I never knew how tough it really was for poor Darth.
Brush the Teeth | Creative Photo | The Design Inspiration
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Mario for a New Generation
This is more fun then I thought it would be. It answers the question "What would Mario be like if he lived in the USSR?".
in reference to: thepeoplesmario.swf (application/x-shockwave-flash Object) (view on Google Sidewiki)Saturday, October 10, 2009
Cathy's Broken Ankle the Real Story.
I know that I said the official story was that Cathy
broke her ankle in a bar fight. The truth is she got tangled up in and tripped over a chair. I realize that sounds kind of boring. We got that bar fight cover story idea from the radiologist at the hospital. It sounds very exciting but I fear that it may have hurt Cathy's reputation. I mean what kind of a person gets in a bar fight?
I remember as a kid every good TV show and movie had a bar fight because fighting was in and bar fights were cool. If I had said that Cathy broke her ankle in a a bar fight and this was the 60's or 7o's then everyone would have said "Of course she did. How else would a person break her ankle?"
Now-a-days (I have always wanted to say that) bar fights just aren't that common so the automatic response is. "Ewww! What kind of person would start a bar fight?" So I think that people may have gotten the wrong picture of Cathy. Therefore, I must report that she is not the kind of person that would hang out in bars either waiting for or starting bar fights. Sad to say she is the type that would simply get tangled in a chair and break her ankle in three places.
If you want to read the full account then check out Cathy's story. She tells it way better and includes all the gory details in her blog at http://insidecat.blogspot.com/.
Other links of interest:
Underwater Bar Fight
Inn-Fighting Designer's Notes
broke her ankle in a bar fight. The truth is she got tangled up in and tripped over a chair. I realize that sounds kind of boring. We got that bar fight cover story idea from the radiologist at the hospital. It sounds very exciting but I fear that it may have hurt Cathy's reputation. I mean what kind of a person gets in a bar fight?I remember as a kid every good TV show and movie had a bar fight because fighting was in and bar fights were cool. If I had said that Cathy broke her ankle in a a bar fight and this was the 60's or 7o's then everyone would have said "Of course she did. How else would a person break her ankle?"
Now-a-days (I have always wanted to say that) bar fights just aren't that common so the automatic response is. "Ewww! What kind of person would start a bar fight?" So I think that people may have gotten the wrong picture of Cathy. Therefore, I must report that she is not the kind of person that would hang out in bars either waiting for or starting bar fights. Sad to say she is the type that would simply get tangled in a chair and break her ankle in three places.
If you want to read the full account then check out Cathy's story. She tells it way better and includes all the gory details in her blog at http://insidecat.blogspot.com/.Other links of interest:
Underwater Bar Fight
Inn-Fighting Designer's Notes
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Friday, August 21, 2009
Breaking the Silence of a Quiet Summer
Image via Wikipedia
What a summer it has been. I know its not over yet but it is getting closer. For my friends in Alaska it is over actually. I think they started school this week.
Usually I try to blog about something introspective or deep (as deep as my shallow mind can go) and all summer long I just wasn't feeling it. So rather than forcing something deep or remaining silent I think I just want to write an update.
On May 19th I resigned as Youth Pastor of Wasilla Bible Church and within a month Cathy and I were on the road to Oregon. I am so thankful for all of our friends who helped us as we packed and loaded the truck and headed out. I will never forget the last hour in Wasilla. I had mentioned to Patsy Inks that we were going to get a Crazy Moose sandwich on the way out of town. When we got there all the Inks (except Paul) were there waiting for us to have lunch with us and say good bye one last time. I really appreciated that.
The trip from there was long. That night we camped in Fairbanks. The next morning we decided to see how far up the Dalton Highway we could get and made it all the way to our goal - The Arctic Circle. There were very few people around and I didn't have anything that would repel or kill a bear so we decided to sleep in our car. BIG Mistake. We should have put up the tent. The tent would have been far more effective at keeping out the mosquittos. The car was hot and stuffy (it was about 73 at the arctic circle that day) so we needed to crack the windows. That meant that a horde of mosquittos laid siege to our car. Many got in. It was a sleepless night and the sun barely went down (it was two nights before solstice). The next day we traveled to delta junction to begin our trip down the Al-can.
We actually spent 8 days on the Al-can. We took our time as saw some really amazing scenery. We say 13 black bear, 3 elk, 4 moose, 15 bunnies, 31 Bison, 5 bald eagles, 1 linx and 3 brown bears (aka grizzly to non-Alaskans). The brown bears were a small family out for a stroll along the highway. Just a mom and her two cubs. Probably the most dangerous situation a person can face in the wild. We stayed in the car. We didn't see what happened to the nice stupid lady who got out of her car to take pictures of them.
