One of my all time favorite movie quotes is spoken by Navin R. Johnson (Steve Martin), in The Jerk:  I know we’ve only known each other for four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days.  The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days.  And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days.  And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it…

I’ve been on dates like that – only I’d have to substitute minutes for days.  Seriously.  The date is over and I feel an overwhelming urge to grab the shoulders of the stranger walking next to me and scream, “What day is it?!!” because I’m certain I must have lost several. 

I don’t know about you, but something tells me this is a bad sign.  Sigh. 

I was raised Pentecostal.  My father was a “Holy Roller,” my mom a Baptist, and I settled somewhere in the middle.  Catholic or no, I’ve always liked the idea of Lent.  Giving something up for God, who gave so much for us, seems a good way to say thanks.

But have you ever noticed?  It’s often all about us.  We surrender things we love, sure.  We give up our coffee, our sugar, our television.  We do so for God; but the end result is often to our benefit. 

This year, it’s different. 

This year the church I attend is joining countless others in “Seek God for the City 2009.”  Starting Wednesday, February 25 – for forty days leading to Palm Sunday – we have been praying the same promises, for the same people, on behalf of the same countries.  If I thought it a good idea when I picked up the book, I think it’s an amazing idea now.  There are countries I never knew existed; there are groups of people I may complain about, but never thought to pray for.  

Guess you might say I’m giving a bit of myself, to seek God’s blessing for others. 

And prayer seems a natural extension to the usual Lenten offering.  After all, Christ gave his very life to save the lives of others; it’s only fitting that we should give a few minutes that we might be a part of the same.

And now, a few words … 

Loving is not just looking at each other, it's looking in the same direction.  ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wind, Sand, and Stars, 1939

I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day.  When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.  ~Author Unknown

For you see, each day I love you more
Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.
~Rosemonde Gerard

We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.  ~Author Unknown

kisses are a better fate
than wisdom.
~e.e. cummings

Who, being loved, is poor?  ~Oscar Wilde

True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights.  If you hear bells, get your ears checked.  ~Erich Segal

Are we not like two volumes of one book?  ~Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly.  ~Rose Franken

Laugh as much as you breathe and love as long as you live.  ~Author Unknown

Here it is, dear readers: 2009.  May it be grand!

I don't know about you, but I've been mulling my goals for the year.  Perhaps because I'm unemployed, perhaps because I'm older, but this year I've been convicted to understand the reason behind my resolutions.  Why do I want to accomplish these goals?   Is it just so I can say I did?  Is it for my own benefit?  The benefit of others? 

Granted, there's nothing wrong with a frivolous resolution or two.  As a matter of fact, no matter how deeply I consider my choices for the year, I'm keeping my resolution to be a gun slinger.  YEEHA! 

But this year, I also want to reach for the lofty.  Won't you join me?  Let us be determined to set our energies to that which will not only benefit ourselves and those around us - but that which will have a lasting effect.  After all, as Les Brown once said, Shoot for the moon.  Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!      

“But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today, in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” –Luke 2:10-11

There they were, in the darkest of nights, keeping watch over their flocks. They had no idea that the God of the Universe had His eye on them. Who would? They were shepherds. Most the younger son of peasant farmers, they had no land to call their own. No family. They lived a life separate from society; a life focused on the flock in their care. But God knew everything about those shepherds – from each hair atop their heads, to the grime on the bottom of their feet. He knew each name, each face, each scent. He knew from whence they came and the direction they were heading; He knew their hopes, disappointments, worries, and regrets. He knew they needed saving. He knows the same of us. He could have rescued us from afar. Instead he sent His most precious possession to the muck and mire of our lives – tangible proof that He’s in our corner. We turn our backs on Him; he continues to pursue us. We work ourselves into a wretched state; He sends salvation. And He’s never closer than in the darkness of night; when all seems lost, that’s when His light shines brightest. If we but take our eyes off our circumstances and look up, we’ll find the message is the same: Do not fear; I bring you good news of great joy...

Of all the questions posed at the Presidential Debate last night, one shone above the rest. Emailed from a lady in her 70’s, she noted that since WWII, we as individuals have not been asked to sacrifice anything but the blood of our sons and daughters. As President, she asked, what would you require citizens to give up for the good of the Country.

Such an amazing question – sadly, the answers did not rise to the occasion. I can’t say I blame them. Who wants to be the candidate to say they will make Americans – of all people – sacrifice for the good of their – GASP! – neighbors!

Yet it may be the only answer worthy of breath …

With the economic crisis of today being compared to the great depression, I can’t help but wonder if we have character enough to rise above. We’ve lived a lifetime getting what we want, when we want it. But if you look back to those who walked this road before, the road to recovery required each person doing his or her part – everyone, not just the government. They didn’t charge more – they didn’t have that luxury. If they couldn’t afford it, they went without. They learned to share, to cut back where they could, to be ingenious at making a living. When it came time to ration, they rationed – and they did it for the good of the nation.

