speeches. She didn't really say anything new, but it was thrilling to witness her intensity and sincerity first-hand. If you have been awed by her confidence through yout television set, I promise you, it is NOTHING compared to how electrifying she is in person! (And yes, boys, she really is that good looking!)

She then turned the podium over to John McCain, and a noise level I thought could not possibly get any higher somehow did. McCain has frequently been derided as a poor public speaker during this campaign, but that's definitely not the man who stood six feet in front of me today. He spoke with a passion and earnestness that is impossible to convey on television, but is impossible to ignore in person. And his message of change was emphatic and heart-felt, and the crowd couldn't help drowning out his final remarks with all the enthusiam and patriotism he inspired.

The highlight of the day was one I couldn't capture on film, however, and that was the moment when he and Palin came down off the stage to greet the crowd. What had been a friendly-but-well-packed crowd was quickly becoming a mosh pit as everyone pressed forward with outstretched arms, just hoping for a grazing touch or wave from the candidates as they passed by. Pressed up as I was against the rail, with arms full of campaign signs and American flags, it was all I could do to stay on my feet! But they made their way toward me, surrounded by an entourage of Secret Service agents, and I was one of the fortunate ones who shook all of their hands.

John McCain noticed my red Arizona Diamondbacks hat, and as I shook his hand I was able to say, "God bless you, sir." He thanked me and said, "And you."

Cindy McCain is a gorgeous woman with a gorgeous smile, and as I shook her hand I said, "My brother is in Iraq and I'm praying for your sons, too." (She and John have a son in the Navy and another in the Marine Corps.) She said, "Thank you, I will pray for your brother, too."

Sarah Palin is as approachable and friendly as she is confident and enthralling, and as I shook her hand I said, "God bless you and your family, Sarah. You are all in my prayers." She took my hand with both of hers and smiled wide. "That means so much to me, thank you," she said as she gave my hands a squeeze.

It all happened so quickly, they were such fleeting moments... and yet every single one of them looked me directly in the eye as they spoke to me. I left the rally feeling as though I could walk the streets of Washington, D.C. in a few months, see John McCain in a Presidential motorcade driving by, and he'd stop the car to say, "Hey, there's that Diamondbacks fan I met in Colorado!" Those fleeting moments of personal connection made a lasting impression on me... one of pride in my country and its leaders, one of heartfelt sincerity and passion about the things that matter most in this world and in this country, one of deep appreciation for our nation's history and of hope and wide-eyed optimism for its future.

Every American should experience this kind of bubbling, overflowing enthusiasm for our freedom at least once in their lives. This love of country is so unique to America, we must cherish it! I consider myself extremely blessed to have experienced it today, when I was given the chance to shake hands with history... Come on, sing along with me...

And I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free -- and I won't forget the men who died who gave that right to me -- and I'll gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today -- 'cause there ain't no doubt I love this land... God bless the U.S.A.!

hope is kindled

My favorite moment from the entire LOTR trilogy is near the beginning of the third film, The Return of the King. Pipping succeeds in lighting the beacon fire at Minas Tirith as Gandalf whispers under his breath, "Hope is kindled..."

The music begins to swell and the emotions begin to soar as the chain of beacon lights atop the mountains of Middle Earth begin to burn bright... the people are uniting for a common cause, the defeat of the evil that is overtaking their land!

This scene never fails to move me to tears and give me goosebumps!

A similar scene happened today in Dayton, OH. A beacon of hope was lit for our country and its leadership. And as I watched history being made, I was covered in goosebumps and moved to tears...

With the nomination of this amazing conservative and Christian leader -- who just happens to be a woman -- as the Republican Vice Presidential candidate, hope has indeed been kindled for our country and its future...

fireproof

One of the perks of working at a place like Focus on the Family is that you get to see advance screenings of great movies. Here's one that you MUST mark on your calendars!

the gentlemen of panera

I realize the title of this blog sounds a bit like a play by Shakespeare, and maybe there's a subliminal reason behind that. But what I'm really excited to talk about is my discovery -- namely, that Panera Bread is the place to find bonafide, old-fashioned gentlemen.

