Well, here we sit at the Super 8 Motel in Lakehurst, NJ (For history buffs, that's where the Hindenburg crashed). On a whim I opened my iBook laptop and checked the area for wireless signals...voila! There was one available and I quickly gained access to the network. I love wireless, especially in a boring hotel room.
The Big Apple was great. Times Square. Rockefeller Center. Little Italy. The Apple Store in SoHo. Chinatown. FAO Schwartz. Central Park. It was all great and we had beautiful weather. I would post some pictures but I left the USB cable for my camera home as I didn't think that I would need it.
Anyhow, we're off to my parents for another visit today. We are all getting sort of tired of the hotel one room thing with 4 people. The only hitch is that we now have a High Terror Alert at the airport that will require us to leave earlier that planned - 6 am at the latest on Christmas Day.
I will give an update later.
WH
12.19.2003
I Love Technology
So here we are at the airport in Columbia, SC. Jason, my son, opened my laptop to play a DVD and I reached over to shut off my Airport wireless card and the thing was active.
The airport has a public access wireless network that is blazing fast...and just think I almost didn't bring my laptop:)
Happy Holidays...
WH
The airport has a public access wireless network that is blazing fast...and just think I almost didn't bring my laptop:)
Happy Holidays...
WH
Off To The Big Apple
Hope all of you have a happy holiday. We're off to the big apple for Christmas. Yep , call me crazy. We will be in NY City for THE busiest shopping day of the year - the Saturday before Christmas.
We will be at Rockefeller Center, Times Square and Little Italy tomorrow. Then we drive down to NJ to visit my parents, and back to SC on Christmas Day - the best day to travel!!
Everyone have a safe and wonderful time this holiday. I am also reminded to say a prayer of comfort for those who have lost loved ones and those who have family and friends in our armed forces around the world.
Peace...
WH
We will be at Rockefeller Center, Times Square and Little Italy tomorrow. Then we drive down to NJ to visit my parents, and back to SC on Christmas Day - the best day to travel!!
Everyone have a safe and wonderful time this holiday. I am also reminded to say a prayer of comfort for those who have lost loved ones and those who have family and friends in our armed forces around the world.
Peace...
WH
12.02.2003
Lord heal my...WHAT!?
As one can imagine, 18 years in ministry can make available a variety of experiences which are at opposite ends of the continuum. There is the triumphant and the tragic. The wonderful and horrible. The rewarding and the draining.
The following story is one of the funniest that I experienced.
The first church in which I served was a medium sized charismatic Southern Baptist Church. Picture that if you can. We used to be called Bapticostal. Believing that there are angels, demons and the like we were actually able to help a number of people who actually had spiritual-emotional problems who struggled with a "secular only" approach to counseling. Some of these individuals had legitimate demonic problems and many saw relief after compassionate, applicable counseling.
Having said that, we also encountered many individuals who were just nutty. One particular individual arrived at our door due to the referral of a relative who attended our church. He was convinced that he had demons and that they were telling him to kill himself, that his wife hated him, etc. It was obvious that he was delusional and confused. We spent a few hours talking with him over the next few days. It became apparent that his problems were not on the level which he thought them to be. I made a few referrals to some local professionals and suggested that he make an appointment to see them. He said that he would. His relative, a cousin, said that he could stay with him while undergoing treatment.
The next Sunday there he was, sitting in the pew, quiet and sullen. I kept an eye on him during the service and there was no problem. Afterwards I asked how he was doing. I discovered that he didn't contact any of the counselors yet, and that the reasons that he was having problems was that he decided, "because the Lord told him", to stop taking his lithium. Ah, ha! Maybe that's why he was a bit off kilter. Bi-polar as hell. The best was yet to come:)
Our Wednesday night services were typically calm. This night would be different. We sang and had prayer requests (what I called "organ recital" due to the amount of physical problems mentioned). The usual format was that the lights were dimmed (because it made it easier for God to hear prayers of course!), and people could come forward to kneel at the front stage and pray. Soft music was playing and some folks were kneeling at the stage.
After a few minutes, our bipolar friend slowly stood up and made his way to the front of the church. He was just standing quietly and I thought, "thank you God." My hope was that he would just finish and sit down. Not to happen.
He raised both hands to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs, "LORD, HEAL MY DICK!" Heads snapped up, eyes were wide open, and those of us who heard what he said were giving each other the, "I can't believe that he just said that, he really didn't say that" look. About 5 seconds passed and he repeated the petition, "LORD, HEAL MY DICK!"
I quickly asked one of our stouter men to the front of the church and had him escort our debilitated friend. He was taken out and over the next few days had a few outbursts in town, was eventually committed, and got back on his medication. He returned home in a few months and was fine after that (and still is for all I know).
Later that evening a few of us were standing around talking about the incident and one of the wives thought that he actually said, "LORD, HEAL MY JEEP!" Her husband said, "I never heard it called that before."
All in all, this was quite a memorable incident. I'm just glad that he wasn't asking us to anoint with oil and lay hands on his "jeep".
WH
The following story is one of the funniest that I experienced.
The first church in which I served was a medium sized charismatic Southern Baptist Church. Picture that if you can. We used to be called Bapticostal. Believing that there are angels, demons and the like we were actually able to help a number of people who actually had spiritual-emotional problems who struggled with a "secular only" approach to counseling. Some of these individuals had legitimate demonic problems and many saw relief after compassionate, applicable counseling.
Having said that, we also encountered many individuals who were just nutty. One particular individual arrived at our door due to the referral of a relative who attended our church. He was convinced that he had demons and that they were telling him to kill himself, that his wife hated him, etc. It was obvious that he was delusional and confused. We spent a few hours talking with him over the next few days. It became apparent that his problems were not on the level which he thought them to be. I made a few referrals to some local professionals and suggested that he make an appointment to see them. He said that he would. His relative, a cousin, said that he could stay with him while undergoing treatment.
The next Sunday there he was, sitting in the pew, quiet and sullen. I kept an eye on him during the service and there was no problem. Afterwards I asked how he was doing. I discovered that he didn't contact any of the counselors yet, and that the reasons that he was having problems was that he decided, "because the Lord told him", to stop taking his lithium. Ah, ha! Maybe that's why he was a bit off kilter. Bi-polar as hell. The best was yet to come:)
Our Wednesday night services were typically calm. This night would be different. We sang and had prayer requests (what I called "organ recital" due to the amount of physical problems mentioned). The usual format was that the lights were dimmed (because it made it easier for God to hear prayers of course!), and people could come forward to kneel at the front stage and pray. Soft music was playing and some folks were kneeling at the stage.
After a few minutes, our bipolar friend slowly stood up and made his way to the front of the church. He was just standing quietly and I thought, "thank you God." My hope was that he would just finish and sit down. Not to happen.
He raised both hands to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs, "LORD, HEAL MY DICK!" Heads snapped up, eyes were wide open, and those of us who heard what he said were giving each other the, "I can't believe that he just said that, he really didn't say that" look. About 5 seconds passed and he repeated the petition, "LORD, HEAL MY DICK!"
I quickly asked one of our stouter men to the front of the church and had him escort our debilitated friend. He was taken out and over the next few days had a few outbursts in town, was eventually committed, and got back on his medication. He returned home in a few months and was fine after that (and still is for all I know).
Later that evening a few of us were standing around talking about the incident and one of the wives thought that he actually said, "LORD, HEAL MY JEEP!" Her husband said, "I never heard it called that before."
All in all, this was quite a memorable incident. I'm just glad that he wasn't asking us to anoint with oil and lay hands on his "jeep".
WH
11.22.2003
Thought provoking - Marriage and Fidelity
I was browsing through my favorite bloggers and read the November 22nd post by Le Prêtre Noir. It is a an editorial from a conserative New York Times writer. Interesting perspective. I'm sure that it scares the Far Right to death but many things do.
The truth is that gay marriage cannot be blamed for the erosion of heterosexual marriage. We hetero's have done that all by ourselves.
One of the things that I am glad about regarding the whole dialog on gay marriage is that people are actually applying rational and relational thought to the issue and not just charged emotions.
WH
The truth is that gay marriage cannot be blamed for the erosion of heterosexual marriage. We hetero's have done that all by ourselves.
One of the things that I am glad about regarding the whole dialog on gay marriage is that people are actually applying rational and relational thought to the issue and not just charged emotions.
WH
11.17.2003
Protect Our Communities
One of the somber lessons that I have learned in years of living in church community is that there are people who do not have the best interests of God's Kingdom in mind. Many times we find ourselves building "a kingdom" instead of "The Kingdom". Motives are polluted with selfish desire, self advancement, or recognition hunger.
This is not, however, the worst problem we face. The worst is the predators. Those who know that there are weak and vulnerable people in communities. Those who gravitate to those communities knowing that if they would just use a few key terms, "insider" lingo, spiritual terms that are "passwords" into the fold, they can worm into the position of power and take advantage - causing havoc and pain in the lives of those who are most in need of healing and hope.
Why is this so? Why do people find a place to operate in abusive ways when the community of God should be a place where the weak are safe? The main reason is that we have been, for way too long, too trusting of those who pass a litmus test of "faith" that is too shallow and easily faked. As I mentioned above, people who name drop God, or the latest worship phase, or best seller, or pet theological view become accepted.
It's a well known fact that one of the easiest place to find vulnerable women is church. In some churches anyone who answers the call to work with the nursery, children, or teens can do so without any reservation. That's suicide. I cannot tell you how many people I have spoken to over the years who have been used, abused, violated, and fractured in communities of faith by those who they trusted. Read the papers.