We ended our trip wit a day in Victoria BC. Then we dashed through Washington in a couple hours and made it home in the middle of the night where our son greeted us with bleary eyes. It was really strange being back in Oregon at first. This was the place I had left and did not expect to move back to any time soon. Yet here we are living in the same house we left a year ago. Things have changed. I have made a ton of friends in Alaska who I miss very much.
I have spent the summer working with (or for) Cathy getting the yard and house in shape. We have replaced the back door of the house, dug up a couple garden beds, hauled dirt, hauled wood chips and pulled up hundreds of nasty black berry bushes that were taking over the yard. I have spent several hundred hours looking for work with very little success.
I have managed to land a couple temporary jobs. I am doing some occasional contract work for a translation company. I'm not translating just doing the desk top publishing part of the process. I start Monday on a job that should take a couple weeks at the company where my son Chris works. I will be helping them with a huge inventory project.
Tomorrow we are throwing my son a HUGE birthday bash. He is turning 21 on Monday so we are inviting all of his friends over to hang out, play some games, drink lots of root beer, and celebrate his special day. I am excited.
God continues to meet all of our needs. I know that he is with us. I have been reminded that this life which I call mine isn't really. It isn't my life it belongs to Christ and therefore it is not really about me. I think I begin to turn toward depression and despair every time I stray into thinking that this is my life and its all about me. But if I simply relinquish ownership to Jesus and let him live through me every change is an opportunity, every trial is doable, every disappointment has some deeper meaning and every heartache is consoled by a savior who loves me. That is pretty cool. So these days I am trying to live by my life verse.
Galatians 2:20. -- “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (New American Standard Bible : 1995 Update)
Usually I try to blog about something introspective or deep (as deep as my shallow mind can go) and all summer long I just wasn't feeling it. So rather than forcing something deep or remaining silent I think I just want to write an update.
On May 19th I resigned as Youth Pastor of Wasilla Bible Church and within a month Cathy and I were on the road to Oregon. I am so thankful for all of our friends who helped us as we packed and loaded the truck and headed out. I will never forget the last hour in Wasilla. I had mentioned to Patsy Inks that we were going to get a Crazy Moose sandwich on the way out of town. When we got there all the Inks (except Paul) were there waiting for us to have lunch with us and say good bye one last time. I really appreciated that.
The trip from there was long. That night we camped in Fairbanks. The next morning we decided to see how far up the Dalton Highway we could get and made it all the way to our goal - The Arctic Circle. There were very few people around and I didn't have anything that would repel or kill a bear so we decided to sleep in our car. BIG Mistake. We should have put up the tent. The tent would have been far more effective at keeping out the mosquittos. The car was hot and stuffy (it was about 73 at the arctic circle that day) so we needed to crack the windows. That meant that a horde of mosquittos laid siege to our car. Many got in. It was a sleepless night and the sun barely went down (it was two nights before solstice). The next day we traveled to delta junction to begin our trip down the Al-can.
We actually spent 8 days on the Al-can. We took our time as saw some really amazing scenery. We say 13 black bear, 3 elk, 4 moose, 15 bunnies, 31 Bison, 5 bald eagles, 1 linx and 3 brown bears (aka grizzly to non-Alaskans). The brown bears were a small family out for a stroll along the highway. Just a mom and her two cubs. Probably the most dangerous situation a person can face in the wild. We stayed in the car. We didn't see what happened to the nice stupid lady who got out of her car to take pictures of them.
We ended our trip wit a day in Victoria BC. Then we dashed through Washington in a couple hours and made it home in the middle of the night where our son greeted us with bleary eyes. It was really strange being back in Oregon at first. This was the place I had left and did not expect to move back to any time soon. Yet here we are living in the same house we left a year ago. Things have changed. I have made a ton of friends in Alaska who I miss very much.
I have spent the summer working with (or for) Cathy getting the yard and house in shape. We have replaced the back door of the house, dug up a couple garden beds, hauled dirt, hauled wood chips and pulled up hundreds of nasty black berry bushes that were taking over the yard. I have spent several hundred hours looking for work with very little success.I have managed to land a couple temporary jobs. I am doing some occasional contract work for a translation company. I'm not translating just doing the desk top publishing part of the process. I start Monday on a job that should take a couple weeks at the company where my son Chris works. I will be helping them with a huge inventory project.
