Moonlighting

It happened 100 years ago today. 1 part tragedy. 1 part triumph. Depending on the perspective...or lack thereof. Regardless of opinion, the illustration is in view of a call & the obedience to it.


They say he got his nickname from his being 'as fast as moonlight'. His statistics are 0 filled & don't leave much of a trace of his existence in the game. It was as if he were never even there, but here we are 100 years later with his career or lack thereof as the topic.

The 1 thing that Moonlight understood that left the rest baffled, was that he had a calling. His faithfulness to it left him regret-free & the perfect example for us to follow. Do we grasp the brass ring, or is our duty defined in a way that only we can see, touch, feel & understand.

He'll wipe every tear from their eyes.



I've heard this text used to proclaim that the tears in need of attention will be of remorse & regret over what was not done after the fact when nothing can be done. Whether this be correct or not it certainly gives more desperation to the question which rises again of the call, the true call & the vital importance of answering in the affirmative.

Although Moonlight's baseball career lasted less than 5 minutes in the bigs sans an ab, he impacted countless masses as a medical doctor with a 50-year practice. Lack of proper perspective would lead many to relent the tragedy of a career lost. Archibald instead relishes a calling fulfilled...

"Son, if I'd only got to be a doctor for five minutes, now that would have been a tragedy."

On a Curve

I'd like to think that I've come to a place in my walk that I've gotten harder & harder to offend. I'd also like to think that this is/should be an enviable goal of like-minded believers everywhere. After all, how can we be the torch-bearers of the Light that extinguishes & overcomes the darkness of this fallen world if we are constantly unsettled by the very offensive nature of it?

This brings to mind 1 of the last things that has stuck with me when contemplating the ideal of offensiveness. Now, perspective has arrived on the scene & I sit & wonder if I even have a case for offense. It doesn't really matter in the long run, but I can't help but ponder the question.

I was perusing blogs on the net, as I often do from time to time, when I happened upon the questionable articles of offense. They proposed the idea that, & I'm paraphrasing somewhat here, that fundies were spiritual cretins who only happen to skim the surface of the concept of God, grace, redemption & all that that entails, while certain others of the family of faith (i.e. liberated catholics, episcopalians, methodist, etc.) aren't satisfied to remain there, but long to plumb the depths of an amazingly & largely unknown God of creation. As a searcher & self-proclaimed thinker, I wanted to cry foul & through rocks, but after some time, have come to wonder the same.

A great friend & brother of mine sent me a favorite text of his & it hasn't taken long to arrive at the same questions of depth when it comes to the faith & our differences in denominations. I'm now at a point that it doesn't really bother me all that much, but it has gotten my attention. What if the simplicity & beauty that is the gospel story that I've known for a great while is only the tip of the iceberg?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not an advocate of becoming drunk from the well spring of knowledge of the One through metaphysics or any other means, but I can't help but beg the question the burns from within. Why the great disparity among the faithful? Are the fundies really the short bus riders on the slow trek to the Almighty who'll not only have to wipe away the tears from their eyes, but the drool from their mouths also?

These aren't my questions. They're just given voice by, hopefully, a former simpleton that unearthed them in an attempt to dig. So, does anybody have any answers?

Don't worry, although there may be right & wrong answers, I do believe that we may quite possibly be graded on a curve...

Love is the Answer

Last Sunday night I was longing to go see a man, that as little as 5 years ago, was incapable of appreciating, much less admiring. I like to be able to say with good conscience that this is/was due to the culture that I just so happened to be raised in. I'm not so sure that that lessens my culpability.

Even though my culture may have told me that Buck was/is only 3/5th man or human or whatever, I still can't help but thinking/feeling that I should have known better. Where was/is my 'age of accountability'? Did I just reach it now?

I'd like to say yes.

Guilt provides a different answer.

"Good blacks don't cry."

I leaned into Amy & had to ask just what in the world it was that I'd just heard. I'd just come off a 48-hour span of work/play that included only 2 hours of sleep, but I at least thought that my hearing would still work.

"Good blacks don't cry."

She confirmed it. I haven't been able to get those words out of my head since. It's been 8 days now.

The paper the next day brought some since of clarity, along with more knowledge.


"People always say to me, 'Don't you hate people for what they did to your folk?'" O'Neil said. "I say, 'Naw, man, I never learned to hate.'

"I hate cancer and AIDS and what happened on Sept. 11, 2001. But I can't hate God's creatures. Love is the answer. The greatest thing in all my life is loving you."