It almost happened this week in our church. This guy showed up - day one in our community. Dropped some phrases, a well placed "hey brother" and went out to eat with a group afterwards. Next thing you know he's trying to give his phone number to one of the single women of the church - all because he, in his words, "is a kind hearted person and she looked a little down." She's VERY uncomfortable and gets a bad feeling about the whole exchange. Oh, he's married, and did I mention that this was his first time EVER in our community. Who was he kidding. Rat bastard.
Later that week he just decides to show up at the small group that this same girl attends. God works in mysterious ways, huh? There it is - he's a predator. You see, here is where we have blown it in the past. "Let the guy stay." "Doesn't God love everybody?" "Maybe we can help him." Now way! Not at the expense of this young lady.
He was confronted before he even gets in the door. He was asked not to say anything to her. He was told that we did not put with that type of behavior. He was told that although his motives couldn't be questioned, his wisdom could be. How do you think that he responded? He got defensive, tried to use the Bible to show that he was being judged and disappeared back to whatever place that he came from. Bu-bye.
Maybe it's just that we are not "equipped" to handle people like this. Maybe we aren't yet mature enough as a church. Or maybe we should stop being dumb asses and protect those in our communities who are being targeted.
Tell you what. If you think that this is harsh, send me your church's address and the next predator that shows up at our door I'll send your way.
WH
This is not, however, the worst problem we face. The worst is the predators. Those who know that there are weak and vulnerable people in communities. Those who gravitate to those communities knowing that if they would just use a few key terms, "insider" lingo, spiritual terms that are "passwords" into the fold, they can worm into the position of power and take advantage - causing havoc and pain in the lives of those who are most in need of healing and hope.
Why is this so? Why do people find a place to operate in abusive ways when the community of God should be a place where the weak are safe? The main reason is that we have been, for way too long, too trusting of those who pass a litmus test of "faith" that is too shallow and easily faked. As I mentioned above, people who name drop God, or the latest worship phase, or best seller, or pet theological view become accepted.
It's a well known fact that one of the easiest place to find vulnerable women is church. In some churches anyone who answers the call to work with the nursery, children, or teens can do so without any reservation. That's suicide. I cannot tell you how many people I have spoken to over the years who have been used, abused, violated, and fractured in communities of faith by those who they trusted. Read the papers.
It almost happened this week in our church. This guy showed up - day one in our community. Dropped some phrases, a well placed "hey brother" and went out to eat with a group afterwards. Next thing you know he's trying to give his phone number to one of the single women of the church - all because he, in his words, "is a kind hearted person and she looked a little down." She's VERY uncomfortable and gets a bad feeling about the whole exchange. Oh, he's married, and did I mention that this was his first time EVER in our community. Who was he kidding. Rat bastard.
Later that week he just decides to show up at the small group that this same girl attends. God works in mysterious ways, huh? There it is - he's a predator. You see, here is where we have blown it in the past. "Let the guy stay." "Doesn't God love everybody?" "Maybe we can help him." Now way! Not at the expense of this young lady.
He was confronted before he even gets in the door. He was asked not to say anything to her. He was told that we did not put with that type of behavior. He was told that although his motives couldn't be questioned, his wisdom could be. How do you think that he responded? He got defensive, tried to use the Bible to show that he was being judged and disappeared back to whatever place that he came from. Bu-bye.
Maybe it's just that we are not "equipped" to handle people like this. Maybe we aren't yet mature enough as a church. Or maybe we should stop being dumb asses and protect those in our communities who are being targeted.
Tell you what. If you think that this is harsh, send me your church's address and the next predator that shows up at our door I'll send your way.
WH
11.13.2003
It is a cold day in hell...
Read the story and find out what amazing, earth-shattering, news rocked the campus of a mid-west college - - Breaking news!!
WH
WH
11.05.2003
The Etch A Sketch Years
I am the parent of two teenagers. One is a 14 year old young lady. The other a 17 year old young man. This particular entry has to do with the elder child.
I know that I have spoken to him about relatively easy things to remember. Things that require some, but not much, thought. Now those of you with teenagers will relate to this - Have you ever wondered what happened to the various requests that you have built into your children over the years? I mean, this is not recent stuff. It usually consists of areas and issues that have been the topic of many requests and corrections over the years.
For instance, I know that many of us, as parents, have communicated to our kids a simple request like, "Please don't leave food in your room." Now this is not just controlling parenting. This is because, at least in our part of the U.S., the deep south, we have ants. Ants happen to like easy meals and aren't easily deterred once a food source is readily available. In addition to ants, there is mold, and in the slow process of food becoming petrified, it stinks as it rots. I would think that these are fair and reasonable reasons to not allow dirty dishes and half eaten bags of snack foods in the room.
As I was relating some of these thoughts to a friend she hit upon the perfect metaphor - teens are like an etch-a-sketch. If you have ever played with or owned an etch-a-sketch, you know exactly what she is talking about. If you haven't, click on the link above and discover the wonder of this toy. The main point for this discussion, is that the etch-a-sketch, when you have a picture that you no longer want, when turned over and shaken, erases all evidence of the work that you have produced.
In a similar way at some point in a teens life, they get turned over and shaken, thereby erasing much, if not all, of the "imprint" that has been made.
"Jason, please put your glass on a coaster and not the table."
The sound of the Etch-a-sketch shaking, "Why? It's OK there."
"Hey Jas, could you not park behind Jen's car in the garage so she can get out if she needs to?"
Shuchaka-shutchka-shake - "Is she going out later?"
"Could you please clean the bathroom, specifically the toilet, since it's all yellow and nasty?"
Shuchaka-shuckaha-shake "Is anyone coming over?"
"Did you remember to get that ___________________ (fill in the blank) that I asked you for?"
Shuchaka-shutchka-shake "Huh?"
It actually makes for some great moments of disbelief, wonder, and amazement. I can only hope that some day there is some deeper imprint that resurfaces after some time of amnesia.
For now I just hear the sound, Shuchaka-shutchka-shake.
WH
I know that I have spoken to him about relatively easy things to remember. Things that require some, but not much, thought. Now those of you with teenagers will relate to this - Have you ever wondered what happened to the various requests that you have built into your children over the years? I mean, this is not recent stuff. It usually consists of areas and issues that have been the topic of many requests and corrections over the years.
For instance, I know that many of us, as parents, have communicated to our kids a simple request like, "Please don't leave food in your room." Now this is not just controlling parenting. This is because, at least in our part of the U.S., the deep south, we have ants. Ants happen to like easy meals and aren't easily deterred once a food source is readily available. In addition to ants, there is mold, and in the slow process of food becoming petrified, it stinks as it rots. I would think that these are fair and reasonable reasons to not allow dirty dishes and half eaten bags of snack foods in the room.
As I was relating some of these thoughts to a friend she hit upon the perfect metaphor - teens are like an etch-a-sketch. If you have ever played with or owned an etch-a-sketch, you know exactly what she is talking about. If you haven't, click on the link above and discover the wonder of this toy. The main point for this discussion, is that the etch-a-sketch, when you have a picture that you no longer want, when turned over and shaken, erases all evidence of the work that you have produced.
In a similar way at some point in a teens life, they get turned over and shaken, thereby erasing much, if not all, of the "imprint" that has been made.
"Jason, please put your glass on a coaster and not the table."
The sound of the Etch-a-sketch shaking, "Why? It's OK there."
"Hey Jas, could you not park behind Jen's car in the garage so she can get out if she needs to?"
Shuchaka-shutchka-shake - "Is she going out later?"
"Could you please clean the bathroom, specifically the toilet, since it's all yellow and nasty?"
Shuchaka-shuckaha-shake "Is anyone coming over?"
"Did you remember to get that ___________________ (fill in the blank) that I asked you for?"
Shuchaka-shutchka-shake "Huh?"
It actually makes for some great moments of disbelief, wonder, and amazement. I can only hope that some day there is some deeper imprint that resurfaces after some time of amnesia.
For now I just hear the sound, Shuchaka-shutchka-shake.
WH
10.26.2003
It's All About The Eyes
This story comes from Henri Nouwen.
One day a young fugitive, trying to hide himself from the enemy, entered a small village. Th people were kind to him and offered him a place to stay. But when the soldiers who sought the fugitive asked where he was hiding, everyone became very fearful. The soldiers threatened to burn the village and kill every man in it unless the young man was handed over to them before dawn. The people went to the minister and asked him what to do. The minister, torn between handing the boy over to the enemy or having his people killed, withdrew to his room and read his Bible, hoping to find an answer before dawn. After many hours, in the early morning his eyes fell on these words: "It is better that one man dies that the whole people be lost."
Then the minister closed the Bible, called the soldiers and told them where the boy was hidden. And after the soldiers led the fugitive away to be killed, there was a feast in the village because the minister had saved the lives of the people. But the minister did not celebrate. Overcome with a deep sadness, he remained in his room. That night, an angel came to him, and asked, "What have you done?" The minister said, "I handed over the fugitive to the enemy." Then the angel said, "But don't you know that you have handed over the Messiah?' "How could I know?" the minister replied anxiously. Then the angel said: "If, instead of reading your Bible, you had visited this young man just once and looked into his eyes, you would have known."
Powerful stuff. Who have I handed over to the enemy, thinking that I was doing what was best, with the support of Scripture? Maybe I should spend more time looking into the eyes of others - I may find that God resides in them. I may find that I have more in common with them that I would be comfortable with. Risk is good. Life is precious.