Tomorrow we are throwing my son a HUGE birthday bash. He is turning 21 on Monday so we are inviting all of his friends over to hang out, play some games, drink lots of root beer, and celebrate his special day. I am excited.
God continues to meet all of our needs. I know that he is with us. I have been reminded that this life which I call mine isn't really. It isn't my life it belongs to Christ and therefore it is not really about me. I think I begin to turn toward depression and despair every time I stray into thinking that this is my life and its all about me. But if I simply relinquish ownership to Jesus and let him live through me every change is an opportunity, every trial is doable, every disappointment has some deeper meaning and every heartache is consoled by a savior who loves me. That is pretty cool. So these days I am trying to live by my life verse.
Galatians 2:20. -- “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (New American Standard Bible : 1995 Update)
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Monday, July 27, 2009
Check this out
Check out my recently published content on AC:
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Friday, June 19, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
A Bend in the Road
If the Christian life is a journey then the road we travel is often hard and always uniquely our own. 
Cathy and I will be traveling the Alcan highway this month as we make our way from our home in Wasilla to our home in Beaverton. The highway is legendary. In the "old days" it was quite an adventure to travel the thousands of miles of gravel and dirt and sometimes pavement. Now the gravel and dirt are mostly gone but it is still an adventure. Cut right through the heart of some pretty rough and very remote wilderness it can still be dangerous. Even so, we are really looking forward to the journey.
But, I don't think that the road we travel as Christians is like the Alcan. For one thing, even though the Alcan is very remote, somtimes a sturggle and sometimes thrilling, it is still a highway. Someone has blazed the trail for us. In the case of the Alcan it was a couple of guys on motorcycles in the 30's. Someone followed them and planned the path of the road. Workers followed and cleared a very rough access road then more workers came with bigger equipment and widened and smoothed out the dirt path. Finally, over the past 40 years, others have come and paved the road making it usable by thousands. And every year workers move up and down the highway repairing cracks, potholes and frost heaves.
All these people have worked so hard just so Cathy and I will have a realitively safe journey through the rugged wildeness (awfully nice of them.)
But the journey we are on as Christians is much more...private and...unique. The path is ours alone and although we may meet others along the way and even journey side by side with others from time to time we can honestly say that noone has journied the road before. Actually one person has. Jesus.
Psalm 139 paints a beautiful picture of what it is like to walk with Jesus. I know that ususally you think of Psalm 23 when you think of the spiritaul journey and that is also a very lovely picture of the journey, but 139 shows how we are not alone on this journey. It talks about how our God goes before us and leads us down the path. At first the picture is of God as a scout in the distance makeing sure the road is safe, then it shifts and shows that he is right in front of us protecting us. At the same time he is right behind us protecting us and moving us forward. We are hemmed in on all sides by God. He not only choose the road for us but he also had cleared it so we can see the path. And just in case we are worried about having to journey alone, Psalm 139 also paints a picture of the impossibility of ever getting away from God even if we try to stray.
The path God leads us down leads through a vast array of landscapes. Lush green meadows, dark valleys, high glorius vistas and deserts so dry we'd like to fall over and die. Yet we do not walk alone so even if we fall we are gently picked up and put on our feet again. And when we would like to stop and just rest a little bit longer in lush and beautiful places Jesus gently urges us forward, often toward harship, dissapointment and loss. I beleive he wants us to find the beauty in those places as well. The beauty is there, if only in the loving eyes or our Savior who sometimes has to carry us for a stretch.
My own journey has recently led to a hairpin turn (Cathy's word for it). At first I was confused by it and then I was even heart sick. Why would God lead me to a place with so much beauty and potential only to turn around and head back. Yet as time passes and I prepare to set out down the Alcan, the place where this hairpin curve leades, I am hopeful. At the very least I know that I will not be alone. My saviour is at my side. My defendor is behind me, my Lord is before me leading me on.
Ironically my last talk to the students at Wasilla Bible Church was about the journey. I wanted them to know that the road ahead was amazing and hard. I wanted them know, before some of them set out on thier own, that the journey was grim
My prayer is that you will see our saviour leading you down your path. Perhaps we will run into each other along the way... just around the bend in the road.
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Sunday, May 24, 2009
Change
I usually like change. In fact I am what some might call a "change agent." I love looking to the future as I evaluate the present. I ask "Are things now as good as they can be someday?" I want to reach a brighter tomorrow even if it means making tough changes that seemingly turn a blind eye to the past. I realize that I am fairly rare in this view point. Most people hate change and work hard to protect the past. They look to the past as they evaluate the present and ask "Are things now as good as they used to be?"