I had gone to the park Sunday to escape reality for a few hours w/my family in tow. Buck had just introduced me to his. A man that I once was practically incapable of liking due to his amount of melanin & my ignorance, had/has just become one of my heroes.

What an amazing turn of events...

Wasted Week

It was the best of weeks, it was the worst of weeks. After the weekend that preceded it, merely surviving would seem to be the mark of it's success. I've accomplished nothing & yet I've achieved much.

I've skipped workouts. I've missed scheduled readings & quiet times. I've slept way too much & done way too little.

By & large the week has been a dismal failure.

By & large the week has been the best of my life.

I've fallen asleep in the arms of my boy, my friend, my pal, the physical embodiment & epitome of the love for my wife at least once & sometimes twice everyday. I've seen eternity in the excitement of Cassi's eyes as we've rambled through the house without a care in the world. I've fed Ali bite-size ice, much like a mother bird would her young & she's fed me popcorn & unconditional love.

Yep.

This weekend has been the most uneventful & unaccomplished that I've spent in quite sometime.

I've breathed the Eternal at the pace of life. The life that He's entrusted me with & have treasured every second of it. I'll never be able to retrieve it, nor would I want to.

I've wasted the week....so how 'bout you?

Bumpers Distance

I was thinking of cars on my commute home yesterday. How we all move in the same veins & arteries of the organism that is the city, but we don't ever really acknowledge each other besides who may be getting our spot at the light or who may be imposing there will through their wheels on ours.

I thought how even after we arrive at our appointed destinations, that we never really get out of our cars. Sure, we may roll down the window & appear as if we've invested something in another by dropping the volume a tad, but have we really? Or are we oblivious to our suv shaped attire that keeps the rest of humanity at a bumpers distance?

What idiots we are! How ashamed I am at my very ignorance. I've done nothing but run on & on about genuine authenticity & the importance of community, all the while I sit in my Avy w/1 finger on the xm radio volume & the other on the wheel.

Somebody cut me off w/verbiage unbecoming? No problem...I just hit the nob/gas/wheel/window & they're nothing but distant specks dancing in my rearview. Another sit across the intersection giving token credence w/hardly cracked windows & obvious indifference given wings by alpine? Fine...I'm comforted by knowing that the light's not red forever.

Unfortunately or fortunately for me, I've been praying for more wrecks lately. Maybe, just maybe, the sounds of screeching tires, crunching metal &/or shattering glass could/would jar us from our all too precious commute. That is, just long enough for us to make it back to the dealer...

even now
the world is bleedin'
but feelin' just fine
all numb in our castle
where we're always free to choose
never free enough to find
i wish somethin' would break
cuz we're runnin' out of time

God in Kind

The conquest for conscience is ongoing
Tho some only appear to be weekend warriors at best
They stumble through 6 & fold on 7 as merely a jest

Is this to be our corporate fate as the days draw nigh
To haphazardly appear, while we sigh from our negligent efforts
While a universe dies?

I for 1 refuse to concede & dare not relent
Too great a price was paid to redeem this worn tent
To acquiesce is the cowards bent

What say you as you read this pitch?
Are you warm & smug & content
To wallow in the filth of your own indifference?


I long for the warmth of that all-encompassing embrace
To strive for greatness, not as the world would see
But 1 that brings a smile to my Creator's face

I long for the greatness that makes no sense of the quantifiable
To make the material nothing short of laughable
By embracing the only One that can make these things capable

A Garrison finish cannot be my fate
The negotiation of my lot is not to be achieved late
May it be said that 'he came early & stayed late'

Anyone else weary of the involutionless rhetoric?
Where is the provocation to action
The stirring of hearts, brewing of passions & the love that pricks?

If you have it, may you never let her loose
For those who don't, may we rest not til we find
The Community that is our God in kind

Ready or Not

the Minister had resorted to the comprehensive and sagacious expedient of not attempting to conceal it at all.

The inevitable approach of Arlene sentenced me & my crew to a day of house play & overall nothingness this past Saturday. It started uneventful enough, but ended with the knowledge of time well spent & lessons learned. My 3 tutors are an unrelenting sort & are on task all the time, if I would just slow often enough to listen & to learn.

We were in our 9th or 10th round of hide-n-go seek when it happened. I chose a new spot in Cam's room behind the new (to him) queen size bed that we moved in there this week. While Cam & Cassi were busy searching for me in all my usual haunts I awaited the shrieks of surprise when they eventually find me...but not this time.