WH
One day a young fugitive, trying to hide himself from the enemy, entered a small village. Th people were kind to him and offered him a place to stay. But when the soldiers who sought the fugitive asked where he was hiding, everyone became very fearful. The soldiers threatened to burn the village and kill every man in it unless the young man was handed over to them before dawn. The people went to the minister and asked him what to do. The minister, torn between handing the boy over to the enemy or having his people killed, withdrew to his room and read his Bible, hoping to find an answer before dawn. After many hours, in the early morning his eyes fell on these words: "It is better that one man dies that the whole people be lost."
Then the minister closed the Bible, called the soldiers and told them where the boy was hidden. And after the soldiers led the fugitive away to be killed, there was a feast in the village because the minister had saved the lives of the people. But the minister did not celebrate. Overcome with a deep sadness, he remained in his room. That night, an angel came to him, and asked, "What have you done?" The minister said, "I handed over the fugitive to the enemy." Then the angel said, "But don't you know that you have handed over the Messiah?' "How could I know?" the minister replied anxiously. Then the angel said: "If, instead of reading your Bible, you had visited this young man just once and looked into his eyes, you would have known."
Powerful stuff. Who have I handed over to the enemy, thinking that I was doing what was best, with the support of Scripture? Maybe I should spend more time looking into the eyes of others - I may find that God resides in them. I may find that I have more in common with them that I would be comfortable with. Risk is good. Life is precious.
WH
10.24.2003
Solar Storms are Here
Here is a link to SOHO - The Solar and Heliospheric Observatory where you can see the latest pictures of the sun. Very cool. We will probably experience some disruption to our satellite TV, cell phones, and wireless technologies over the next few days.
Amazing!
WH
PS - (10/26/03) Thankfully it was a non-event. But when you go to the link, click on the "The Sun Now" in the upper left hand corner. The pictures are amazing and I saved a series of the 1024x1024 for my desktop pictures that change every 5 seconds.
Amazing!
WH
PS - (10/26/03) Thankfully it was a non-event. But when you go to the link, click on the "The Sun Now" in the upper left hand corner. The pictures are amazing and I saved a series of the 1024x1024 for my desktop pictures that change every 5 seconds.
10.23.2003
Opportunities That Are Ours
One of the situations that we face in our life is the missed opportunities and chances to fulfill the destiny that it uniquely ours.
There are times that we are presented with a place of opportunity where the potential and resources converge and something great can happen. Maybe not great in that we get noticed or receive recognition for something. Nor that it is earth shattering, but great in that we find fulfillment and discover, for a moment (or longer), what we were born to do or be. This is, I believe, what gives us the greatest sense of satisfaction we can attain.
What can happen, however, is that we use the resources and opportunity for ourselves instead of the fulfillment of the destiny. The consequence is that we settle for the status quo (or less). I have discovered that the result is complaint. A whining that nothing ever goes right, our situation would have been different only if… and all manner of excuses for not fulfilling our potential.
In these moments I find myself blaming God, or whomever I find convenient at the moment to “blame shift”. “The woman you gave me made me eat.” “It was the serpent.” One of the oldest defense mechanisms in the human experience - blame.
The truth is that when we are stingy and selfish there are consequences. I believe that God has created the universe with certain principles built in, as well as His interaction with us. He, as the perfect parent, cannot let us get away with this self-centered behavior. He is stingy toward us. Not in a mean, vindictive way, but mercifully. The same way that I, as a parent, cannot let the selfishness of one of my children be rewarded.
The beautiful truth is that God is calling us back to the original task, continually and lovingly. He wants us to experience our destiny. He wants us to shape the future with Him. He delights to be surprised be us and our creativity.
To be made in God’s image – to be creative, imaginative, and live with a sense of wonder – is an amazing gift. Live it well. While there is breath in you it’s never too late.
WH
There are times that we are presented with a place of opportunity where the potential and resources converge and something great can happen. Maybe not great in that we get noticed or receive recognition for something. Nor that it is earth shattering, but great in that we find fulfillment and discover, for a moment (or longer), what we were born to do or be. This is, I believe, what gives us the greatest sense of satisfaction we can attain.
What can happen, however, is that we use the resources and opportunity for ourselves instead of the fulfillment of the destiny. The consequence is that we settle for the status quo (or less). I have discovered that the result is complaint. A whining that nothing ever goes right, our situation would have been different only if… and all manner of excuses for not fulfilling our potential.
In these moments I find myself blaming God, or whomever I find convenient at the moment to “blame shift”. “The woman you gave me made me eat.” “It was the serpent.” One of the oldest defense mechanisms in the human experience - blame.
The truth is that when we are stingy and selfish there are consequences. I believe that God has created the universe with certain principles built in, as well as His interaction with us. He, as the perfect parent, cannot let us get away with this self-centered behavior. He is stingy toward us. Not in a mean, vindictive way, but mercifully. The same way that I, as a parent, cannot let the selfishness of one of my children be rewarded.
The beautiful truth is that God is calling us back to the original task, continually and lovingly. He wants us to experience our destiny. He wants us to shape the future with Him. He delights to be surprised be us and our creativity.
To be made in God’s image – to be creative, imaginative, and live with a sense of wonder – is an amazing gift. Live it well. While there is breath in you it’s never too late.
WH
10.22.2003
Back at The Laptop
Yeah! My iBook was delivered this afternoon. New logic board. everything is updated and ready to go. Hope to be writing more than about the laptop.
WH
WH
10.20.2003
Laptop Withdraw
As awful as it sounds I am amputated without my laptop of one year. Airborne picked it up today to have it serviced. As I have read the discussion groups there are people who have had as many as four logic boards replaced on thier iBooks. That would be a pain...
Anyway, locked down to a desktop isn't too bad.
WH
Anyway, locked down to a desktop isn't too bad.
WH
10.17.2003
Wisdom and Controversy
Thinking about some of the present controversies that are being experienced in major Christian denominations, I am even more enthralled with how Jesus handled the controversies of his day. Different groups were constantly trying to get him to agree with or oppose them so they could "cubby-hole" him.
It didn't matter if a particular group were conservatives (Pharisee's), moderates (Sadducees), or non-theological politicals (Herodians), He was able to respond to each situation without defensiveness and usually sent the particular questioner(s) away with the proverbial tail between the legs.
There are so many wonderful instances of these encounters to use for an example that it is hard to pick one. But my favorite is the encounter Jesus had with all three groups on the same day. The meeting is found in Matthew 22:15-45.
Three times they tried to trap him with loaded questions. Three times he answered in a way that they hadn't prepared for...beautiful. At the end of the dialog Jesus then asks them a question that if they answered "yes" or "no" to, they would have looked like fools. So they remained silent, skulked away, and renewed their fervor in planning to have him killed.
Today, I wonder how he would answer conservatives who asked, "What should we do about homosexual people in our churches?" How about moderate/liberals asking, "Surely taking a unborn child's life is the choice of the mother, isn't it?" Or even the question from the political, non-religious group, "Who's side are you on in the war against terrorism?"
I don't presume to know how he would answer. I do think that we would be surprised, angered, and/or embarrassed. Each of us would have to regroup - that's for sure. Jesus is like that - no allegiances to anyone but the rule and reign of God - the Kingdom.
That's why I want, and need, him to invade my life. I need that type of confrontation to my systems of belief. They always seem ironclad or at least make sense until they are exposed to real mercy, wisdom, and grace.
++help me God to ask the right questions, not ones that make my position look good - thank you that you will not be manipulated for my own purposes, even if I pretend that you are ++
WH
It didn't matter if a particular group were conservatives (Pharisee's), moderates (Sadducees), or non-theological politicals (Herodians), He was able to respond to each situation without defensiveness and usually sent the particular questioner(s) away with the proverbial tail between the legs.
There are so many wonderful instances of these encounters to use for an example that it is hard to pick one. But my favorite is the encounter Jesus had with all three groups on the same day. The meeting is found in Matthew 22:15-45.
Three times they tried to trap him with loaded questions. Three times he answered in a way that they hadn't prepared for...beautiful. At the end of the dialog Jesus then asks them a question that if they answered "yes" or "no" to, they would have looked like fools. So they remained silent, skulked away, and renewed their fervor in planning to have him killed.
Today, I wonder how he would answer conservatives who asked, "What should we do about homosexual people in our churches?" How about moderate/liberals asking, "Surely taking a unborn child's life is the choice of the mother, isn't it?" Or even the question from the political, non-religious group, "Who's side are you on in the war against terrorism?"
I don't presume to know how he would answer. I do think that we would be surprised, angered, and/or embarrassed. Each of us would have to regroup - that's for sure. Jesus is like that - no allegiances to anyone but the rule and reign of God - the Kingdom.
That's why I want, and need, him to invade my life. I need that type of confrontation to my systems of belief. They always seem ironclad or at least make sense until they are exposed to real mercy, wisdom, and grace.
++help me God to ask the right questions, not ones that make my position look good - thank you that you will not be manipulated for my own purposes, even if I pretend that you are ++
WH
In The Fire
I have a friend who is going through a really hard time right now. Someone really encouraged her with an e-mail about what it's like to live with an addict. You can read it here - In The Fire - and also maybe drop her a note of encouragement.
Hang in there gal. You do have friends who care.
WH
Hang in there gal. You do have friends who care.
WH
Laptop Meltdown!!
Well, it was bound to happen. Especially following my rave for Apple yesterday concerning iTunes, iPod, etc. My trusted iBook laptop has started to give up the ghost. Specifically, the logic board is going bad.