But when change involves people it often involves pain and sorrow. That is what makes change so hard. Right now I am going through a huge and painful change that involves people that I care a great deal about. My heart is breaking because I now see that the bright tomorrow I was reaching for with them will never be. Instead, I will move on to something else and they will be guided by other hands.
Frankly, it is this kind of change that I could do without. No one likes this kind of change. It feels like a death or a divorce and the grieving process is just as real as if it were a death or divorce. So far I have gone through shock, sadness, anger, bargaining and just a twinge of denial. I know all this is healthy but that does not make any of it any more bearable. The truth is I hate this change from the core of my being.
So I am forced to move forward with my head down and my heart hurting as I plod into a future that is dark and foggy. I would be entirely lost if it were not for the hand that I cling to. The hand of my Lord. The one who called me. The one who brought me here in the first place and will never leave me or fore sake me; Jesus Christ. Through him I will get through this impossible time. With his help I will mange to emerge from the fog at the proper time and see the bright future once again.
This darkness will pass. And even if I let go of my savior's hand I will still get through it because he will never let go of my hand.
Romans 8:38-39 -- For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
But when change involves people it often involves pain and sorrow. That is what makes change so hard. Right now I am going through a huge and painful change that involves people that I care a great deal about. My heart is breaking because I now see that the bright tomorrow I was reaching for with them will never be. Instead, I will move on to something else and they will be guided by other hands.
Frankly, it is this kind of change that I could do without. No one likes this kind of change. It feels like a death or a divorce and the grieving process is just as real as if it were a death or divorce. So far I have gone through shock, sadness, anger, bargaining and just a twinge of denial. I know all this is healthy but that does not make any of it any more bearable. The truth is I hate this change from the core of my being.
So I am forced to move forward with my head down and my heart hurting as I plod into a future that is dark and foggy. I would be entirely lost if it were not for the hand that I cling to. The hand of my Lord. The one who called me. The one who brought me here in the first place and will never leave me or fore sake me; Jesus Christ. Through him I will get through this impossible time. With his help I will mange to emerge from the fog at the proper time and see the bright future once again.
This darkness will pass. And even if I let go of my savior's hand I will still get through it because he will never let go of my hand.
Romans 8:38-39 -- For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Consistantly Inconsistant.
Okay, so I have been trying to be a good blogger for a couple of years now. I like blogging. It feels good to know that I get to write a bunch of stuff the no one reads even though it is out there in the public. I find it hard to be consistant about it though. Actually that is not surprising being that consistancey has never been one of my strong suits.
I hate the rut of consistancy. It feels monotonous and boring. I can remember, back in 1976, when I first moved to Oregon with my family we lived with my Great Uncle for several months. Every night he would watch a little TV after dinner and then at precisely 10:00 he would announce that it was time to go to bed. Then he would proceed to close up the house and march us all off to bed. Even my Mom. It was really strange to me. He never strayed from it. Not on weekends. Not on holidays. Not ever.
It was a bit of a rut.
So since that time I have avoided ruts in my life. Until it dawned on me recently that I have indeed fallen into a rather large rut -- the rut of being consistantly inconsistant.
Now what am I going to do?
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Monday, February 02, 2009
STAR TREK is Coming! Yeah Baby.
Image via Wikipedia
But now the new movie set to release in May 2009 should welcome yet another generation into the geeky universe we call Star Trek. I am pumped. I am elated. The trailer looks good.
Image via Wikipedia
Don't Let me down J.J. Abrams.
Check out the trailer for yourself.
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Friday, January 04, 2008
Technology is Finally Catching up to my Imagination
I remember the first time I played Pong on a friends TV set. I was amazed that they figured out how to make it work on a TV. I also was amazed at how bad I was at the game. The little paddle controller just didn't do it for me. My frustration caused me to think of at least a hundred different things that could be done to improve the game experience. In the end I realized that what I was picturing a real game of tennis. So I picked up a racket and went out to play. I was really bad at real tennis too but at least I got some fresh air.
Over the years games have gotten more and more real. I remember the first time I jumped into the cockpit of an x-wing fighter and destroyed the death star (well, at least I tried to). The vector graphics were kind of lame. A wire frame death star just didn't do it for me. Again I found myself imagining at least a hundred different things that would make the game better. In the end I realized that I was imagining flying a real x-wing and blowing up a real death star.
But x-wings and death stars are not real so I couldn't just go jump in one and save the galaxy. Sadly I had to accept that the hard plastic chair connected to the vector graphics display was the closest I was ever going to get to my dream.
