THE UN-DOORSTOP
Footnote to Sunday’s story about the Pumpkinheads and the sleepy med student:
It was a Halloween night long, long ago. The ghosties and goblins were out in full force. One group in particular featured two tall dads and four little kids. It had gotten very cold and icy.
When they went up the steps of one small porch and rang the bell, the master of the castle opened the storm door outward, and the wind must have caught it.
It banged into one little ghost and knocked him all the way into the snow below.
Not a very nice trick . . . but it sure provides a funny treat in the telling, years and years later.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Sunday, October 30, 2005
PUMPKINHEADS
(H)e hath no form of comeliness;
and when we shall see him
there is no beauty that we should desire him.
He is despised and rejected of men. . . .
-- Isaiah 53:2b,3a
A bunch of us new college graduates had gathered at a local establishment which served festive beverages. We had pretty much taken over the place, which was all decked out for Halloween.
I must admit, I had overimbibed that night. No, not on festive beverages: on helium. I loved nothing better than to grab a balloon, suck its contents deeply into my lungs, and then, in a ridiculous Munchkin voice, say something rapidly, like:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. . . .”
You get the idea. We were young, we were nerds, and we were up to no good.
Well, my beloved, his ex-college roommate and some other guys had grabbed the jack o’lanterns that had been carved for the occasion. It was long after midnight. They didn’t think the business establishment would mind if they took a few souvenirs.
I am relieved to report that they DID think to remove the candles. What they did next was inexplicable, unless you know guys: they cut a hole in the bottom of each jack o’lantern, and wore them out of the place.
Pumpkinheads, walking tall.
In perfect late-night logic, we then proceeded in a caravan of cars to the quiet home of another one of their ex-roommates. He had not joined us for the revelry, because, unlike us, he and his dear wife were serious persons, and in medical school. So they’d skipped the party.
Their relative maturity drew the ire of the Pumpkinheads.
While we embarrassed wives and girlfriends slumped in the cars, holding our heads in our hands, the Pumpkinheads staggered boldly up to the door, hung on the bell, knocked loudly, and shouted “Trick or Treat!” and other things that only sound funny when it’s 2 in the morning and you’re up to no good.
The popular movie of the day, which dates me, but it was a good movie, was “The Elephant Man.” My beloved staggered about on the porch, quoting the movie’s key line, “I am not an animal. I’m a human being!” while the other Pumpkinheads howled similar epithets.
A light snapped on at the back of the house. Then the porch lights. Then the door burst open. There was our med school friend in his T-shirt and jockey shorts. (Yes, I was peeking.)
We forgot he was a redhead, and gets mad easily.
Thinking they were rowdy vandals, terrorists or psych ward escapees, he PUNCHED the nearest Pumpkinhead, who flipped backwards over the iron porch railing onto his hands and knees on the lawn below, continuing to mutter, “I am not an animal. I’m a human being!”
His pumpkinhead split in two. At that instant, the med student realized who he had just punched – my beloved -- his close friend.
Did he come down off the porch, throw his arm around him, and apologize for the mighty blow which would have surely broken his nose, if not for the two-inch pumpkin shield in front of it?
Did he laugh appreciatively and remark that he should have known who Jack O’Lantern and his friends really were, enjoying the practical joke in the spirit of fun?
Noooooo.
I think he and his wife, also in med school, were tremendously annoyed because they had an enormous test the next day. So his heartfelt message to them was something like this:
“*&%*#$%&@!(%&^Y#(%^@O)FJ%&@^%!!!!”
Like, “You guys are out of your . . . gourds!”
That’s the thing about Halloween, and real life, too. You never know who it REALLY is behind that mask. And that’s bad, both ways.
Best to make sure people know who you are before you ring their doorbell at 2 a.m.
And best to hold your punches ‘til you find out for sure whether it’s a monster or a friend under there . . . before you turn their brains into . . . well . . . squash.
---------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: Please check in regularly to my new prayer blog, www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com Please send any prayer needs that you have, and updates and praise reports, too!
(H)e hath no form of comeliness;
and when we shall see him
there is no beauty that we should desire him.
He is despised and rejected of men. . . .