I listened carefully & finally heard the footfalls that accompany our game, but it wasn't from who I expected. It seems that little Ali (1 yr old) had ventured off on her own to find her dad this time. I nearly burst inside as I watched from underneath the bedside against the wall as she uttered, as only she can, unintelligible phrases in seeking her father. As she peered inside the empty closet to seek me I couldn't help but call her name softly enough to draw her attention & not to alert her elder siblings as to my where-a-bouts.

She squealed with glee as she whirled to find me there behind the bed all along. I called her to me & we hid in anonymity from the other searchers as we celebrated her discovery. Her excitement uncontainable, it wasn't long before the oldest found us out giggling & making much merriment behind that old bed.

Ali did it! She found me 1st! I had to exclaim to the others when it later dawned upon me.

The Almighty is the same with us as His children. We ramble off looking for Him where we think that He should/would/could be & all to often He's there in plain view for us to find if we would but slow & seek with a pure heart & ears wide. It's become more apparent than ever that I've been seeking in a rush to all the places that I think that He should be & I've missed Him by & large.

I pray that He would allow me the ability to slow & seek earnestly with a heart that's pure & ears wide. I miss that warm embrace that is the very source of joy in my life & makes it worth living. I long to giggle with Him again behind that old bed.

1...

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10...

READY OR NOT...

HERE I COME!!!

Bobbing Unicorns

A few weeks ago I sat & listened how temptation was greatest when this particular speaker was weakest. I've come to find that this couldn't be further from the truth for me. In fact, this is the exact opposite for me.

I'm at my greatest spiritual capacity when physically I'm running on fumes. I'm not really sure why this is, but I've got some good suspicions. It just seems to me that when I'm physically strong & well rested I tend to rely on my own abilities & talents, but when I'm bushed, beaten & broken, I have no choice but to rely on another beyond myself to sustain me.

I wish that this were my guiding motivation, but I'm afraid that another factor comes into play here. I'm not exactly the best at resting & relaxing without having some sense of guilt come in to play for doing so. I've got this screwed up idea that I've always got to be active & accomplishing things to just make the day a successful 1.

Lately I've noticed that regiments & routine rule my day to the degree that if I don't get in my weight training or the paper read or my daily quiet time, that the day is totally ruined. In my mind I'm constantly fighting this battle of busyness. The frustrating thing of it all is that I know what's happening, yet I can't make myself stop. I want off the merry-go-round, but can't seem to let go of the damned unicorn that's bobbing up & down.

Working a swing shift of 7-on, 7-off hasn't been the most conducive shift considering my issues as of late. More work would solve the problem, but that's not a legitimate answer. I think that I just might be going nuts.

Any suggestions?

KOTH: How To Fire a Rifle Without Really Trying

All Jesus did that day was tell stories--a long storytelling afternoon.

Episode #14 (rank #77) 9/21/1997



When Bobby discovers a talent for target shooting, Hank thinks this could be his chance to bond with his son. The only problem: Hank can't shoot. Ashamed to admit that he can't use a gun properly, Hank refuses to enter the father-son fun-shoot with Bobby.

Quotes:

Dale: Guns don't kill people, the government does.

Hank: The NRA is a Washington, D.C. based organization. Are you telling me you support Washington D.C.? (Everyone looks at Dale)
Dale: That's a thinker.

Dale: "Let me ask you this: a guy breaks into your house, but you don't have a gun; how are you going to shoot him?"

Boomhauer: "I tell you what man, that dang ole NRA's our rights man. The, the insurance together with dismemberment mie like that. You get like 20-thousand dollars just for beh, your arm blows off, man."

Bobby: "Then why doesn't he want to shoot with me in the tournament? Is he afraid I'm gonna embarrass him?"
Peggy: "Well... it must be, because he loves guns."

Hank: "Some times people choke, Bobby. We just gotta be proud that God took the time to give us a fault."

Sports Psychologist: "Imagine the dart flying from your gun to the target. Don't pull the trigger until you can see it."
Hank (while aiming, has flashback of a menacing Cotton): "(Shaking) Huh, whenever I start to shoot -- even aim -- I, I remember me as a boy, My Dad behind me yelling, and I always let him down. I was so scared of..."
Sports Psychologist: "Hank please, you're wasting valuable session time."

(Announcer at shooting tournament) Announcer: "The format for today is the same as last year: start with the tandem shoot; then the quick draw; followed by the pretend-to-be-sleeping-grab-the-loaded-gun-under-the-bed-and-shoot-a-figure-in-the-shadows..."