Over the years Star Wars games got better and better. When Episode I came out, so did an arcade game that allowed you to not only pilot an x-wing but also duel with a light saber. The graphics were way better thanks to the advent of 3D graphics. That was the ultimate fun for me. I could slip out of the dull dreary real world and into a galaxy far far away as a Jedi Master. Then I played the game and quickly realized that I was as bad with a light saber as I was with a paddle controller on an Atari.
I began to sense a pattern. Why was I so bad at every video game I played? Why were the controllers so hard to use? I realized that the problem wasn't all mine. Sure I have zero hand eye coordination but the real problem was with the controllers themselves. You see when I play a video game I expect the controller to be an extension of myself. If I am playing a driving game then of course I must turn the controller (and my whole body) in the direction that I want to turn. I know that all I really need to do is push the stupid button or move the useless thumb stick but my mind does not associate those simple finger movements with what is happening on the screen (and therefore in my imagination). My mind wants (and therefore tells) my whole body to move out of the way of the flying piece of asteroid coming at me.
So you can imagine my joy when I heard about the Wii. I know that some of my gaming friends are shaking their heads right now. They tell me that the Wii is not a real game machine. To them, and most of them have grown up with video games, there is no problem with the old style controllers. They have excellent hand eye coordination and they know not only when to push the "X" button, but where the stupid "X" button is. And they never forget where it it is. They never get it confused with the "B" button.
Fine, they can have their stupid controllers. I can't play that way. I am slow. My eyes and hands do not communicate so well and on top of that I am just a bit dyslexic. That is why every time my friends and I get together and play Halo, I am usually the one with not only the lowest score but the one who earns the most laughs in a game. How many times have I heard "Rick! What are you doing?" from teammates that I am supposed to be helping.
So now there is a game machine for me. I spent many long dark hours in line to get the Wii for my family this past Christmas and (if I can get home before my kids do) I intend to log many hours playing tennis the way it was meant to be played--in my living room. Pong is so far removed from tennis on the Wii that I cannot even begin to describe it. I feel like I am playing real tennis (except I actually hit the ball on the Wii).
But Today, my joy is now complete! Not only has tennis caught up to my imagination so has being a Jedi. Introducing (fanfare please) "Camy Pro Gear Wii Light Swords!" Thats right someone has made a light saber add on for the Wii remote (check out the link
IGN: Camy Pro Gear Wii Light Swords Preview). It is set to release at the same time that "the highly anticipated" Star Wars: The Force Unleashed game premiers on the Wii.
Can you imagine! Now I too can be a Jedi master and save the galaxy. All in the comfort of my living room. (I suggest you all stand back-I can't be held responsible for what happens when I start waving the light saber around.)
Over the years games have gotten more and more real. I remember the first time I jumped into the cockpit of an x-wing fighter and destroyed the death star (well, at least I tried to). The vector graphics were kind of lame. A wire frame death star just didn't do it for me. Again I found myself imagining at least a hundred different things that would make the game better. In the end I realized that I was imagining flying a real x-wing and blowing up a real death star.
But x-wings and death stars are not real so I couldn't just go jump in one and save the galaxy. Sadly I had to accept that the hard plastic chair connected to the vector graphics display was the closest I was ever going to get to my dream.
Over the years Star Wars games got better and better. When Episode I came out, so did an arcade game that allowed you to not only pilot an x-wing but also duel with a light saber. The graphics were way better thanks to the advent of 3D graphics. That was the ultimate fun for me. I could slip out of the dull dreary real world and into a galaxy far far away as a Jedi Master. Then I played the game and quickly realized that I was as bad with a light saber as I was with a paddle controller on an Atari.
I began to sense a pattern. Why was I so bad at every video game I played? Why were the controllers so hard to use? I realized that the problem wasn't all mine. Sure I have zero hand eye coordination but the real problem was with the controllers themselves. You see when I play a video game I expect the controller to be an extension of myself. If I am playing a driving game then of course I must turn the controller (and my whole body) in the direction that I want to turn. I know that all I really need to do is push the stupid button or move the useless thumb stick but my mind does not associate those simple finger movements with what is happening on the screen (and therefore in my imagination). My mind wants (and therefore tells) my whole body to move out of the way of the flying piece of asteroid coming at me.
So you can imagine my joy when I heard about the Wii. I know that some of my gaming friends are shaking their heads right now. They tell me that the Wii is not a real game machine. To them, and most of them have grown up with video games, there is no problem with the old style controllers. They have excellent hand eye coordination and they know not only when to push the "X" button, but where the stupid "X" button is. And they never forget where it it is. They never get it confused with the "B" button.