-- Isaiah 53:2b,3a
A bunch of us new college graduates had gathered at a local establishment which served festive beverages. We had pretty much taken over the place, which was all decked out for Halloween.
I must admit, I had overimbibed that night. No, not on festive beverages: on helium. I loved nothing better than to grab a balloon, suck its contents deeply into my lungs, and then, in a ridiculous Munchkin voice, say something rapidly, like:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. . . .”
You get the idea. We were young, we were nerds, and we were up to no good.
Well, my beloved, his ex-college roommate and some other guys had grabbed the jack o’lanterns that had been carved for the occasion. It was long after midnight. They didn’t think the business establishment would mind if they took a few souvenirs.
I am relieved to report that they DID think to remove the candles. What they did next was inexplicable, unless you know guys: they cut a hole in the bottom of each jack o’lantern, and wore them out of the place.
Pumpkinheads, walking tall.
In perfect late-night logic, we then proceeded in a caravan of cars to the quiet home of another one of their ex-roommates. He had not joined us for the revelry, because, unlike us, he and his dear wife were serious persons, and in medical school. So they’d skipped the party.
Their relative maturity drew the ire of the Pumpkinheads.
While we embarrassed wives and girlfriends slumped in the cars, holding our heads in our hands, the Pumpkinheads staggered boldly up to the door, hung on the bell, knocked loudly, and shouted “Trick or Treat!” and other things that only sound funny when it’s 2 in the morning and you’re up to no good.
The popular movie of the day, which dates me, but it was a good movie, was “The Elephant Man.” My beloved staggered about on the porch, quoting the movie’s key line, “I am not an animal. I’m a human being!” while the other Pumpkinheads howled similar epithets.
A light snapped on at the back of the house. Then the porch lights. Then the door burst open. There was our med school friend in his T-shirt and jockey shorts. (Yes, I was peeking.)
We forgot he was a redhead, and gets mad easily.
Thinking they were rowdy vandals, terrorists or psych ward escapees, he PUNCHED the nearest Pumpkinhead, who flipped backwards over the iron porch railing onto his hands and knees on the lawn below, continuing to mutter, “I am not an animal. I’m a human being!”
His pumpkinhead split in two. At that instant, the med student realized who he had just punched – my beloved -- his close friend.
Did he come down off the porch, throw his arm around him, and apologize for the mighty blow which would have surely broken his nose, if not for the two-inch pumpkin shield in front of it?
Did he laugh appreciatively and remark that he should have known who Jack O’Lantern and his friends really were, enjoying the practical joke in the spirit of fun?
Noooooo.
I think he and his wife, also in med school, were tremendously annoyed because they had an enormous test the next day. So his heartfelt message to them was something like this:
“*&%*#$%&@!(%&^Y#(%^@O)FJ%&@^%!!!!”
Like, “You guys are out of your . . . gourds!”
That’s the thing about Halloween, and real life, too. You never know who it REALLY is behind that mask. And that’s bad, both ways.
Best to make sure people know who you are before you ring their doorbell at 2 a.m.
And best to hold your punches ‘til you find out for sure whether it’s a monster or a friend under there . . . before you turn their brains into . . . well . . . squash.
---------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: Please check in regularly to my new prayer blog, www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com Please send any prayer needs that you have, and updates and praise reports, too!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
DRIVER'S LICENSE PRIVACY
This is upsetting but I thought I should pass it along. It seems that they’ve posted everybody’s driver's license on the Internet. I just searched for mine and there it was . . . picture and all!!
Thanks, Homeland Security! Where are our rights? I definitely removed mine. I suggest you do the same.Go to the web site and check it out. Just enter your name, city and state to see if yours is on file. After your license comes on the screen, click the box marked "Please Remove.” This will remove it from publicviewing, but not from law enforcement.http://www.license.shorturl.com/
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PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates, and praise reports that come my way. See www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com Please keep sending your prayer needs and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
This is upsetting but I thought I should pass it along. It seems that they’ve posted everybody’s driver's license on the Internet. I just searched for mine and there it was . . . picture and all!!