On my every-other-Friday paydays I have created a little ritual of stopping in at Panera on my way to work to treat myself to a delicious bagel and hot chocolate for breakfast. I've been doing this for months now, and I've noticed the most wonderful trend: every single time I stop by, there is a man either arriving or leaving at the same time that I enter. And every single time I've had this encounter, the man has stopped dead in his tracks, either coming or going, and held the door open for me. Some have even opened both doors (as most Colorado businesses do, Panera has a double-door entryway to help block out the cold in winter). I don't know why this always happens at Panera as opposed to, say, Williams-Sonoma or Safeway. But it does, and I now look forward to it even more than the bagel and hot chocolate.

Nothing puts a smile on my face -- or any woman's face, for that matter -- more than a man with manners. It's one thing when my date opens the car door for me... he's supposed to do that, he's trying to impress me and get on my good side, he has an agenda. But when a complete stranger opens a door for me simply because he is a man and I am a woman... gosh, I just LOVE that! That is the mark of a true gentleman, and such wonderful behavior is guaranteed to keep a smile on this woman's face for the remainder of the day.

The only thought that makes my smile diminish somewhat is that this behavior is commendable because it is so rare and extraordinary these days. In the old movies I love to watch, this behavior is not only common, it's socially demanded. An entire plot could revolve around such manners... I think of A Letter to Three Wives, and how one of the women actually "caught" her husband by forcing him to act like a gentleman and open doors for her. Front doors, restaurant doors, car doors... she waited until he acted like a gentleman to show him that she was worth being treated like a lady. By simply being the woman that she was -- by expecting to be treated like a woman -- she enabled him to start acting like a man.

I wonder what the world would look like if we women stopped asserting our independence and started asserting our femininity. It's one thing for my date to open the car door for me as we're getting into the car; but I've always wanted to sit in that car and wait until he came around to open it for me to get out. I admit that I've been too chicken to do that, just as there have been times when I've arrived at a restaurant door ahead of my date, and I've simpy reached for the handle myself, instead of standing and waiting for him to flex his good-manners muscles and open it for me.

What would the world look like if we women started expecting to be treated as such? It would probably be full of more smiles, as are my Fridays after going to Panera. It might even look a bit like Shakespeare...

so you found me

Every kitchen has a junk drawer. So, too, should every brain have a miscellaneous compartment. The place to file away thoughts that don't necessarily belong anywhere else, or can't easily be classified and categorized.

Some thoughts are too broad, others too obscure, still others to deep and hidden to be labeled as simplistically as "my opinion on bananas" or "why I love baseball." If only life were that simple... if only every situation, every emotion, every thought or feeling or idea could be understood, condensed, and classified that effortlessly. If only all of life were as black-and-white as it was when we were children. If only all of life's problems and situations could be as neatly summarized as The Sound of Music was understood and summarized by my five-year-old niece ("this movie is about nuns, Nazis, and nitwits"). But they can't. We can't stay children forever, and we grow up into the gray whether we like it or not. Yet the memory of that black-and-white world stays with us as we live and learn... it's the ultimate expression of faith that Christ calls us to: striving through the gray of our daily lives to find those pure, beautiful nuggets of black-and-white truth that just might be more abundant than we think or remember.

So tucked away in this corner of cyberspace is my mental junk drawer, my own private stash of thoughts... the "special reserve label" of my musings, ideas, feelings, and just plain me-ness. It's an archaeological expedition to unearth the black-and-white beauty and simplicity of Life that has been buried too long in the gray...

the latest

So it's been a while since I've posted a blog! And your'e wondering what I've been up to? Well, I could tell you all about the promotion at work and the manifold busy-ness of my new job in the Media and Public Relations department at Focus on the Family... or I could tell you about the relationship I was in for the last six months and how it ended over Easter weekend... or perhaps you'd rather hear about the long and exhaustive search for a new roommate, and the new one who finally moved in a couple weeks ago...

Or perhaps you'll just be satisfied with the knowledge that, all things considered, I just haven't had much to say lately... or at least, not much time to think about what I might like to say, if I ever had the time to say it...

twilight in my backyard

The storm clouds are fluffy and creamy smooth, and caress Pikes Peak like a dollop of whipped topping on chocolate ice cream. The silver sky is entwined with a slim band of fading, golden light, and the festive crickets can't quite drown out the buzz of electricity surging through the wires that crisscross with the tree branches overhead.