Fine, they can have their stupid controllers. I can't play that way. I am slow. My eyes and hands do not communicate so well and on top of that I am just a bit dyslexic. That is why every time my friends and I get together and play Halo, I am usually the one with not only the lowest score but the one who earns the most laughs in a game. How many times have I heard "Rick! What are you doing?" from teammates that I am supposed to be helping.
So now there is a game machine for me. I spent many long dark hours in line to get the Wii for my family this past Christmas and (if I can get home before my kids do) I intend to log many hours playing tennis the way it was meant to be played--in my living room. Pong is so far removed from tennis on the Wii that I cannot even begin to describe it. I feel like I am playing real tennis (except I actually hit the ball on the Wii).
But Today, my joy is now complete! Not only has tennis caught up to my imagination so has being a Jedi. Introducing (fanfare please) "Camy Pro Gear Wii Light Swords!" Thats right someone has made a light saber add on for the Wii remote (check out the link
IGN: Camy Pro Gear Wii Light Swords Preview). It is set to release at the same time that "the highly anticipated" Star Wars: The Force Unleashed game premiers on the Wii.
Can you imagine! Now I too can be a Jedi master and save the galaxy. All in the comfort of my living room. (I suggest you all stand back-I can't be held responsible for what happens when I start waving the light saber around.)
Powered by ScribeFire.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Shane's Slick Shoes
As a kid I was always looking for new things to try. New adventures seemed to be just around every corner. I remember in the 6th Grade my friend Edwin and I were bored with the incessant snowball fights on the playground. As we contemplated coming up with something new we saw another kid named Shane go sliding by. Shane was one of the meaner kids in school. I treated Shane with respect and hoped that he would just ignore me. Life was better when the mean kids ignored you. Edwin and I watched him go sliding by wearing his slick shoes headed for three 4th graders who were nervously lying in middle of the icy sidewalk. I was about to warn the kids to get out of the way when Shane jumped over them (just barely clearing them) and kept sliding. Curiosity struck me as to why anyone in their right mind would lay in the middle of an ice covered sidewalk and let someone like Shane jump you. Shane saw me staring and glared at me. I recovered by clapping for him. Edwin joined me. "Good job." We said, "Good job jumping those 4th graders."
Shane smiled and grabbed a third grader and had him lay down next to the 4th graders. Then he carefully made his way up the hill again in the snow bank. Part of me was jealous. I wanted to jump the kids too. This was after all, Butte Montana home of Evel Kenievel the worlds most famous daredevil. Every boy in Butte had a passion for jumping things. It was then that Edwin pointed out to Shane that he had just barely cleared the three 4th graders. There was no way he was going to make it over 4 kids. Shane glared at him. Edwin explained it was all about the need for more speed. I will never forget Shane's grin as he conscripted Edwin and myself to serve as horses to pull him so he would get enough speed. Of course there was no arguing with Shane. Mean kids don't argue fairly.
I was nervous our first run. Edwin and I would ran as fast as we could down the hill with Shane holding on to our coats. We broke in opposite directions when we were a foot away from the kids on the ground. It worked flawlessly and Shane sailed through the air and landed several feet beyond the kids just as the recess bell rang. It was high fives all around and lots of big thanks from the kids on the ground.
That afternoon Shane came looking for us and once again we were the horses and he was the jumper. This time it was 5 kids who were drafted into service and number 5 was white as a ghost and almost in tears. Shane made 5 with ease and over the next few days he kept increasing his record and kids from all over the playground came to watch the spectacle. Edwin and I were almost as famous as Shane. We gained the respect and admiration of everyone in school. We had two jobs 1) pull Shane and 2) keep the crowds back so Shane could concentrate before a jump. I also helped recruit kids to distract the playground lady so that she was always somewhere else when we were ready for the jump.
I will never forget the last jump Shane made -- 14 kids. That is the exact number of busses that Evel had attempted and missed. I only know that because Shane pulled Edwin and I aside just before the jump and mentioned it to us. He told us to pull as hard and as fast as we could. We exchanged high fives and the stage was set for Shane to go down in history. The crowd cheered us on. We raced ahead. Our timing was perfect and Shane was slingshotted over the kids; most of them anyway.
I thought he was going to make it. It looked clean but Shane came out of his tuck just a little early and his heels came crashing down on number 14 knocking the wind out of the kid and sending Shane hurtling head over heels to the icy pavement. Edwin and I ran to Shane. He was shaken up but ok. The other kid was winded but he was ok too. What wasn't ok was that the kids I had drafted into keeping the playground lady occupied had failed. Suddenly there she was towering over number 14 and glaring at Shane, Edwin and me. Needless to say Shane never jumped again and every day until the snow melted the playground lady watched the three of us like a hawk.