Thanks, Homeland Security! Where are our rights? I definitely removed mine. I suggest you do the same.Go to the web site and check it out. Just enter your name, city and state to see if yours is on file. After your license comes on the screen, click the box marked "Please Remove.” This will remove it from publicviewing, but not from law enforcement.http://www.license.shorturl.com/
------------------------------------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates, and praise reports that come my way. See www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com Please keep sending your prayer needs and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
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DAILYSUSAN will resume on Sunday, Oct. 30.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Our 5-year-old slumped back on our heavy iron kitchen barstool while savoring her pb&j, and got her right arm stuck between the slats. She panicked, and pulled left, then right, and found herself even more stuck, so she wailed for me.
By the time I got there, Maddy had changed positions so the angle was off kilter, and my attempts to free her by pulling on her arm or pushing it from behind yielded yelps of fear and pain.
That’s when the practical mind of the 5-year-old surfaced. Through her tears, Maddy cried, “I’ll just have to walk around all day with this on my back.”
We couldn’t have that! It weighs as much as she does!
Luckily, a pull upward freed the arm . . . and her fears of spending the rest of her life as a hunchback were laid to rest.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
LITTLE SPONGES, LITTLE MIRRORS
I’m not the only mom who has heard her own occasional verbal slips echo back from the innocent lips of a little one. Oh, those pitchers and their big ears. A friend wrote:
“When Scott was just 2, I was strapping him into his child-seat in the back seat of my car. My mom was waiting patiently outside the car, ready to open the passenger door as soon as I had Scott strapped in safely. Scott and I were going to lunch with Grandma, and we were all pumped.
“I could not get the seatbelt into the lock, because I could not see it around the carseat. So, I was reaching, groping blindly, and struggling, and making frustrated grunting sounds as I struggled right in front of -- and over -- quiet, patient Scott.
“Mom said from outside, ‘What's the matter?’ And I muttered as I groped over the carseat, ‘I just can't seem to get the seatbelt fastened, Mom.’
“At that, Scott slapped his hand down firmly on the padded seat arm in front of him, and said with great feeling:
“’DIMMIT!’
“I practically hit my head on the inside ceiling -- then I backed out gingerly, looked at my mom, and she said, ‘Where did he get THAT?’
“Then we both turned away from Scott and laughed as quietly as possible.”
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PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates on answered prayer, and praise reports that come my way. Read them on www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com, and one day soon they’ll be available directly from the www.DailySusan.com website. Please keep sending your prayer needs to me and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
I’m not the only mom who has heard her own occasional verbal slips echo back from the innocent lips of a little one. Oh, those pitchers and their big ears. A friend wrote:
“When Scott was just 2, I was strapping him into his child-seat in the back seat of my car. My mom was waiting patiently outside the car, ready to open the passenger door as soon as I had Scott strapped in safely. Scott and I were going to lunch with Grandma, and we were all pumped.
“I could not get the seatbelt into the lock, because I could not see it around the carseat. So, I was reaching, groping blindly, and struggling, and making frustrated grunting sounds as I struggled right in front of -- and over -- quiet, patient Scott.
“Mom said from outside, ‘What's the matter?’ And I muttered as I groped over the carseat, ‘I just can't seem to get the seatbelt fastened, Mom.’
“At that, Scott slapped his hand down firmly on the padded seat arm in front of him, and said with great feeling:
“’DIMMIT!’
“I practically hit my head on the inside ceiling -- then I backed out gingerly, looked at my mom, and she said, ‘Where did he get THAT?’
“Then we both turned away from Scott and laughed as quietly as possible.”
------------------------------------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates on answered prayer, and praise reports that come my way. Read them on www.LookingUpPrayerLine.blogspot.com, and one day soon they’ll be available directly from the www.DailySusan.com website. Please keep sending your prayer needs to me and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
Monday, October 24, 2005
SOUND IT OUT, BUT NOT THAT FAR OUT
Becoming a reader is Job One for kindergartner Maddy. So when I read stories to her every night, I try to get her to read some of the words and sound out the ones that are unfamiliar.
Now, I know little kids know more words than they can read. But things went quite a bit too far last night when she sounded out the word “she” and I asked her what OTHER word was within that same word.