Hank: "Look at that, we're in second place."
Luanne: "Good news! The McKays just came out of ‘The Gauntlet,' and the younger one blew away an entire picnicking family!"

Cotton: "Sorry I'm late. I had to stop by the wax museum again and give the finger to FDR."

Analysis:

GOD, slow to get angry and huge in loyal love,
forgiving iniquity and rebellion and sin;
Still, never just whitewashing sin.
But extending the fallout of parents' sins
to children into the third,
even the fourth generation.

Even though we're saved by grace through faith & are redeemed thoroughly, past sin has consequences that often remain & can persist much longer than we could/would anticipate. Cotton did such a number on Hank as a kid, that his future relationship w/his own son if effected by it. When you factor in the ideals & how we interact w/our heavenly Father are drawn from those of our earthly 1's, relational sin carries with it much more predominance.

Milk...It's What's For Worship

I'm now more convinced than ever that there's an aspect to the very nature of our worship that's yet to be fully discussed. It has to deal w/the whole style issue as it pertains to the musical points of our services. After pondering this for some time, I think that I may have found the crux of the issue.

I'd like to address the use of contemporary praise choruses & would propose that it's abhorrence by some folks goes deeper than just not being their 'style'. My dad calls them 7/11 songs (7 words x 11 times) & at 1st I thought that he was against them for reasons rooted in generational differences, but I would propose that this may have very little to do with it. The repetitive nature of these songs is the key ingredient, I believe, in the why or why not these songs are embraced or disregarded by some.

If we could but look beyond the issue of style I think that we'll find songs that, for the most part, are unimaginative & worst of all, boring. This is only edified by the constant repetition & lack of punch in the accompanying verses. Worship should engage & mystify not put to sleep.

"That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence--

I don't know about you, but some of these choruses allow for my mind to remain disengaged & wondering if this is the best that we can do. Far too often I'm afraid that we do a poor job of engaging our intellect in worship as well as our other senses. This should concern us greatly, but I'm afraid that most don't even believe there to be any thing wrong with the status quo.


Lately, I've found that I'm lead into a deeper, more personal time of worship through the works of U2 or Live than I am Michael W. & David Crowder. They challenge me to think critically & engage me on levels that I don't reach on Sundays & this concerns me deeply. Right now, I'm at a lose.

I don't proclaim spiritual giantism status by any means, but I've just got this gut feeling that a lot of what we use today is just too dumbed down to really be effective for some. In fact, the more I ponder, I can't help but equate most of our 'praise' ditties to milk, while there is meat yet to be served up. This opinion could be totally off, but I'm not so sure. I just think that we've focused so much dialogue on style that we've missed the true basis for rejection by some. Not too many adults would consider a glass of milk to be a meal, so why should they be filled by remedial repetition?

They're not.

Are you?

Same Ol' Wheel

No sense in re-inventing the wheel...

The boys from Sweden have captured the reverberations of my heart of late...


& I thought that they were only good for making those red gummy fish...

Silence Lyrics
by Blindside[ Download Blindside Ringtones ] [ Send to a friend ]

They won't see
The fire you have lit inside of me
They look up to the stars
And wonder where you might be
They look up without realizing
That they're standing right there in the palm of your hand
I can't explain or understand
I just love You

It's common knowledge
That you've been dead for a while
It's well known that the cross is only a burden
With pains and trials
But then again how come my shoes are so light
How come I can walk for miles
And still just love You

So I think I'll stay
Caught up in a silent prayer
I believe in silence
Our hearts speak the same word
So why don't we just walk along
The shoreline with a silent song
Cause I believe in Silence
Our hearts speak the same word

We have to prove
That our love is real over and over again
But let them think what they want
I know it will never end
Because I know where it began
And my heart still heart still pounds twice as fast
Whenever you walk by

Cause I still love you

So I think I'll stay...

What's Your World View?

Alright, alright I stole this from Steve, but I really just wanted to share my results. Take your survey here. You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational. Cultural Creative 94% Fundamentalist 63% Postmodernist 56% Romanticist 50% Existentialist 38% Modernist 13% Materialist 6% Idealist 6% What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com

Pseudo-plagiarism...it's the thought that counts...right?

Found this article in the Ooze newsletter...

sounded like I shoulda' wrote it...

I'm so jealous...



ah hell, u might as well pick up Spencer's book if you hadn't already...

it's worth it...