After that things were different. Shane wasn't mean to me anymore and we became good friends. I would have spent the rest of 6th grade avoiding him like always if we had not shared the camaraderie of working together as a team. Have you ever been a part of a team like that. A team that is passionate about reaching a goal. Teamwork is essential for reaching goals and it brings us closer together. I have no idea where Shane or Edwin are today but I will be forever connected to them because for a short period of time we made history on the playground or Webster-Garfield Elementary school. The playground lady may have kept us from reaching the ultimate goal of jumping 14 kids or more, but no one can take away the closeness we felt as a team.
Shane smiled and grabbed a third grader and had him lay down next to the 4th graders. Then he carefully made his way up the hill again in the snow bank. Part of me was jealous. I wanted to jump the kids too. This was after all, Butte Montana home of Evel Kenievel the worlds most famous daredevil. Every boy in Butte had a passion for jumping things. It was then that Edwin pointed out to Shane that he had just barely cleared the three 4th graders. There was no way he was going to make it over 4 kids. Shane glared at him. Edwin explained it was all about the need for more speed. I will never forget Shane's grin as he conscripted Edwin and myself to serve as horses to pull him so he would get enough speed. Of course there was no arguing with Shane. Mean kids don't argue fairly.
I was nervous our first run. Edwin and I would ran as fast as we could down the hill with Shane holding on to our coats. We broke in opposite directions when we were a foot away from the kids on the ground. It worked flawlessly and Shane sailed through the air and landed several feet beyond the kids just as the recess bell rang. It was high fives all around and lots of big thanks from the kids on the ground.
That afternoon Shane came looking for us and once again we were the horses and he was the jumper. This time it was 5 kids who were drafted into service and number 5 was white as a ghost and almost in tears. Shane made 5 with ease and over the next few days he kept increasing his record and kids from all over the playground came to watch the spectacle. Edwin and I were almost as famous as Shane. We gained the respect and admiration of everyone in school. We had two jobs 1) pull Shane and 2) keep the crowds back so Shane could concentrate before a jump. I also helped recruit kids to distract the playground lady so that she was always somewhere else when we were ready for the jump.
I will never forget the last jump Shane made -- 14 kids. That is the exact number of busses that Evel had attempted and missed. I only know that because Shane pulled Edwin and I aside just before the jump and mentioned it to us. He told us to pull as hard and as fast as we could. We exchanged high fives and the stage was set for Shane to go down in history. The crowd cheered us on. We raced ahead. Our timing was perfect and Shane was slingshotted over the kids; most of them anyway.
I thought he was going to make it. It looked clean but Shane came out of his tuck just a little early and his heels came crashing down on number 14 knocking the wind out of the kid and sending Shane hurtling head over heels to the icy pavement. Edwin and I ran to Shane. He was shaken up but ok. The other kid was winded but he was ok too. What wasn't ok was that the kids I had drafted into keeping the playground lady occupied had failed. Suddenly there she was towering over number 14 and glaring at Shane, Edwin and me. Needless to say Shane never jumped again and every day until the snow melted the playground lady watched the three of us like a hawk.
After that things were different. Shane wasn't mean to me anymore and we became good friends. I would have spent the rest of 6th grade avoiding him like always if we had not shared the camaraderie of working together as a team. Have you ever been a part of a team like that. A team that is passionate about reaching a goal. Teamwork is essential for reaching goals and it brings us closer together. I have no idea where Shane or Edwin are today but I will be forever connected to them because for a short period of time we made history on the playground or Webster-Garfield Elementary school. The playground lady may have kept us from reaching the ultimate goal of jumping 14 kids or more, but no one can take away the closeness we felt as a team.
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Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Living Sacrifice
August 15, 2007
To the Jews the sacrifice was their worship. All kinds of different fo rms of sacrifice for different things. Wave, wheat, sin, etc. The Atoning sacrifice does not appear to be in view here. We are not to present ourselves as the atoning lamb or the bull or what ever. He does not say that we are to be the wheat or wave offering. Paul does not describe what kind of sacrifice other then that we are living. None of the things that were sacrificed in the OT were living with the exception of Isaac, but I do not think that is what he is saying. He is describing a new thing. Jesus was the atoning sacrifice so there was no longer a need for an annual atoning sacrifice. When we here this great debate about circumcision are we, as my Messianic Jewish friend Hezekiah says, really seeing the debate about the sacrifices.