Now, not all is lost. I have two other computers with which to work BUT they are in other rooms and aren't wireless. More importantly, I purchased the Applecare program that extends the coverage two years beyond the usual first year of warranty. In fact I got it two weeks ago in preparation for the expiration of year one at the end of November.
First indications of a problem started with the freezing of the computer requiring rebooting. Next, the really cool stuff - scattered horizontal lines and finally a blob like change of screen color that was like the ooze from some sci-fi flick.
Anyhow, my laptop will be in the shop for about two days. I am actually typing on it now hoping to finish this post before it goes wacky.
My next step is backing up stuff and finally saving some of the drafts for blogs that I have started.
I will continue to live dangerously over the weekend, using the unit without walking around the room, just to save me the pleasure of watching the cool lines and blobs of green and brwon color.
Moral of the story - Have a back up plan and on major electronic purchases get the extended warranty. Saved me from some huge depressing moments.
WH
Now, not all is lost. I have two other computers with which to work BUT they are in other rooms and aren't wireless. More importantly, I purchased the Applecare program that extends the coverage two years beyond the usual first year of warranty. In fact I got it two weeks ago in preparation for the expiration of year one at the end of November.
First indications of a problem started with the freezing of the computer requiring rebooting. Next, the really cool stuff - scattered horizontal lines and finally a blob like change of screen color that was like the ooze from some sci-fi flick.
Anyhow, my laptop will be in the shop for about two days. I am actually typing on it now hoping to finish this post before it goes wacky.
My next step is backing up stuff and finally saving some of the drafts for blogs that I have started.
I will continue to live dangerously over the weekend, using the unit without walking around the room, just to save me the pleasure of watching the cool lines and blobs of green and brwon color.
Moral of the story - Have a back up plan and on major electronic purchases get the extended warranty. Saved me from some huge depressing moments.
WH
10.16.2003
Ok I'm A Total Geek
I must confess that I am a total fucking Mac geek. We have four Macs, 2 iPods, and all kinds of old Apple crap laying around the house.
So, no surprise that I am totally stoked about the ne stuff that Apple released today. Read here - Apple launches iTunes for Windows | CNET News.com
Actually, I am pretty amazed at a company that has been declared dead at least four times. Oh, a side note - if you had purchased Apple stock last year your investment would have doubled. $4.4 billion dollars in cash can keep you around for a long time.
Ok, I'll settle down.
WH
So, no surprise that I am totally stoked about the ne stuff that Apple released today. Read here - Apple launches iTunes for Windows | CNET News.com
Actually, I am pretty amazed at a company that has been declared dead at least four times. Oh, a side note - if you had purchased Apple stock last year your investment would have doubled. $4.4 billion dollars in cash can keep you around for a long time.
Ok, I'll settle down.
WH
10.15.2003
My Wife Is Free From Her IV
This past week my wife and I traveled to Columbia, SC to get her PFT (Pulmonary Function Test) results and find out how the latest clean out went.
I'm glad to report that her tests were improved enough to remove the IV line that was in her arm (for the non-squeamish it's like a piece of latex angel hair spaghetti in her vein). The doctor prescribed more oral antibiotics for the next 10 days, but that's nothing compared to the IV crap.
Yeah! More sleep for Jen. In fact she has so much energy that she's made two big meals the last two nights - fetticini alfredo last night for my birthday, and lasagna tonight. I'll be a fat as a tick soon:)
Thanks for all the prayers and thoughts.
WH
I'm glad to report that her tests were improved enough to remove the IV line that was in her arm (for the non-squeamish it's like a piece of latex angel hair spaghetti in her vein). The doctor prescribed more oral antibiotics for the next 10 days, but that's nothing compared to the IV crap.
Yeah! More sleep for Jen. In fact she has so much energy that she's made two big meals the last two nights - fetticini alfredo last night for my birthday, and lasagna tonight. I'll be a fat as a tick soon:)
Thanks for all the prayers and thoughts.
WH
10.12.2003
As A Little Child
This past weekend my wife and I went to a birthday party for her coworker's 2 year old son. It was an interesting scenario when we arrived - the only two year old at the party was birthday boy. The crowd consisted of his parents, grandparents, and assorted friends.
The most peculiar part of the afternoon, and the focus of this post, came when it was time to open the presents. There were a number of gifts for the little guy. Remember, this is his second birthday, he doesn't quite get the idea yet - at least the idea that WE think that he should get- so he's fairly unimpressed with all of the fuss.
One of the first gifts he opens was a plastic fire engine. This like a Fisher Price toy. Sturdy, lots of buttons that, when pushed, make noises, and those damn twist-ties that hold the toy to the cardboard so that...? What purpose do they serve anyway?
The little guy's eyes pop out. He is totally enamored by the toy. He starts riding on it, pushing the buttons, trying to pry the little men out of their seats (they are wired in with twist-ties too). A picture of total focus and satisfaction; happy as a pig in... well, you get the idea.
The problem was that the parents were trying to get him to open the other presents. He wanted nothing to do with any other gift. In fact, watching this fiasco, I was thinking "why does he have to open the other presents anyway?" Whatever the reason was, it had nothing to do with the child. Eventually, the fire truck had to be taken away from him so he would turn his attention to the other presents. After some effort on the part of his parents all of the presents were opened and he was able to return to playing with his fire truck again. Life was good.
As I reflected on this I realized that this is a picture of contentment, or lack thereof. Birthday boy doesn't yet have the mentality of looking past what he has to what he can obtain next - like we more mature folks have perfected. He was oblivious to the other gifts (though they were rightfully his) because he was intent on enjoying what he had in his hands.
What a lesson for many of us who are caught in a never ending pursuit of "whatever." I wonder how long it would have taken for him to eventually open all of the other gifts if he hadn't been prompted? Maybe days? Sadly, in a few years he may learn the ways of the discontented...looking for the next thing.
Until then, maybe he can be an inspiration for me to be content with what I already have - exploring life with intense wonder and curiosity.
Maybe that's part of what Jesus meant when he said that we should be "like a child?"
God, reignite child-like wonder, imagination, and curiosity in us all.
WH
The most peculiar part of the afternoon, and the focus of this post, came when it was time to open the presents. There were a number of gifts for the little guy. Remember, this is his second birthday, he doesn't quite get the idea yet - at least the idea that WE think that he should get- so he's fairly unimpressed with all of the fuss.
One of the first gifts he opens was a plastic fire engine. This like a Fisher Price toy. Sturdy, lots of buttons that, when pushed, make noises, and those damn twist-ties that hold the toy to the cardboard so that...? What purpose do they serve anyway?
The little guy's eyes pop out. He is totally enamored by the toy. He starts riding on it, pushing the buttons, trying to pry the little men out of their seats (they are wired in with twist-ties too). A picture of total focus and satisfaction; happy as a pig in... well, you get the idea.
The problem was that the parents were trying to get him to open the other presents. He wanted nothing to do with any other gift. In fact, watching this fiasco, I was thinking "why does he have to open the other presents anyway?" Whatever the reason was, it had nothing to do with the child. Eventually, the fire truck had to be taken away from him so he would turn his attention to the other presents. After some effort on the part of his parents all of the presents were opened and he was able to return to playing with his fire truck again. Life was good.
As I reflected on this I realized that this is a picture of contentment, or lack thereof. Birthday boy doesn't yet have the mentality of looking past what he has to what he can obtain next - like we more mature folks have perfected. He was oblivious to the other gifts (though they were rightfully his) because he was intent on enjoying what he had in his hands.
What a lesson for many of us who are caught in a never ending pursuit of "whatever." I wonder how long it would have taken for him to eventually open all of the other gifts if he hadn't been prompted? Maybe days? Sadly, in a few years he may learn the ways of the discontented...looking for the next thing.
Until then, maybe he can be an inspiration for me to be content with what I already have - exploring life with intense wonder and curiosity.
Maybe that's part of what Jesus meant when he said that we should be "like a child?"
God, reignite child-like wonder, imagination, and curiosity in us all.
WH
Community Is Important
The following article ran last week in our local paper. Many of us can state that this is true based on our own personal experience. Broken Heart Can Cause Real Pain
WH
WH
10.10.2003
Justice in Jail
Some of you may not like this story, but having seen the damage of abuse over the years, I have to agree with the mother of the victim that it must have been damn therapeutic.
Child Molester Beaten By Past Victim
WH
Child Molester Beaten By Past Victim
WH
10.08.2003
National Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Week - October 12 -18th
On September 25, the U.S. Senate passed a resolution declaring October 12 - 18, 2003 as National Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Week. Thanks to the efforts of Sen. Ben Nighthorse Campbell of Colorado, who sponsored the resolution along with 19 cosponsors, the national spotlight has, once again, been placed on CF and the importance of supporting CF research and care programs. Here is a link - Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Week.
Maybe you could look at the suggestions and increase your awareness.
Thanks,
WH
Maybe you could look at the suggestions and increase your awareness.
Thanks,
WH
10.06.2003
My Hero...
As I mentioned in an earlier post, my wife is going through a "clean out" (or "tune up", depending on who you talk to) for her cystic fibrosis.
The first week was a bitch. Insomnia, soreness, etc. due to side effects from the medication. She takes heavy doses of antibiotics intravenously twice a day, while working part time, being a step-mother to two teenagers, and living with me (the real challenge). In other parts of the country, and in Europe, people are routinely admitted into the hospital for these treatments.