Of course, I was shooting for “he.” But she looked at the word, knew I always harp on sounding words out, thought the word I had in mind must have the “sh” sound in it, and sounded out:
“Sh . . . sh . . . SHI***?!?!?!”
Ohhhh, that DARN day care, where they pick up words like that. . . .
Sh . . . sh . . . SURE they do.
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PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates, and praise reports that come my way. They’re on the Looking Up Prayer Line blog over at the right on my website, www.DailySusan.com Please keep sending your prayer needs and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
Becoming a reader is Job One for kindergartner Maddy. So when I read stories to her every night, I try to get her to read some of the words and sound out the ones that are unfamiliar.
Now, I know little kids know more words than they can read. But things went quite a bit too far last night when she sounded out the word “she” and I asked her what OTHER word was within that same word.
Of course, I was shooting for “he.” But she looked at the word, knew I always harp on sounding words out, thought the word I had in mind must have the “sh” sound in it, and sounded out:
“Sh . . . sh . . . SHI***?!?!?!”
Ohhhh, that DARN day care, where they pick up words like that. . . .
Sh . . . sh . . . SURE they do.
------------------------------------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: I’ve dedicated a new blog just for prayer requests, updates, and praise reports that come my way. They’re on the Looking Up Prayer Line blog over at the right on my website, www.DailySusan.com Please keep sending your prayer needs and I’ll post them at least once a day on the site.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
MAKING CONCESSIONS
And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily,
as to the Lord, and not unto men. . . .
-- Colossians 3:23
There I was, down on my hands and knees on a cold, rainy Saturday afternoon, scrubbing a really grungy concrete floor with disinfectant so strong it curled my nostril hair.
Me? A college graduate who once wore elbow gloves as a debutante?
Well, it might have been a lowly job – but it had the highest purpose.
After a long softball season, I was shutting down the concession stand in our city park. The tiny building, run by parents to make money to support sports teams, became my home away from home this fall -- spider webs, concrete block walls, bare overhead lightbulb and all.
I had been outfumbled by the other softball moms into running it. They were younger, nimbler, and met behind my back to elect me by acclamation . . . the finks.
I hated the assignment. Volunteering, to me, is white-collar, no-brainer tasks. Fun! Easy! Clean!
This job, though, was hard work. Ewww!!!
So I found myself pushing a heavy, overloaded dolly of supplies through a warehouse store, mushing like Nanook in the Iditarod.
I washed and lined shelves, stocked and priced items, fumbled around with keys to four locks, supervised volunteers, counted cash, balanced books, iced countless coolers, and learned how to load heavy “udders” of cheese into the nachos machine, run two persnickety microwaves, and several ancient crockpots.
My coffee tasted bad. My trick wrist ached. I failed to master the circa 1957 can opener.
It grossed me out to change the flypaper hanging from the ceiling. Worse, I had to fix Frito Pies – blobs of canned chili and cheddar cheese dumped into a sack of Fritos – right underneath those flypaper strips. Ewwwww!!!
I got black knees from kneeling on the filthy floor, and broke three nails and our cooler handle.
Why do I whine about all this?
Because I thought I would hate the job.
But I loved it!
Isn’t that always the way it is? Taking on a tough job that nobody else wants to do can be the best thing for you.
These are the jobs that serve people’s needs . . . and give you a good, strong dose of reality for just how cushy your life really is.
I mean, some people work that hard all their lives. I only had to make it through softball season.
It was a lot of fun, too, with lots of camaraderie. We were playing a pretty good team one night, and one of their fans ordered a chocolate sundae. We exchanged good wishes for the game, but as I was spraying on the Redi-Whip, I said, “This here’s WHUPPING cream!!!!!” She cracked up.
Everybody pitched in, and that was inspiring. Dear friends helped staff the stand, “just because.” Dads made sloppy joes, wings and super-secret chili. One donated a ton of free hot dogs, and another got us day-old buns to go with.
We made almost $1,300 for the softball team, and that was the best of all.
Or maybe it was what happened when I was scrubbing that filthy floor at season’s end on that rainy afternoon. Buckets of black water had gone down the drain. Dead bugs and petrified gum spots had been dealt with. My joints ached. But I ran outside to throw something away . . .