Yet here is Paul saying, (in one of the few places of the NT that talks about a sacrifice other than the atoning work of the cross) that we are to present ourselves as a living offering. This is a new thing.This is fresh. In Hebrews and one of the letters from Peter we learn that Jesus is our Great High priest. Does he as high priest, then take those offerings that we present to him and do the actual ritual to sacrifice them. Are we putting our very lives into his hands so that he can lay them on the altar before God. Since we are living sacrifices is it our lives that is the sweet aroma rising up into the heavens. Is a life that is not presented as a proper living sacrifice (one full of blemishes) then seen as an unpleasant aroma that God rejects?
This is deep stuff.
1 I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. 2 Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.[1]
I am confused as to whether the "by" is pointing back to the appeal or forward to the act of presentation. If it is backward to the appeal then it means that Paul is adding emphasis to what is about to come. He is saying “with God and his great mercies as my witness I am (and God is) appealing to you to…” If the "by" is pointing to the act of presentation then he is saying that the act of presentation of our bodies as living sacrifices is somehow tied to the mercies of God. Either it is the power behind our ability to sacrifice or it is the motivating factor that moves us to present our bodies as sacrifice. This needs further pondering. Another thing that stands out to me is that he the plea is for us to present ourselves as living sacrifices. It does not say to sacrifice ourselves. Why?
That one is confusing. I have always thought of it that way. I have always felt like we were to sacrifice ourselves for God and to God. But Paul is saying to present ourselves to God as living sacrifices. I wonder if this is tied to some OT understanding of the sacrifice. Perhaps all the priests ever did was present the sacrifice and it was up to God to accept it. If this is true then the sacrifice was to be perfect without blemish and presented to the priest who prepared for and performed the sacrifice. Maybe that is what is in view here.
My life needs to be free of blemishes so that God is then able to prepare me and perform the actual sacrifice. This is not an act of salvation – that was already done. But, as Paul points out an act of worship.
To the Jews the sacrifice was their worship. All kinds of different fo rms of sacrifice for different things. Wave, wheat, sin, etc. The Atoning sacrifice does not appear to be in view here. We are not to present ourselves as the atoning lamb or the bull or what ever. He does not say that we are to be the wheat or wave offering. Paul does not describe what kind of sacrifice other then that we are living. None of the things that were sacrificed in the OT were living with the exception of Isaac, but I do not think that is what he is saying. He is describing a new thing. Jesus was the atoning sacrifice so there was no longer a need for an annual atoning sacrifice. When we here this great debate about circumcision are we, as my Messianic Jewish friend Hezekiah says, really seeing the debate about the sacrifices.My friend pointed out that you would think that the Judiazers and the Christians would have argued about the need for continued temple worship that included the sacrifices. The NT is silent on the issue of whether we should sacrifice or not. Why. Hezekiah (my friend not the prophet) says that in truth the debate about circumcision was not about the need to follow the law of Moses but it was about whether Christians, Jewish and Gentile, needed to engage in the Sacrifices that came along with the law. I am not sure if he is right because it seems to me that you cannot separate following the law from the temple sacrifices. They are bound together. If we
no longer need to give a wave offering then we should no longer need to be concerned about the part of the law that was tied to the wave offering.
Yet here is Paul saying, (in one of the few places of the NT that talks about a sacrifice other than the atoning work of the cross) that we are to present ourselves as a living offering. This is a new thing.This is fresh. In Hebrews and one of the letters from Peter we learn that Jesus is our Great High priest. Does he as high priest, then take those offerings that we present to him and do the actual ritual to sacrifice them. Are we putting our very lives into his hands so that he can lay them on the altar before God. Since we are living sacrifices is it our lives that is the sweet aroma rising up into the heavens. Is a life that is not presented as a proper living sacrifice (one full of blemishes) then seen as an unpleasant aroma that God rejects?This is deep stuff.
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Tuesday, August 14, 2007
A week of Immersion
Based on a challenge from Bill Hybels at the leadership summit I am going to try to immerse myself into a chapter. Rather than doing it for a full year (something that is insurmountable to me), I will try to do it every day for a week. Bill started with Romans 12. I figure if it was good enough for him it is good enough for me.
August 14, 2007
I read through the passage a couple times. I did not have my journal out so that I was unable to take detailed notes. My recollection is that I was struck by the fact that although it is monumental in topic (the church and spiritual gifts) it begins with a person leading a life that is a living sacrifice. The church is made up of living sacrifices. We are all worthy of death and needed a sacrifice but Jesus did that for us. So we are to remember that with our very life’s. The way we live is to reflect that redemptive act. So if we are doing that then everything about the structure of the church follows.
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