Reflection

Echo was a nymph who loved her own voice, and loved to tell stories.  She was very good at it.  No criticism could persuade her.  Hera, who knew she was just distracting her from finding her loose and lusty husband, cursed her so that she would only ever repeat what anyone said to her.  Eventually she just faded away, and now only her voice remains, doomed to ping off of rocks when she hears a voice anywhere. 

If this is a lesson to be learned, than let it be heard by me.  

I asked for feedback from some of my congregation after I preached yesterday.  I pray that I am more like Christ and less like Echo in that I do not love my own voice more than I love to serve the Father.  I pray that the criticism I receive will bolster me in my seeking to be His servant, and not my own to all people.  

On a very side note, Heather and I were on our way home today and there was a girl dancing and doing some beam techniques on the curb.  Of course she had headphones on and was facing the other way... she didn't realize we were there until we were almost beside her.

Its not everyday you see someone doing that kind of stuff outside, let alone on the curb.  She was quite good.  

When was kite flying ever cool?

So, today we had the small family shin-dig for Brieanna's and mine birthday.  Small, family gathering, and a good time.  My family is great.  We get a long, and we're very sarcastic... playful.  Nothing ever mean-spirited, and usually in good taste.  We're a very clever people, full of wit and we're well read, so our thoughts are never original, but so easily placed.  I think we're fun.  

Well, today was a good day, as earlie

r mentioned.  I've been under the weather lately, and I've been incredibly tired.  But the weather was beautiful and Heather and I walked up to my parent's house with the girls.  Beautiful day.

So we flew a kite.

It was Claire's first kite.  Lily's, too, but Claire seemed much more into it.  And by much more into it, I mean, one lasted one minute more than the other.  Altogether, though, there was only about 5 minutes of kite flying involving the girls.  I spent a majority of the time flying it myself and hanging out with a friend of Brieanna's who, now in her 20's, had never flown a kite before.  I don;t know why, but I thought the girls would be more into it.  I was more into it when I was  kid.  I loved it.  But it just did not hold their attention.  

Not at all.

Has kite-flying become post-cool?  Or are my kids just not old enough?

They're certainly cool enough, so it must be the kites.

Of course, the whole thing ended with a whipped-creme fight between Brieanna and I so, like I said, this just shows, we are fun people.

Hypocrite with a sense of irony

I ran across this quote, and thought, Awesome.

"A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought."

~ Dorothy L. Sayers

Bells on!

Today is indeed my birthday.  Indeed.  

I've decided to take a lax view on my birthday, this year.  I appreciate all the kind comments, and all the fond wishes, but I think I'm sticking more to the Mad-hatter on this one: There are 364 un-birthdays.  What makes this day so special that I can not get together with my friends and have cake then?  

I know what you're thinking: Grinch, a heart 8 sizes too small.

But I would rather have no excuse to get together than what I think would be a forced one.  Not forced on their part, but mine, mind you.  Further, it is not my birthday as much as it is a reminder to me that I was born with a purpose, and needed Him to fill my lungs, just like Adam.  I am just like Adam in my birth.  I do not fully live without His breath.  And yet I turn away.  I still turn away. 

Here is my reason for celebrating today, if not any day:  my new life in Christ and the opportunity granted by all to enter into this community with the Father.  May my life, from start to finish, be no more than the hopeful lived out experience of such a promise fulfilled.

I had one such opportunity today, and I thank God for allowing me this on my birthday, because it just affirms my want to decrease.  I entered a conversation with someone who works at CD high today.  She asked me major, and where I was going to school.  This will either cause people to, a majority of the time, say pleasantries and relate their story and where they go to church.  Or, it causes questions.  This person had questions, mostly from what she had been reading ( I really think it stemmed more from her watching way too much of the history channel, based on her own comments).  I answered her questions patiently, and with great care and thought.  Apparently, I answered them a little too well, praise God, because as I started to run for the classroom she followed me, with more questions to be answered.  Seriously, she followed me down a hall, up a flight of stairs, and down another hallway until we reached the door, where, thankfully, she stopped.  I told her that I would gladly talk to her another time about this, and she assured me that she would think of more questions.