I'm told that's dangerous, but the squirrels don't seem to mind. In face, they consider it their private ropes course. And they probably need the exercise, if the way they eat my waffles is any indicator. At least they're whole grain, flaxseed waffles loaded with essential omega fatty acids. I think they taste like crap, but the squirrels eat them right out of my hand. Good for them -- after all, why should they have to scrape and scramble for their winter stores with dull, dry fur? Let them have their nuts and waffles and shiny, healthy coats, too! Waffles and a personalized agility course in the canopy of trees... yeah, these spoiled squirrels no longer scamper -- they strut.

This alley cat is strutting, too. At least he thinks he is. He also thinks he's intimidating me by staring me down with his beady yellow eyes while he crosses my yard. Poor, stupid beast -- he thinks I should be afraid. But in fact, I throw a rock in his direction and he thinks it's a toy to pounce on and chase, and now he's trapped it and doesn't know why it's not putting up a fight. I think I'll name him Dunce. That's right, Dunce. It's a rock. Just keep walking, 'cause there's more toys where that one came from.

The neighborhood children have brought their toys into the parking lot next door, but I can't quite tell what game they're trying to play. Wait a minute... that sounds like... Hide & Seek... with bicycles??? I'm confused. It's been a long time since I've played Hide & Seek, but I don't remember it being a mechanized game. This kid who's counting must be good, 'cause it looks like the others are heading to Denver to hide.

A sudden brightness -- sunset transforms the languid silver sky into blueberry punch with floating scoops of orange sherbet. The darkest hour may be just before the dawn, but for this twilight moment it's working the other way around. And it's only a moment... a heightened experience that won't last.

The crickets grow louder, the squirrels run faster, the children laugh harder, and I am compelled to linger out here, my thoughts not wanting to surrender to all that awaits within... my dreams reminding me of all that's incomplete within. Outside feels less lonely, more hopeful somehow. Without the confines of walls and a roof, I am not alone.

miyagi moments

One of my favorite movie scenes comes from that iconic blockbuster from my childhood, The Karate Kid. Young Daniel has been bullied incessantly since arriving as the new kid in town, but when the kindly maintenance man from his apartment complex, Mr. Miyagi, comes to his rescue in very dramatic fashion during one such fight, Daniel thinks he's found his savior -- someone who can teach him karate, so that he can fight his own fights from now on. Mr. Miyagi agrees to teach him, but on one condition -- no questions.

The "training" that ensues involves washing cars, painting fences and houses, sanding floors, and any number of odd chores. Time and again Daniel shows up for "karate lessons," and ends up spending his days as Miyagi's slave labor. Finally frustrated and broken down, physically exhausted and sore and unable to move, Daniel has had enough. He tells Mr. Miyagi exactly what he thinks of him, his "training," and his promise to teach him karate. In disgust, Daniel starts to walk away.

But then the moment comes...

With a terse shout, Mr. Miyagi summons Daniel to return and demonstrate the "chores" he's learned. Daniel flippantly waves his arms around in the seemingly pointless gestures, but Mr. Miyagi grabs his hands and begins to show him what he's truly learned... and then launches a sudden barrage of kicks, punches, twists and jabs, all of which Daniel is able to successfully block for the first time in his life.

With a subtle "hmph," Mr. Miyagi then bows. "Come back tomorrow," he says, and then goes into the house, leaving a speechless Daniel to absorb all that he didn't know he'd been learning all this while. By the end of the film, Mr. Miyagi's unconventional teaching methods have transformed Daniel into a conquering hero.

God uses these "Miyagi moments" in my life so many times -- such is my life today, in fact -- and I'm sure that if you were to look back through yours, you'd see them there, too. The times we asked for help and thought He didn't answer, and so we get angry and feel let down -- but when the attack comes, we find we can survive and defend it with a strength we didn't know He'd been developing in us all along. And slowly we come to appreciate and even admire God's unconventional teaching methods.

Like James wrote, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance."

Mr. Miyagi couldn't have said it better.

roommates

I used to be a good judge of character, a good judge of people, but my recent negative experiences with having roommates in my home is making me question myself and my gut instinct...