Do we have it in us to do the same? The question demands an answer not only from the future president, but you and me as well.

As a citizen of the United States of America, what are you willing to sacrifice for the good of our country?

It's the first day of Autumn.  My favorite time of year.  Sigh. 

William Allingham once said, "Autumn is the mellow time."  If it isn't so, at least it should be.  It is, after all, the time leading into those hectic-days-of-holidays.  It's only right we breathe in the brisk fall air and glory in the rich hues around us. 

So this year, let us make an effort to enjoy the gifts of autumn - light candles, stoke a fire, snuggle up to a good classic, brew some tea, sip some java, bake some homemade goodness, and spend countless hours enjoying the company of friends ...    

Oh, that's right ... it's only Thursday.  Sigh.

I've been a day off all week.  Monday I thought was Tuesday, Tuesday/Wednesday, Wednesday/Thursday, Thursday ... well, you get the idea.  And the days have seemed longer than your typical 24-hour period.  Navin R. Johnson (The Jerk - 1979) explained the phenomenon perfectly: the first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days...

Wretched luck really. 

I guess I have one thing going for me - I'll be all the more happy when the weekend finally arrives in another day ... or ten ...

Kirk Franklin came up in a conversation the other day.  I love him.  Sigh.  Seriously.  He's a gifted singer/songwriter.  His songs come from the heart - a rarity at times in Christian music.  Seems too often nowadays spiritual songs are little more than regurgitation.  Everything we've heard before, with a little different twang.  Apparently, however, not everyone feels as I do (SHOCKING, I know).  The minute I mentioned Kirk Franklin, the face of the women turned grave.  "I was listening to Hero the other morning", she whispered, "It's good but ... it's so very depressing."  She shook her head, emphasizing the pity of it all.  Depressing.  Huh.  As many times as I have listened to that CD, depression has never once come to mind.  Hope in the midst of despair, maybe.  But hope.  I can't help but wonder if what she really has a problem with is the truthfulness.  Us Christians aren't always comfortable with the truth.  How are you doing? one will ask.  Blessed! replies the other.  Yes, we are blessed; but here's the thing, we live in a fallen world.  The simple fact remains, some times life is crap.  There's pain and suffering, trials and disappointment.  Loved ones leave us, they let us down.  Dreams wither and die.  Our bodies fail us.  That's life.  We cannot pretend the hardships of life are not there, or that they do not affect us.  Even David - a man after God's own heart - admitted to the misery of life.  Only through acknowledging can we learn to live victorious.  As Kirk Franklin says in "Let it Go" ... "Church taught me how to shout and how to speak in tongues; but preacher teach me how to live now that the tongue is done."  Perhaps now, more than ever the church needs to rise up and face the truth - even if it ain't pretty - to acknowledge that no, life is not always easy or fair - but we're here for a reason - and we can live a righteous life, warts and all ...

You see them every year - veterans selling small paper poppies.  Every year fewer of us seem to take note - we simply haven't the time.  We should take the time, however.  For poppies, you see, are rather amazing flowers.  Though they appear frail, they are quite valiant.  Their seeds can remain underground, sleeping, for years.  All it takes is a good churning of the soil to awaken them from their slumber.  And that's exactly what happened on the fields of Northern France and Flanders during WWI.  Amid the death and destruction of the battlefield, red poppies began to bloom.  One day Lt. Col. John McCrae, a physician from Canada, looked out over the crimson blossoms and penned the following:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow; Between the crosses, row on row; That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly; Scarce heard amid the guns below; We are the Dead.  Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved; and now we lie In Flanders field...

McCrae died a few years later - joining those of whom he wrote, with a cross marking his place, in a sea of poppies, far from home.  But McCrae's words continue to remind us of the countless men and women who have given their lives for freedom.  They paid the highest price.  The least we can do is be thankful for the sacrifice.  So this Memorial Day let us take the time.  Buy a poppy.  Say a prayer.  Remember. 

I remember the first time I saw a black man.  I couldn't have been more than four and I loudly exclaimed, "Boy!  That man SURE is dirty!" Much to my mother's complete and utter horror. 

Finally, I found the flip side.  I'm currently reading What is the What, by Dave Eggers.  It's a novel based on the life of Valentino Achak Deng - one of the "Lost Boys" from Sudan.  He describes the first time he saw a white man:  I followed their stares and saw what seemed to be a man who had been turned inside out.  He was the absence of a man.  He had been erased.

If you think about it, it's the perfect description!  Now, if only adults could be like children and realize it's only color.  There's much more we hold in common, than in difference. 

From the moment I met my Danish friend, Vibeke, she gushed the virtues of her home country.  I, in turn, would smile sweetly, nod my head agreeably, and silently question her remarks.  After all, a good many people think their country best. 