Her second week was better after a medication change. She starts her third week today. Yeah!! Thanks for your prayers and thoughts. Down the stretch we come...
My wife is my hero, and my best friend. I am most blessed.
WH
The first week was a bitch. Insomnia, soreness, etc. due to side effects from the medication. She takes heavy doses of antibiotics intravenously twice a day, while working part time, being a step-mother to two teenagers, and living with me (the real challenge). In other parts of the country, and in Europe, people are routinely admitted into the hospital for these treatments.
Her second week was better after a medication change. She starts her third week today. Yeah!! Thanks for your prayers and thoughts. Down the stretch we come...
My wife is my hero, and my best friend. I am most blessed.
WH
10.05.2003
Distraction here at Home
I've been a bit remiss in posting to the blog for the past weekend as I am a sports freak. This past few days have been filled with great sports games - football, baseball, and soccer. This evening I am watching the Atlanta Braves hoping that they get into the next round of the playoffs.
I hope for a temporary return to sanity and blogging tomorrow - well, blogging at least.
WH
I hope for a temporary return to sanity and blogging tomorrow - well, blogging at least.
WH
10.01.2003
My Favorite Sport is at Risk
Today, October 1st, the National Do Not Call list goes into efffect. Damn. My favorite sport is at risk. You see, I like it when my caller ID says: Unavailable. My kids say, "Dad, pick it up, it's a telemarketer."
My goal, in this particular sport, is two-fold. One, to keep them one the line for a period of time, so they will not call others while engaged with me. Two, to get them to hang up.
Let me give you a few ideas to get you started.
1. Repeat everything the telemarketer says. This usually results in some general confusion, then the hang up.
2. Pretend, using some very broken English, that you don't understand the language and that you need a translator.
3. Take the counselor role. "How does it make you feel to have people hang up on you all day long?' Or "Does it bother you, deep inside, that you sell people things that they really don't need.
Some of my own experiences have been interesting.
One time I convinced the telemarketer that I had severe ADD and dyslexia and asked him to please read the information backwards - he did, while my wife, kids, and friends were listening on the muted speakerphone in the other room - rolling on the floor. After 15 minutes and two other telemarketers trying to help, the hang up came, with the promise to call back.
Another time, called by the State Police fundraisers, I placed my pinched thumb and forefinger up to my pursed lips, drew in a deep breath, and while holding my breath said, "Go ahead." Seconds later I exhaled slowly and loudly. You get the picture. "I'll call you later." Another hang up.
My hero is Tom Mabe. He has made a profession out of harassing telemarketers. Get the CD's if you like this stuff. He checked into a Washington D.C. hotel, where there was a Telemarketing convention, waited until 3 AM and started dialing room. This is great stuff.
Told you it was fun.
Anyway, there's the phone. Gotta go...
WH
My goal, in this particular sport, is two-fold. One, to keep them one the line for a period of time, so they will not call others while engaged with me. Two, to get them to hang up.
Let me give you a few ideas to get you started.
1. Repeat everything the telemarketer says. This usually results in some general confusion, then the hang up.
2. Pretend, using some very broken English, that you don't understand the language and that you need a translator.
3. Take the counselor role. "How does it make you feel to have people hang up on you all day long?' Or "Does it bother you, deep inside, that you sell people things that they really don't need.
Some of my own experiences have been interesting.
One time I convinced the telemarketer that I had severe ADD and dyslexia and asked him to please read the information backwards - he did, while my wife, kids, and friends were listening on the muted speakerphone in the other room - rolling on the floor. After 15 minutes and two other telemarketers trying to help, the hang up came, with the promise to call back.
Another time, called by the State Police fundraisers, I placed my pinched thumb and forefinger up to my pursed lips, drew in a deep breath, and while holding my breath said, "Go ahead." Seconds later I exhaled slowly and loudly. You get the picture. "I'll call you later." Another hang up.
My hero is Tom Mabe. He has made a profession out of harassing telemarketers. Get the CD's if you like this stuff. He checked into a Washington D.C. hotel, where there was a Telemarketing convention, waited until 3 AM and started dialing room. This is great stuff.
Told you it was fun.
Anyway, there's the phone. Gotta go...
WH
9.30.2003
Things That Go "Chirrrp" In The Night
"Chirrrp"
The sound first occurred in the middle of a dream. Isn't it incredible that you can dream around a noise that isn't really in your dream?
"Chirrrp"
My eyes were now wide open, staring at the clock radio. 4:40 AM.
"Chirrrp"
Actually, it's more like a "beep/chirp"
It's the frigging smoke detector. "Didn't I just change that battery?" Not much help at that moment in time to have those sort of dicussions with yourself. I get up, grab the flashlight, wander out of the bedroom, right under the offending intruder. Making my way through the living room I pass Cinnamon, our dog, looking at me from her crate, still laying on her side. Eyes are just slits. She's giving me that "This is different" look that only dogs can give when you break routine.
Focus...Get to the kitchen, take the last 9 volt battery out of the drawer, get the step ladder out of the garage and make my way back to the bedroom.
"Chirrrp".
"I hear you, you little bastard." I climb up, remove the battery and replace it. "Ahhh, that wasn't so bad." I fold the step ladder, wondering to myself why the batteries in smoke detectors only go bad early in the morning.
"Chirrrp"
"What the...Could that spare battery have been bad?" I walk over to the clock radio and remove the back-up battery that saves the time when the power goes out, climb back up, change batteries, climb down and walk back out through the living room to put the ladder away.
"Chirrrp"
"This can't be happening." The dog is now wide awake, standing in her crate. I let her out and put her in the back yard. Going back into the bedroom, I see my wife stirring. She's had a bad weekend in her treatment. Not much sleep. This really isn't a good night for the battery to go dead.
"Maybe, it's one of the other detectors", I think to myself. They are all tied into a main system that is hard wired to the main panel in the house. The batteries are just back up if the power goes off. Carrying the step ladder to the hallway in front of the kids room I remove the battery and replace it with the one originally from the kitchen. The old one is from when we moved into the new house two years ago. It isn't even alkaline. "That's it", I think triumphantly.
"Chirrrp"
The next minutes are a blur. I check the battery in my daughters (Jessie) room. It's fine. I go back to the master bedroom and inform my wife that she should go to Jessie's room as I have to turn the light on to deal with the problem. She stumbles out, groaning. I get back on the ladder, and check the battery, the old fashioned way, by touching it to my tongue. Buzzzt. Battery is good. It leaves that metallic taste in my mouth.
"Chirrrp"
I decide, in one final attempt, to just take the entire thing off of the ceiling. I take out the battery, twist the entire unit counter-clockwise, dropping it from it's place of annoyance. Using my Leathermans, I pry the connector from the back of the unit, placing it on the dresser. Down the ladder. Victory. Peace at last.
"Chirrrp"
"No fucking way!!" I stand in disbelief staring at the unit sitting on the dresser, holding the battery in my hand, thinking that I am in some "B" grade horror movie, "The Detector That Wouldn't Die". I walk back over to the dresser, about to take the hell-spawned piece of crap to the garage and throw it out, anywhere, as long as I didn't have to hear it again.
"Chirrrp"
I realize, in that one moment, that I am missing something. Finally, through the 5:00 AM fog in my head, as I look up and out through the bedroom door, I see the real problem. There is a small entryway to our bedroom. In this entryway is the intake for the A/C and heat, the thermostat, a light and the hatch to the attic. In this entryway, just above the doorway to the living room, is another smoke detector. Forgot about that one. It's not 2 feet away, just outside the door from the one in the bedroom that I had just taken down.
Climbing back up, I change the battery, climb back down and wait for the "chirrrp." It seemed like a long time....
No chirrrp. Silence. I still wait. After a few minutes, I get my wife and tell her she can go back to bed. The dog stays out in the back yard, and I turn out the lights and crawl back onto bed.
I look at the clock radio. 5:25 AM. I have to get up at 6:00 AM. Wasn't that fun?
I lie in bed wondering who was the person, or persons, responsible for creating that God-awful noise that smoke detectors make early in the morning. I mean, did they finally hear the noise after days of testing and say, "That is the most annoying noise we've ever heard, especially in the early morning, let's use it."
I would like to have a chat with that individual some day.
WH
The sound first occurred in the middle of a dream. Isn't it incredible that you can dream around a noise that isn't really in your dream?
"Chirrrp"
My eyes were now wide open, staring at the clock radio. 4:40 AM.
"Chirrrp"
Actually, it's more like a "beep/chirp"
It's the frigging smoke detector. "Didn't I just change that battery?" Not much help at that moment in time to have those sort of dicussions with yourself. I get up, grab the flashlight, wander out of the bedroom, right under the offending intruder. Making my way through the living room I pass Cinnamon, our dog, looking at me from her crate, still laying on her side. Eyes are just slits. She's giving me that "This is different" look that only dogs can give when you break routine.
Focus...Get to the kitchen, take the last 9 volt battery out of the drawer, get the step ladder out of the garage and make my way back to the bedroom.
"Chirrrp".
"I hear you, you little bastard." I climb up, remove the battery and replace it. "Ahhh, that wasn't so bad." I fold the step ladder, wondering to myself why the batteries in smoke detectors only go bad early in the morning.
"Chirrrp"
"What the...Could that spare battery have been bad?" I walk over to the clock radio and remove the back-up battery that saves the time when the power goes out, climb back up, change batteries, climb down and walk back out through the living room to put the ladder away.