. . . and was treated to a gorgeous, full-size rainbow in the purple sky above blazing red and orange trees.
I almost dropped to my knees in awe, which would’ve been fine, since they were already black from scrubbing.
I knew what this was: heavenly payola for doing a thankless job.
It was God’s way of making concessions – a little treat to remind me that He’s with me in my glory moments on the mountaintops of life, but also while I’m making Frito pies under loaded flypaper and scrubbing a dirty floor.
Which, by the way, looks fabulous. Hmm. Wonder if they’ll ask me to run the stand again next year?
AAAIIIEEE!!! I’ll have to tell ‘em – I may be your servant, but I’m NACHO slave!
----------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: Please check my website, www.DailySusan.com, and see my new blog, Looking Up Prayer Line, over at the right. I will post prayer requests on there from now on, at least once a day. Please send any prayer needs that you have, and updates and praise reports, too!
And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily,
as to the Lord, and not unto men. . . .
-- Colossians 3:23
There I was, down on my hands and knees on a cold, rainy Saturday afternoon, scrubbing a really grungy concrete floor with disinfectant so strong it curled my nostril hair.
Me? A college graduate who once wore elbow gloves as a debutante?
Well, it might have been a lowly job – but it had the highest purpose.
After a long softball season, I was shutting down the concession stand in our city park. The tiny building, run by parents to make money to support sports teams, became my home away from home this fall -- spider webs, concrete block walls, bare overhead lightbulb and all.
I had been outfumbled by the other softball moms into running it. They were younger, nimbler, and met behind my back to elect me by acclamation . . . the finks.
I hated the assignment. Volunteering, to me, is white-collar, no-brainer tasks. Fun! Easy! Clean!
This job, though, was hard work. Ewww!!!
So I found myself pushing a heavy, overloaded dolly of supplies through a warehouse store, mushing like Nanook in the Iditarod.
I washed and lined shelves, stocked and priced items, fumbled around with keys to four locks, supervised volunteers, counted cash, balanced books, iced countless coolers, and learned how to load heavy “udders” of cheese into the nachos machine, run two persnickety microwaves, and several ancient crockpots.
My coffee tasted bad. My trick wrist ached. I failed to master the circa 1957 can opener.
It grossed me out to change the flypaper hanging from the ceiling. Worse, I had to fix Frito Pies – blobs of canned chili and cheddar cheese dumped into a sack of Fritos – right underneath those flypaper strips. Ewwwww!!!
I got black knees from kneeling on the filthy floor, and broke three nails and our cooler handle.
Why do I whine about all this?
Because I thought I would hate the job.
But I loved it!
Isn’t that always the way it is? Taking on a tough job that nobody else wants to do can be the best thing for you.
These are the jobs that serve people’s needs . . . and give you a good, strong dose of reality for just how cushy your life really is.
I mean, some people work that hard all their lives. I only had to make it through softball season.
It was a lot of fun, too, with lots of camaraderie. We were playing a pretty good team one night, and one of their fans ordered a chocolate sundae. We exchanged good wishes for the game, but as I was spraying on the Redi-Whip, I said, “This here’s WHUPPING cream!!!!!” She cracked up.
Everybody pitched in, and that was inspiring. Dear friends helped staff the stand, “just because.” Dads made sloppy joes, wings and super-secret chili. One donated a ton of free hot dogs, and another got us day-old buns to go with.
We made almost $1,300 for the softball team, and that was the best of all.
Or maybe it was what happened when I was scrubbing that filthy floor at season’s end on that rainy afternoon. Buckets of black water had gone down the drain. Dead bugs and petrified gum spots had been dealt with. My joints ached. But I ran outside to throw something away . . .
. . . and was treated to a gorgeous, full-size rainbow in the purple sky above blazing red and orange trees.
I almost dropped to my knees in awe, which would’ve been fine, since they were already black from scrubbing.
I knew what this was: heavenly payola for doing a thankless job.
It was God’s way of making concessions – a little treat to remind me that He’s with me in my glory moments on the mountaintops of life, but also while I’m making Frito pies under loaded flypaper and scrubbing a dirty floor.
Which, by the way, looks fabulous. Hmm. Wonder if they’ll ask me to run the stand again next year?