Then again, perhaps the real questioning of myself came when I didn't listen to that instinct in the first place. Instead of trusting my gut and letting it guide me in waiting for and ultimately selecting not only a roommate, but a friend, I listened to the demands of my bank account, and went with the sure-money gals. The results have been uniformly disastrous.

The bright side is that, in a few short days, I will once again have a peaceful home. The dark side is the scary one full of trust and total dependence on God to provide all my needs.

That's the real problem with looking for roommates. I've been looking to them to be the source of my provision, relying on their rent and utility checks to provide all my needs. No wonder things have been so awful -- God was simply letting me have my own way.

Lord, I'm ready to trust You! I don't want to do this my way anymore. Here are the keys... I'm moving over into the passenger's seat...

sage advice

"Take it from me," my boss announced as he walked into the office carrying a small but beautiful bouquet of peachy-pink roses, "don't buy flowers when there are 40-mile-an-hour winds outside."

Apparently, half of my Secretaries Day bouquet is blowing down to New Mexico now...

here comes the rain again

It's Friday and my boss is out of town, so I'm watching the delicious rainfall outside and not really thinking about much at all. Suddenly, the sultry voice of Annie Lennox is singing in my head, "Here comes the rain again, falling on my head like a memory," and before I know it, I'm no longer in Colorado Springs watching a rainy April day from my office window... it's now the late summer of 1996 and I'm soaking up another glorious Cambridge sunset from my favorite rooftop perch at St. Catharine's College, a cold Coke in one hand and a rather dishy, smooth-talking British lad holding the other...

I love that about music, how transporting and transcendent it is. What is it about the combination of seemingly insignificant words and sustained, harmonized pitch with often-predictable chord progression that just locks onto your memory like a pit bull and never lets go? I've always been a musician and a music lover, and perhaps not everyone is as emotionally impacted by songs as I am. But if we dig deep enough into the memories, I'll bet we could all come up with a soundtrack for the motion picture of our lives. Here's just a sampling of mine:

Mist Covered Mountains, Shotts & Dykehead Caledonia Pipe Band -- getting ready for church on Sunday mornings

You and Me Against the World, Helen Reddy -- mom and me

Every Time You Go Away, Paul Young -- the 1985 cross-country family road trip in a Buick Century

You Give Love a Bad Name, Bon Jovi -- riding bus # 814 to school every day in Tennessee, driven by Miss Polly Houton

This Means War, Petra -- election night vandalism my junior year of high school

Dogs of War, Pink Floyd -- the first video I ever saw on MTV

Right Here, Right Now, Jesus Jones -- my sister's and my car accident near Buckeye, AZ

Boys of Summer, Don Henley -- dancing on the Renfrew Ferry in Glasgow with Stewart "Blockers" Mackay (still the best-looking kilt-wearer I've ever known)

And of course, the Eurythmics and my summer in England...

The list could go on and on. Do I remember these songs because these were significant events in my life? Or do I remember these events because the music associated with them had an impact on me? Hmm... the perfect dichotomy to let simmer on a mental-backburner day such as today...

supreme court gets it right

I am so overwhelmed this morning by the news from Washington, DC -- the Supreme Court has upheld the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban passed by Congress and signed into law by President Bush in 2003.

After years of tyrannical lower-court judges trying to legislate from their benches in striking down this law because they're in the pockets of Planned Parenthood, the ACLU and other such atrocious organizations, the Supreme Court had the final word this morning. The right word. Namely, that this procedure is discpicable and inhumane and absolutely unnecessary.

I will spare you the horror of reading about the details of this procedure here, but I encourage all of you to read the Supreme Court's decision for yourselves, and tell me if you've ever read a better description of premeditated murder.

I am so thankful for the intelligent men appointed to our nation's highest court who had the wisdom to stand up today for common sense, morality, and the sanctity of human life. The battle is not over, but it is a tremendous step forward. The naysayers can yelp as much as they want about "established precedent of the Court," but that is really just the ignorant assumption that the Court can never be wrong, that once it makes a decision it must stick with it forever. If that were the case, then slaves would still be considered as property, not people (Dred Scott v. Sanford, 1857), and segregation would still be legal (Plessy v. Ferguson, 1896). But just as these decisions were reversed by later Courts, I pray that our current Supreme Court members will have the courage to overturn the most vile, dispicable mistake their predecessors ever made... Roe v. Wade.

go ahead, wildcat fans...