"Chirrrp"
"This can't be happening." The dog is now wide awake, standing in her crate. I let her out and put her in the back yard. Going back into the bedroom, I see my wife stirring. She's had a bad weekend in her treatment. Not much sleep. This really isn't a good night for the battery to go dead.
"Maybe, it's one of the other detectors", I think to myself. They are all tied into a main system that is hard wired to the main panel in the house. The batteries are just back up if the power goes off. Carrying the step ladder to the hallway in front of the kids room I remove the battery and replace it with the one originally from the kitchen. The old one is from when we moved into the new house two years ago. It isn't even alkaline. "That's it", I think triumphantly.
"Chirrrp"
The next minutes are a blur. I check the battery in my daughters (Jessie) room. It's fine. I go back to the master bedroom and inform my wife that she should go to Jessie's room as I have to turn the light on to deal with the problem. She stumbles out, groaning. I get back on the ladder, and check the battery, the old fashioned way, by touching it to my tongue. Buzzzt. Battery is good. It leaves that metallic taste in my mouth.
"Chirrrp"
I decide, in one final attempt, to just take the entire thing off of the ceiling. I take out the battery, twist the entire unit counter-clockwise, dropping it from it's place of annoyance. Using my Leathermans, I pry the connector from the back of the unit, placing it on the dresser. Down the ladder. Victory. Peace at last.
"Chirrrp"
"No fucking way!!" I stand in disbelief staring at the unit sitting on the dresser, holding the battery in my hand, thinking that I am in some "B" grade horror movie, "The Detector That Wouldn't Die". I walk back over to the dresser, about to take the hell-spawned piece of crap to the garage and throw it out, anywhere, as long as I didn't have to hear it again.
"Chirrrp"
I realize, in that one moment, that I am missing something. Finally, through the 5:00 AM fog in my head, as I look up and out through the bedroom door, I see the real problem. There is a small entryway to our bedroom. In this entryway is the intake for the A/C and heat, the thermostat, a light and the hatch to the attic. In this entryway, just above the doorway to the living room, is another smoke detector. Forgot about that one. It's not 2 feet away, just outside the door from the one in the bedroom that I had just taken down.
Climbing back up, I change the battery, climb back down and wait for the "chirrrp." It seemed like a long time....
No chirrrp. Silence. I still wait. After a few minutes, I get my wife and tell her she can go back to bed. The dog stays out in the back yard, and I turn out the lights and crawl back onto bed.
I look at the clock radio. 5:25 AM. I have to get up at 6:00 AM. Wasn't that fun?
I lie in bed wondering who was the person, or persons, responsible for creating that God-awful noise that smoke detectors make early in the morning. I mean, did they finally hear the noise after days of testing and say, "That is the most annoying noise we've ever heard, especially in the early morning, let's use it."
I would like to have a chat with that individual some day.
WH
9.29.2003
A Child's Perspective on Grace
Just a short blurb. My son and I were standing at the front of the church one Sunday during worship. It must have been 13 or 14 years ago. We were singing to the song as the hand written transparency was projected on the screen.
This was a particular praise song that had the refrain "His grace is sufficient for me." I can't even remember the whole song right now.
At one point Jason was trying to say something, and being the little guy that he was, had to pull on my pant leg to get my attention. I picked him up and had him lean close to my ear so I could hear his voice over the music...
He said, "daddy, are you singing, 'His grace is fishing for me'?"
I stopped singing and thought..."No, but that's a better message than we are singing."
That's my boy...way beyond me. Hearing as a child.
Out of the mouths of babes. His grace is fishing. Wow.
WH
This was a particular praise song that had the refrain "His grace is sufficient for me." I can't even remember the whole song right now.
At one point Jason was trying to say something, and being the little guy that he was, had to pull on my pant leg to get my attention. I picked him up and had him lean close to my ear so I could hear his voice over the music...
He said, "daddy, are you singing, 'His grace is fishing for me'?"
I stopped singing and thought..."No, but that's a better message than we are singing."
That's my boy...way beyond me. Hearing as a child.
Out of the mouths of babes. His grace is fishing. Wow.
WH
9.28.2003
Wounded Healer - why the name?
The title for my blog comes from the title of a book by Henri J. M. Nouwen: The Wounded Healer.
Basically, the concept is that individuals, especially those in Christian ministry, must be vulnerable and honest with our own wounds in order to be effective healers.
The book strikes a blow to the professional aloofism (my own word I think) that many in ministry possess. People are hurting, and in order to help we must first acknowledge our own hurts and suffering. Then, as we heal,and move through the process of healing, we are of greater help to others.
The breakthroughs in my own life are examples of God's power and grace. Why would I be afraid to share them? Fear. Pride. Self-protection. All reasons, none sufficient.
I need others. And I need others to know me. Not the shell, but the core. I have found as we take the risk and get vulnerable healing CAN take place. To be sure, we can be hurt, betrayed, minimialized, etc. But, we must find community in the human condition where we can be ourselves and let others do the same. While at the same time being free to confront each others cultural addictions and failings without the defense mechanisms and bullshit that keeps us sick and unable to fulfill our dreams and desires - the very treasure that God has put in our hearts.
I have found that community in my church. When I left the ministry, I spent over a year working through the hurt and crap (still working through too). After that period of time I ( and my wife too) knew that the only way to get whole was in a community.
After all, the stuff in our heads can sound fine to us, but it may be total crap. We need others to help. Anyway, my standard for finding a church was a place where I could hear someone say "fuck" and "Jesus" in the same breath and be genuinely in love with God. My inspiration for this idea was Bono in the U2 Elevation concert that was taped in Boston, when he sings "Wake up Dead Man".
That way I could avoid the "posers" and "prophets" who scare the shit out of me. The ones who always have a word from God but no vulnerability. No transparency. No "limp".
Found one. The pastor is my friend and a fellow blogger - Hanson Carter. Our church is group of people just trying to move on in relationship with God and each other.
So, here I am. I drink beer. I cuss. I play cards. I'm fairly competitive, and I love God. And, the kicker, He loves me so much that I can hardly stand it, or understand it. In fact, Jesus is the most incredible person that I have ever met.
I am a wounded healer. So are you. We qualify. Any takers?
WH
PS - Today has been a particular difficult day for my wife as she goes though treatments for her cystic fibrosis. I think that I mentioned that I hate this fucking disease. If you pray, please pray. She hasn't been able to get much sleep this past week and is exhausted. Thanks.
Basically, the concept is that individuals, especially those in Christian ministry, must be vulnerable and honest with our own wounds in order to be effective healers.
The book strikes a blow to the professional aloofism (my own word I think) that many in ministry possess. People are hurting, and in order to help we must first acknowledge our own hurts and suffering. Then, as we heal,and move through the process of healing, we are of greater help to others.
The breakthroughs in my own life are examples of God's power and grace. Why would I be afraid to share them? Fear. Pride. Self-protection. All reasons, none sufficient.
I need others. And I need others to know me. Not the shell, but the core. I have found as we take the risk and get vulnerable healing CAN take place. To be sure, we can be hurt, betrayed, minimialized, etc. But, we must find community in the human condition where we can be ourselves and let others do the same. While at the same time being free to confront each others cultural addictions and failings without the defense mechanisms and bullshit that keeps us sick and unable to fulfill our dreams and desires - the very treasure that God has put in our hearts.
I have found that community in my church. When I left the ministry, I spent over a year working through the hurt and crap (still working through too). After that period of time I ( and my wife too) knew that the only way to get whole was in a community.
After all, the stuff in our heads can sound fine to us, but it may be total crap. We need others to help. Anyway, my standard for finding a church was a place where I could hear someone say "fuck" and "Jesus" in the same breath and be genuinely in love with God. My inspiration for this idea was Bono in the U2 Elevation concert that was taped in Boston, when he sings "Wake up Dead Man".
That way I could avoid the "posers" and "prophets" who scare the shit out of me. The ones who always have a word from God but no vulnerability. No transparency. No "limp".
Found one. The pastor is my friend and a fellow blogger - Hanson Carter. Our church is group of people just trying to move on in relationship with God and each other.
So, here I am. I drink beer. I cuss. I play cards. I'm fairly competitive, and I love God. And, the kicker, He loves me so much that I can hardly stand it, or understand it. In fact, Jesus is the most incredible person that I have ever met.
I am a wounded healer. So are you. We qualify. Any takers?
WH
PS - Today has been a particular difficult day for my wife as she goes though treatments for her cystic fibrosis. I think that I mentioned that I hate this fucking disease. If you pray, please pray. She hasn't been able to get much sleep this past week and is exhausted. Thanks.
9.27.2003
One of my favorite blogs
Check out this link to one of my favorite blogs. I am always inspired and moved by what RLP writes.
Real Live Preacher
WH
Real Live Preacher
WH
9.26.2003
Last of the "Gifts"
In two previous posts I mentioned two evident "gifts" that I have. One is the ability to have an assigned airplane seat within 1 row of a crying baby or screaming child. The second has to do with lines in department stores (9/25/03).
The last one that I will speak of is another "shared" gift. Meaning that I frequently talk to others who experience the same thing.
I can find the slowest driver on any particular two lane road. We have a by-pass around our fair city here in South Carolina. This by-pass, in theory, enables you to get from one side of town to the other without going through the main residential areas and traffic signals. A real time saver.
I say in theory. Time isn't saved. It seems that where ever I find myself on the by-pass I will get behind a driver that is driving 10 - 15 miles under the posted speed limit. The miracle of proportionality demonstrated here is amazing. The speed limit on this roadway ranges between 35 and 55 MPH. Why the drivers aren't going 45 in the 35 I really can't explain.