So it came as a bit of a shock to me - and everyone who knew me - when I paid a wee visit to Copenhagen and was instantly smitten.

I loved the history and strolling the cobblestone streets.  I loved the glow of candles.  There are all sorts and varieties - tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones, on plates, on holders, in chandeliers, in lanterns.  And they're everywhere - lining window seals and entryways, adorning tables and service counters.  I loved the brightly colored buildings standing in attention on the "naughty" side - as if the structures themselves are in a constant state of celebration.  I loved the artwork, everywhere you looked - the dragon carved above the shop entryway, lizard tails forming the spire of a magnificent building, a man and his sons underwater statues, or the infamous Little Mermaid, never without her admirers.  I loved that I could take a drive along a winding road, lined with lush trees and thatched roof houses, until I came to the end and Hamlet's Castle.  There I could look across the water and wave to neighboring Sweden.  I loved that nationals are fiercely loyal to their royal family - and after perusing replica's of the King's studies adorned with picture after picture of loved ones, I loved that I felt a certain respect for them too. 

They say Denmark is the happiest place on earth.  They aren't the richest, nor the healthiest.  And yet they're the happiest. 

Copenhagen is known as the City of Fairy Tales.  Albert Einstein once said, "If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales.  If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales."  Perhaps there lies the key - in a land that has actually produced fairy tales, perhaps they know a thing or two.  Perhaps they truly understand the greatest wisdom of all - it's not what you have or haven't, it's being happy where you're at.       

"Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem.  They were talking with each other about everything that had happened..." - Luke 24:13-14

There they are – two of Christ’s followers – trudging the old dirt road leading to Emmaus. Kicking pebbles here and there, they keep their arms folded, their eyes downcast. They talk in despairing voices. How could they have killed Jesus? Did they not hear his teachings? Did they not see the miracles? Why did God let it happen? His own son! With the Savior dead and buried, what hope does Israel have now? And Judas! Don’t even get me started on Judas!

They’re so into their discussion they don’t even see the stranger now walking beside them. “What are you talking about?” He asks. Can’t you just see the twinkle in His eye? They stop walking; but they just can’t bring themselves to look up. The question doesn’t even merit a response. Don’t you know? The stranger shrugs, shakes his head, inquires further, and the floodgates open. They tell it all. Every wretched detail – His name was Jesus, they begin. They tell of his signs and wonders – and how, despite all His great words and deeds, their own rulers handed Him over to be sentenced to death. Only three days earlier, they explain, He was crucified on an old wooden cross. He died and was buried, along with their hope for salvation. Then, to top it all off, the women went to His tomb, found it empty, and now claim He has risen from the dead.

All this and Jesus was right before their eyes. How could they have missed Him? How could we? We know He rose from the dead – we’ve read the scriptures, heard the sermons, and sang the songs. Yet when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of life, we often live as though He were dead. We focus on our despair, we try to fix things ourselves, we try to carry the burden alone. All this when the one who walked before us – the one who understands the burden of this world more than anyone –who laughed and cried, who felt the joy of friendship and the pang of betrayal, who felt misunderstood, alone, and abandoned – He is not dead. He is risen; and He walks right beside us. Tell me, He says. All we have to do is look up.

A friend and I have started meeting for Bible Study at 6:15 IN THE MORNING!  [whimper]  It is only once a week.  So I think I will survive.  Since it was OBVIOUSLY too early in the morning to make decisions, we opted to start with Romans.  And, as so often happens with the words of Romans, our conversation quickly turned to the world around us. 

I have often heard people complain that faith is a crutch.  That only the simple minded and weak lean upon the God of the Universe.  But looking around, I see that quite the opposite is true.  To truly study the Bible - and not pick and choose - takes discipline.  To have faith in one God - even when you are persecuted - takes devotion.  To stand for your beliefs - even when they counter society - takes courage.  It's not always the easy road.

And yet, if you truly delve into the scriptures you'll see it's a perfect roadmap.  It really is the only journey worth taking.  So why do so many who start believing the words of the Bible stray?!  I believe Alexander Solzhenitsyn sums it perfectly: "We do not err because truth is difficult to see.  It is visible at a glance.  We err because this is more comfortable."          

Let's face it - it's not easy to stand apart from the crowd.  Especially if you are being ridiculed.  The world says only the foolish believe in something they can't see.  We certainly don't want to be foolish!  The world says only the hateful preach against such things as abortion or gay rights.  We certainly don't want to be hateful!  The world says only the old-fashioned talk about ONE way to heaven.  We certainly don't want to be old-fashioned.  So we nod our heads graciously.  We shrug and we smile.  We may even apologize.  You're right, we say, it's no a big deal ... it's basically all the same. At least it's more comfortable.