I thought it was time. I thought we were due. I really did. After all, it's the 10-year anniversary of our NCAA title (gulp... that means it's the 10-year anniversary of my college graduation!), so for the first time I completed an NCAA tournament bracket, and I picked my alma mater to go all the way.

Yes, I can't deny it... I picked Arizona to win it all.

Of course, if I was a true basketball fan, I would have known the team better. But other than Lute Olsen, I didn't know the team at all... heck, I couldn't even name a single player on the '97 championship team (I'll guess someone was named Stodemyre... or maybe Bibby?), let alone this year. And yet I still call myself a fan... after all, I still have the "W-I-L-D CATS" song on cassette from the team's first Final Four trip in '88, and I can name all of those starters (anyone remember Matt Muehlebach? I have his autograph! And Sean Elliot autographed my basketball... I wonder how much that could get on eBay these days... anyway...). So even though I never bought one single piece of college "go team!" paraphernalia while I attended the UofA, I thought I was entitled to declare myself a fan this year. I mean, I even saved a '97 NCAA Tournament Coca-Cola can featuring our winning score against the Kentucky Wildcats! Surely I wouldn't jinx the team by declaring myself a fan this late in the game, right?

I even bought a cubicle-wall basketball hoop for my desk featuring the Wildcats logo, and faced the derision of many more-basketball-knowledgeable coworkers who've walked past my desk and tried to make a shot in my hoop (at least I sit within dunking range...).

But alas, my bracket is now completely shot, because Arizona lost in the first round this weekend. Figures. I put the jinx on them. I have that affect on teams, I guess...

At least now I can stop pretending I'm a basketball fan and focus all my energies on a real sport... BASEBALL! Speaking of which, it's time to tune in to the D'Backs spring training game today (thank the Lord for MLB.TV).

So go ahead, all you real Arizona fans... blame me. I can take it.

thoughts i thunk on thinking

I think I'm not thinking as much as I used to think. I think I don't have time to think anymore. I wish I had time to think. Not the kind of shallow thinking that simply wastes time during an otherwise uneventful day... but the intentional thinking that requires time to pause and ponder and perceive new thoughts I didn't know I hadn't thunk before. I used to think such thoughts so thoughtfully and thoroughly -- I used to ask big questions of myself, and think long thoughts in response. More than the proverbial "Deep Thoughts" of SNL or Animaniacs fame, these were thoughts on life and love, significance and sacrifice, power and prestige, fun and folly, mirth and meaning, simplicity and solace.... But I think I don't think those thoughts anymore, that I haven't truly thunk those thoughts for a long time. Has the progression of time robbed me of my time to think? Do I just not make the time? What thought possessed me to want to think? I think I want to plumb the depths of my thoughts once again. I think I need to remember how to think...

deming

I stayed the night in Deming, NM on Wednesday. Deming is in the middle of nowhere. Deming is such a small town that it uses several of its precious few billboards to advertise its annual duck races. That's right -- DUCK RACES. Now before you start daydreaming about mallards in jockey stripes and dastardly off-pond-betting scandals, stay with me here.

Deming has three exits on the I-10 corridor of western New Mexico. And it's quite evident that, in addition to the droves of people who undoubtedly plan thei rannual family vacations around the duck meets, the Deming town council decided to make the most of its three exits by taking advantage of saavy roadtrip consumers... like me. Therefore, the cheapest gas is at Exit 81. But all of the food is at Exit 82. And of the several dozen hotels the town offers (a night at the Tumbling Tumbleweed or the Stolen Stagecoach, anyone?), the cheapest are at Exit 85. I realized this evil sightseeing plot (or it would be, if there were anything to see in Deming other than a blue water tower), while driving home from Tucson yesterday and being forced to get off at every single exit in this nowhere-land town. And no matter what exit I used, I could not escape the duck billboards reminding me to come back fro the races.

I then spent the next seven hours in the car wishing I'd stopped in Las Cruces or Socorro instead, and wondering just what kind of kickback the ducks are getting in this plot... 'cause evidently there's something decorous about Deming that I'm too dumb to notice...