Again, my wife is a witness to this, and she frequently looks over at me says, "unbelievable".
The by-pass is but one example, any two lane road will do. Frequently I get stuck behind logging trucks, garbage haulers, smokey, battered vehicles (we have no vehicle inspection or emmisions control in SC), mobile homes being taken to their destination, or funeral processions.
Anyone else? Do you share my pain?
Have a great weekend.
WH
The last one that I will speak of is another "shared" gift. Meaning that I frequently talk to others who experience the same thing.
I can find the slowest driver on any particular two lane road. We have a by-pass around our fair city here in South Carolina. This by-pass, in theory, enables you to get from one side of town to the other without going through the main residential areas and traffic signals. A real time saver.
I say in theory. Time isn't saved. It seems that where ever I find myself on the by-pass I will get behind a driver that is driving 10 - 15 miles under the posted speed limit. The miracle of proportionality demonstrated here is amazing. The speed limit on this roadway ranges between 35 and 55 MPH. Why the drivers aren't going 45 in the 35 I really can't explain.
Again, my wife is a witness to this, and she frequently looks over at me says, "unbelievable".
The by-pass is but one example, any two lane road will do. Frequently I get stuck behind logging trucks, garbage haulers, smokey, battered vehicles (we have no vehicle inspection or emmisions control in SC), mobile homes being taken to their destination, or funeral processions.
Anyone else? Do you share my pain?
Have a great weekend.
WH
9.25.2003
"Checkout Line Gift"
Previously I spoke on my unique ability to draw crying babies or bratty children to within one row of my airplane seat(9/23/03 blog).
For my next act, one more commonly shared, I will draw back the curtain and reveal my "Checkout line Gift". When I get in the checkout line at virtually any large department store, especially during peak hours and holiday times, I will inevitably get behind someone who experiences one of (or a combination of ) the following:
1. Oh, shoot that was my last check I wrote earlier this morning. Let me call my husband who is out in the car to come in and pay.
2. Did I only get one of those, I wanted two.
3. That can't be the right price. I'm sure that it said $5.95 instead of $6.95.
4. I forgot my lettuce. I'll be right back.
5. How much? I guess that I have to take these off of the ticket, or maybe these, no wait...
6. I'm sorry sir, but it's shift change and I need to close out my register. Your new cashier is on the way.
It is so frequent that anyone that gets behind me in line receives a complimentary warning. I try and let them know that this would be a "waiting" line. I then proceed to explain the "gift". They usually smile understandably and stay in line. Ten minutes later they are looking for the next line to get into.
Initially I explored all sorts of reasons as to why this was happening to me.
Spiritual reasons ranged from God wanting me to learn patience to the Devil wanting me to kill people and go to jail.
Paranoid reasonings that people had it out for me and just waited for me to get to the store to mess with my head (lithium took care of those).
Logical thoughts that this was just coincidence were overshadowed by the sheer volume of incidences.
I tested it out. I would go the shortest line...same thing. I then thought that I would go to the longest line and fake out the gift. No luck. Same result.
I finally accepted that this was just to be. One of those things that is. Something not to be toyed with.
Acceptance is the final stage isn't it?
See you in line:)
WH
For my next act, one more commonly shared, I will draw back the curtain and reveal my "Checkout line Gift". When I get in the checkout line at virtually any large department store, especially during peak hours and holiday times, I will inevitably get behind someone who experiences one of (or a combination of ) the following:
1. Oh, shoot that was my last check I wrote earlier this morning. Let me call my husband who is out in the car to come in and pay.
2. Did I only get one of those, I wanted two.
3. That can't be the right price. I'm sure that it said $5.95 instead of $6.95.
4. I forgot my lettuce. I'll be right back.
5. How much? I guess that I have to take these off of the ticket, or maybe these, no wait...
6. I'm sorry sir, but it's shift change and I need to close out my register. Your new cashier is on the way.
It is so frequent that anyone that gets behind me in line receives a complimentary warning. I try and let them know that this would be a "waiting" line. I then proceed to explain the "gift". They usually smile understandably and stay in line. Ten minutes later they are looking for the next line to get into.
Initially I explored all sorts of reasons as to why this was happening to me.
Spiritual reasons ranged from God wanting me to learn patience to the Devil wanting me to kill people and go to jail.
Paranoid reasonings that people had it out for me and just waited for me to get to the store to mess with my head (lithium took care of those).
Logical thoughts that this was just coincidence were overshadowed by the sheer volume of incidences.
I tested it out. I would go the shortest line...same thing. I then thought that I would go to the longest line and fake out the gift. No luck. Same result.
I finally accepted that this was just to be. One of those things that is. Something not to be toyed with.
Acceptance is the final stage isn't it?
See you in line:)
WH
9.24.2003
Un-Frigging-believable
As I sat down preparing to continue my rantings about the "gifts" that I have, I remembered something from our local newspaper that I read the other day. Sorry to diverge but I had to say something.
We have a "rant line". People can call in and leave a rant or a rave. The crap that they publish is sometimes embarrassing. This entry defies words.
An individual stated that God's anger was released against the US for the removal of the Ten Commandments that were in the courthouse in Alabama. The reasoning went like this.
The Ten Commandments were removed. Then a category 5 hurricane formed off of the coast. The hurricane hit Washington DC and all 50 state flags were torn from their flag poles at the capitol. This was God's show of disapproval.
What is that? 10 times 5 is 50? Didn't the hurricane diminish to a category 2? Huh? Can someone out there help me?
I'm just numb. The saddest thing is that this person probably heard this crap from a pulpit somewhere (TV or local).
My sincere apologies to those who are watching and wondering what type of God may or may not be there. Ignore the bullshit, seek truth. Where there is mercy, life, and kindness you will find true spiritually.
WH
We have a "rant line". People can call in and leave a rant or a rave. The crap that they publish is sometimes embarrassing. This entry defies words.
An individual stated that God's anger was released against the US for the removal of the Ten Commandments that were in the courthouse in Alabama. The reasoning went like this.
The Ten Commandments were removed. Then a category 5 hurricane formed off of the coast. The hurricane hit Washington DC and all 50 state flags were torn from their flag poles at the capitol. This was God's show of disapproval.
What is that? 10 times 5 is 50? Didn't the hurricane diminish to a category 2? Huh? Can someone out there help me?
I'm just numb. The saddest thing is that this person probably heard this crap from a pulpit somewhere (TV or local).
My sincere apologies to those who are watching and wondering what type of God may or may not be there. Ignore the bullshit, seek truth. Where there is mercy, life, and kindness you will find true spiritually.
WH
9.23.2003
Certain Gifts Are Not Always Good
Those who have been around me for a while, especially traveling with me, will tell you that I have some very interesting gifts.
Gift One. No matter where I sit on a plane, a bratty child or screaming baby will be within one row in either direction. There have been exceptions, but for the most part the axiom holds true.
One very memorable trip was a return flight from Seattle. As I entered the airport I passed a young boy, 9 or 10 years of age, who was throwing a HUGE tantrum. Crying, contorting, flailing, whining. This was a real beauty. Mind you, this occured at the ticket counter at the front of the airport.
As I stood in line for ticketing it wasn't hard to discover the reason for the young lads antics. It seems that he had a toy gun, very realistic in appearance, that the airline insisted that he could not board the plane with. This was in 1999, so the whole security issue wasn't as important as it is today, but there were still regulations. The parents had to check the gun in with the luggage as the boy screamed all the louder as he was disarmed and learned that the next time he would take possession of his weapon was at their final destination.
I was relieved as I received my ticket and made my way through the concourse to my gate. Thankfully as I moved on, the wailing faded.
After the usual wait at the gate I boarded my plane, took my seat, and settled in for the flight. The plane was packed with people and, just as last boarding was called, guess who shows up. Yep. Tantrum boy. I heard him before I saw him. I was totally unprepared for this. If I had been given some time to steel myself I would have been ready - well not ready, but better prepared. However, as I waited the hour before boarding there was no sign of the kid. No. This was a ninja style attack.
So the family boards. The parents are now attending to some other unmet expectation that little king tut had. Just fill in the blank. The best was yet to come. The only three empty seats left in my line of vision were right in front of me. "Please God" I muttered, hoping to find some relief from heaven. It was not to come. People on all sides were rolling their eyes at each other as the parents made smirky, apologetic expressions to anyone who caught their embarrassed glance.
I'll spare you any more details except to note that the kid eventually worked himself into such a frenzy that he required the use of an air sickness bag two hours out of Charlotte, NC. He made one more whimper after puking and went to sleep. There is a God.
I was so glad to get off of that plane and get to my seat on my connection to Atlanta that I failed to notice the baby, wrapped in a blanket, in the arms of the woman seated in the row behind me. The flight wasn't quiet.
Did I mention that I had a gift?
Next installment - my special gift in the grocery line.
WH
Gift One. No matter where I sit on a plane, a bratty child or screaming baby will be within one row in either direction. There have been exceptions, but for the most part the axiom holds true.
One very memorable trip was a return flight from Seattle. As I entered the airport I passed a young boy, 9 or 10 years of age, who was throwing a HUGE tantrum. Crying, contorting, flailing, whining. This was a real beauty. Mind you, this occured at the ticket counter at the front of the airport.
As I stood in line for ticketing it wasn't hard to discover the reason for the young lads antics. It seems that he had a toy gun, very realistic in appearance, that the airline insisted that he could not board the plane with. This was in 1999, so the whole security issue wasn't as important as it is today, but there were still regulations. The parents had to check the gun in with the luggage as the boy screamed all the louder as he was disarmed and learned that the next time he would take possession of his weapon was at their final destination.