I'm praying that I'm not the only one who can answer the questions in her life.

It was great, and I thank God that He reminds me why I was born.  To this end I was purposed, and crafted.  To point back to Him.  To glorify His name, wherever I am, however I can.  

364 un-birthdays.  Give me no reason to celebrate, and I will be there, bells on!

I'm a sucker for a kind week

What a good week it has been.  I know I haven't "noted" anything in a while, because, I've been busy thinking about stuff.  You might say, Warwick, I think, too, but I still talk to people.  

This is true.  And I in no way mean to discredit your musings.  I'd like to hear more of them, actually.  You know you can comment these, right?

But, John died, and many of you contacted me and let me know your thoughts and feelings and care.  Thank-you.

The week went on, and I just had a lot of papers that I had to work on.  A lot of discussions on justification and sanctification, topics not a whole lot of you even care about, let alone want me talk to you about.

This was not the only thing holding my mind captive...

American Idol, American Idol, American Idol... dark siren, oh how you continue to make me step back at ponder at you.

First, they sing a Hillsong anthem.  Probably their biggest song ever, was sung by the remaining contestants.  Man, was it weird.  Adn then they sang it twice!  Not the Rent song, which was a big sigh from me... its so old and tired.  But there they were... and I've read Josh Harris's blog about the whole thing and I'll leave it at that.  http://www.joshharris.com/2008/04/inside_scoop_on_shout_to_the_l.php

And to further complicate matters, one national has been ousted.  The Australian, St. Johns, is gone. 

Shocking.  Absolutely shocking.  I really thought I had a chance.  But I was wrong, I guess.  Well, there is only one national left, the Irish, and we'll see how well she fares.  I know think, however, that David, the kid, will probably win.  

But man, what a week.  Sent me into deep cranial cave.  Not to mention, I had a really hard subbing week.  Monday was absolutely terrible.  Absolutely.  It did get better throughout the week, but I likened monday to being beaten.  I was exhausted and felt as though I had no power and no control.  Terrible.

But a highlight, and I have no idea why this was going on, but on my way to class tonight, I saw a woman drive past me with a towel, a beach towel, wrapped around her head and shoulders, and, and, a hat.  Oh, and a cigarette.  

Awesome.

The Death of a Close Friend

This past saturday, John McCaddy died. And it is tragic.

He fell, he did not jump. It is tragic that his fall came from the hands of a loved one, but it was an accident, so what can you do. The offer has been made to fix him, but, I dunno. I think maybe its just time.

Oh John, all the good times we had. I remember when we first got you. I'm not sure from whose house you were taken, hence the reason you are still around. You remind me of all the crazy times I used to have, all the good, clean, and otherwise exceeding amounts of fun we would have. Oh John, what fun we had.

I remember going to City Island with you and Jen and Christy. It was then that we discovered your love for house music.

I remember who tragic the passing of your other comrades was. Captain Pudwash's untimely death by burning. The pig-faced girl being thrown from the moving vehicle as Lael and Jess hung on for dear life. You will be missed, but you join the ranks of beloved gnomes who have gone the way of the stone pile.

Remember when you were kidnapped at camp? How I fretted and longed for your return! And when you came back, what a joyful banquet we had in your honor! We took you out to eat, and you even went canoeing with us! Oh, you did enjoy camp!

All the Messiah stories! You were always the best listener! How many weird and awkward conversations you overheard while in our living room at the apartments. You were loved by all. You knew how to treat the ladies, and we all learned from your winning outfit.

You were with me along my many moves. From my house to Dan's in Enola. Then to the chilly times at Locust Lane. You even came with Heather and I on our Honeymoon... you did enjoy the beach! And you didn't mind the long car ride home!

How I'll miss your company and insight as we toiled together in the study as I worked on papers. I could always count on you to give me a smile as I worked into the night.

Oh, John, lover of House Music, first rate gnome from a forgotten yard, you will be missed.

RIP, buddy.