I was relieved as I received my ticket and made my way through the concourse to my gate. Thankfully as I moved on, the wailing faded.
After the usual wait at the gate I boarded my plane, took my seat, and settled in for the flight. The plane was packed with people and, just as last boarding was called, guess who shows up. Yep. Tantrum boy. I heard him before I saw him. I was totally unprepared for this. If I had been given some time to steel myself I would have been ready - well not ready, but better prepared. However, as I waited the hour before boarding there was no sign of the kid. No. This was a ninja style attack.
So the family boards. The parents are now attending to some other unmet expectation that little king tut had. Just fill in the blank. The best was yet to come. The only three empty seats left in my line of vision were right in front of me. "Please God" I muttered, hoping to find some relief from heaven. It was not to come. People on all sides were rolling their eyes at each other as the parents made smirky, apologetic expressions to anyone who caught their embarrassed glance.
I'll spare you any more details except to note that the kid eventually worked himself into such a frenzy that he required the use of an air sickness bag two hours out of Charlotte, NC. He made one more whimper after puking and went to sleep. There is a God.
I was so glad to get off of that plane and get to my seat on my connection to Atlanta that I failed to notice the baby, wrapped in a blanket, in the arms of the woman seated in the row behind me. The flight wasn't quiet.
Did I mention that I had a gift?
Next installment - my special gift in the grocery line.
WH
9.22.2003
I Just Love Hospitals
I just love hospitals.
Arrived this morning for the installation of Jen’s PIC line. The hospital was excellent, actually. It was the Dr.’s office that hadn’t faxed over the prescription for the procedure. We waited…
Hospital bathrooms are nasty. I had to lift the toilet seat with the tip of my toe to take a piss. When I did that I see the pee that the previous person left ON the seat run down the underside of the rim onto the cold porcelain. Yummy!
Next we go to the radiology department and I stand by and watch as they put an IV in Jen’s arm in order to put the PIC line in…say what! Yes, you heard that right. Start a line to start a line somewhere else. She cries. Not big tears and sobs. Just the “wet the corners that need a dab” cry. “You’d think that I would be used to needles by now, “ she says. The nurse says that if she were used to needles she would worry about Jen.
Then they call her name (after finally getting the fax for the order from the Dr. – we’ll have a “little chat” about that later when we get to the Dr’s office) and, as we stand to go down the hall, the nurse points the opposite direction from where they are taking my wife, and tells me to have a seat in the waiting room, she’ll come get me when they are done.
I just love hospitals.
In the waiting room are the same people that come with all hospitals when they are constructed. The people are part of the furnishings. The bratty kid that crawls over and under the furniture while the parent makes empty threats. The SNORNING lady who’s “grunt snore” actually drowns out the TVs, the intercom, and the voices of the nurses calling to people waiting to be stuck so they can be stuck. The snoring drowns out everyone except the cell phone user who is SO obnoxious that people actually move closer to the snoring lady. She just turned it up a notch – thanks Emeril.
I just love hospitals.
Also in the waiting room are too many TVs, all trying to get attention from the people sitting in the uncomfortable vinyl seats trying to get away form the snoring lady. On one TV we have Maury doing a Montel. DNA testing to see the paternity of an adult for some confused child/adult or a wife trying to see if the affair she had actually spawned the latest child or was the real father her husband. On the other we have CNBC with the stock market losing some ground that was gained last week. Which one fits the atmosphere better is up to you. Which set were people glued to? Buy stock in Montel and Maury.
Where is my wife?
I just fucking hate hospitals.
WH
Arrived this morning for the installation of Jen’s PIC line. The hospital was excellent, actually. It was the Dr.’s office that hadn’t faxed over the prescription for the procedure. We waited…
Hospital bathrooms are nasty. I had to lift the toilet seat with the tip of my toe to take a piss. When I did that I see the pee that the previous person left ON the seat run down the underside of the rim onto the cold porcelain. Yummy!
Next we go to the radiology department and I stand by and watch as they put an IV in Jen’s arm in order to put the PIC line in…say what! Yes, you heard that right. Start a line to start a line somewhere else. She cries. Not big tears and sobs. Just the “wet the corners that need a dab” cry. “You’d think that I would be used to needles by now, “ she says. The nurse says that if she were used to needles she would worry about Jen.
Then they call her name (after finally getting the fax for the order from the Dr. – we’ll have a “little chat” about that later when we get to the Dr’s office) and, as we stand to go down the hall, the nurse points the opposite direction from where they are taking my wife, and tells me to have a seat in the waiting room, she’ll come get me when they are done.
I just love hospitals.
In the waiting room are the same people that come with all hospitals when they are constructed. The people are part of the furnishings. The bratty kid that crawls over and under the furniture while the parent makes empty threats. The SNORNING lady who’s “grunt snore” actually drowns out the TVs, the intercom, and the voices of the nurses calling to people waiting to be stuck so they can be stuck. The snoring drowns out everyone except the cell phone user who is SO obnoxious that people actually move closer to the snoring lady. She just turned it up a notch – thanks Emeril.
I just love hospitals.
Also in the waiting room are too many TVs, all trying to get attention from the people sitting in the uncomfortable vinyl seats trying to get away form the snoring lady. On one TV we have Maury doing a Montel. DNA testing to see the paternity of an adult for some confused child/adult or a wife trying to see if the affair she had actually spawned the latest child or was the real father her husband. On the other we have CNBC with the stock market losing some ground that was gained last week. Which one fits the atmosphere better is up to you. Which set were people glued to? Buy stock in Montel and Maury.
Where is my wife?
I just fucking hate hospitals.
WH
This Day Blows!
Today Jen, my wife, and I are going to Columbia, SC. Usually we go to eat, play, or shop. Today we go to her CF(cystic fibrosis) doctor to start her "clean out". A clean out is a procedure that people with CF go through frequently in order to kill the infection that grows in the lungs of people with CF.
The procedure starts with a single lumen line that is threaded into her arm so the antibiotics will not burn her veins. She will use three antibiotic doses per day in this IV line, each one followed by saline, then heparin so the blood doesn't clot. This will go on for 2 to 3 weeks depending on her PFT's (pulmonary function tests). We will travel to Columbia each week to do the check.
The idea is that the antibiotics kill enough infection that the small airways open up again and she can breath better. CF sucks ass. If you are not familiar with it you can check out the CFF site here (CFF).
Oh, by the way, my wife is my hero. She lives with this fucking disease each day, doesn't complain, brings smiles to the faces of many people that she is around, and plows through.
I love my wife. I hate CF.
God give me strength.
WH
The procedure starts with a single lumen line that is threaded into her arm so the antibiotics will not burn her veins. She will use three antibiotic doses per day in this IV line, each one followed by saline, then heparin so the blood doesn't clot. This will go on for 2 to 3 weeks depending on her PFT's (pulmonary function tests). We will travel to Columbia each week to do the check.
The idea is that the antibiotics kill enough infection that the small airways open up again and she can breath better. CF sucks ass. If you are not familiar with it you can check out the CFF site here (CFF).
Oh, by the way, my wife is my hero. She lives with this fucking disease each day, doesn't complain, brings smiles to the faces of many people that she is around, and plows through.
I love my wife. I hate CF.
God give me strength.
WH
9.21.2003
The Health Club Business and Jesus!
There are many stories to tell that bring me up to this particular point in my life...maybe more on that later. Prior to my involvement in the health club business, I was in full-time Christian ministry for 18 years. The transition from one to the other shed light on the fact that there are some amazing similarities between the health and fitness business and ministry. I will list one here.
When I go out in public it is usually to take care of personal business - shopping, eating, walking the dog, etc. I know that I do not go out to create a sense of guilt in others...HOWEVER...
When I pastored, and now as a manager of a health club and personal trainer, I encounter people who immediately begin to apologize for not being at the club(church), for not sticking with the program, for not being in touch more, and any number of excuses that I could give a rats ass about.
Then in a final, parting expression of guilt, they promise to come see me soon!
Amazing. Each time this happens when my wife is with me she shakes her head in disbelief.
Look, it's not like I carry a set of body fat calipers around, or wear t-shirts that say something like "Burn Calories, or Burn in Hell".
Funny. Sometimes seeing me even reminds people that they haven't been using something that they have been paying for. Then they come by the club and cancel their membership.
I wish that people would make that much closure in church, where they are supposed to have relationships with others. At least it makes me think...
Thanks for listening. More later.
WoundedHealer
When I go out in public it is usually to take care of personal business - shopping, eating, walking the dog, etc. I know that I do not go out to create a sense of guilt in others...HOWEVER...
When I pastored, and now as a manager of a health club and personal trainer, I encounter people who immediately begin to apologize for not being at the club(church), for not sticking with the program, for not being in touch more, and any number of excuses that I could give a rats ass about.
Then in a final, parting expression of guilt, they promise to come see me soon!
Amazing. Each time this happens when my wife is with me she shakes her head in disbelief.
Look, it's not like I carry a set of body fat calipers around, or wear t-shirts that say something like "Burn Calories, or Burn in Hell".
Funny. Sometimes seeing me even reminds people that they haven't been using something that they have been paying for. Then they come by the club and cancel their membership.
I wish that people would make that much closure in church, where they are supposed to have relationships with others. At least it makes me think...
Thanks for listening. More later.
WoundedHealer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