AAAIIIEEE!!! I’ll have to tell ‘em – I may be your servant, but I’m NACHO slave!
----------------------
PRAYER REQUESTS: Please check my website, www.DailySusan.com, and see my new blog, Looking Up Prayer Line, over at the right. I will post prayer requests on there from now on, at least once a day. Please send any prayer needs that you have, and updates and praise reports, too!
Saturday, October 22, 2005
REALITIES OF SCIENCE EDUCATION
OK, so I thought I was providing an educational treat by driving across the autumnal prairie to Aurora, Neb., to take Maddy and her kindergarten friend to the Edgerton Explorit Science Center.
It’s a tribute to Aurora native and famous scientist Harold E. “Doc” Edgerton. He was an electrical engineer and photographer who invented the strobe light, high-speed photography, and underwater lighting using sonar technology in collaboration with Jacques Cousteau, among many other accomplishments. Edgerton was a legendary professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, but he never forgot his Nebraska roots.
The girls moved among the more than 30 exhibits for two hours, fascinated and chattering. There were activities with light, sound, motion, magnets, hydraulics and much, much more. The highlight was popping a balloon in front of a computer-driven strobe that yielded a photo on paper of the instant the balloon burst before their surprised faces.
After all that, we got back in the car for the two-hour drive home. I expected to hear conversation about all the scientific learning that had gone on.
Instead, they took out their souvenirs – rainbow play-dough.
“LET’S MAKE PUTTSIES!!!” they shouted. You know, warming up the plastic clay and pushing it together to imitate rude body sounds.
So much for science . . . humor trumps it.
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Prayer request: Rest and time to savor tender memories for my good friends Bobbie and Kathy, who lost their husband and father, respectively, this past week, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Dick was a wonderful man. Oh, Lord, use this trial to draw his loved ones ever closer to You. (Titus 3:4-6)
OK, so I thought I was providing an educational treat by driving across the autumnal prairie to Aurora, Neb., to take Maddy and her kindergarten friend to the Edgerton Explorit Science Center.
It’s a tribute to Aurora native and famous scientist Harold E. “Doc” Edgerton. He was an electrical engineer and photographer who invented the strobe light, high-speed photography, and underwater lighting using sonar technology in collaboration with Jacques Cousteau, among many other accomplishments. Edgerton was a legendary professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, but he never forgot his Nebraska roots.
The girls moved among the more than 30 exhibits for two hours, fascinated and chattering. There were activities with light, sound, motion, magnets, hydraulics and much, much more. The highlight was popping a balloon in front of a computer-driven strobe that yielded a photo on paper of the instant the balloon burst before their surprised faces.
After all that, we got back in the car for the two-hour drive home. I expected to hear conversation about all the scientific learning that had gone on.
Instead, they took out their souvenirs – rainbow play-dough.
“LET’S MAKE PUTTSIES!!!” they shouted. You know, warming up the plastic clay and pushing it together to imitate rude body sounds.
So much for science . . . humor trumps it.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Rest and time to savor tender memories for my good friends Bobbie and Kathy, who lost their husband and father, respectively, this past week, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Dick was a wonderful man. Oh, Lord, use this trial to draw his loved ones ever closer to You. (Titus 3:4-6)
Friday, October 21, 2005
MONA, IN BETWEEN BLINKS
(Today's DailySusan is an animation of the Mona Lisa making funny faces)
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Prayer request: We are grateful that the Iraqi people had a chance to vote to become a democracy, Father. Growing into a more just and equitable society is bound to be good for those citizens in everything from their economy to their health. It is also likely to open up their culture to allow teaching about You, for the first time. We know it is Your will and Your plan to break the censorship and inspire the free flow of ideas in that country. We look forward to the day when the Iraqis can know the source of our peace, Jehovah-Shalom. (Judges 6:24)
(Today's DailySusan is an animation of the Mona Lisa making funny faces)
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Prayer request: We are grateful that the Iraqi people had a chance to vote to become a democracy, Father. Growing into a more just and equitable society is bound to be good for those citizens in everything from their economy to their health. It is also likely to open up their culture to allow teaching about You, for the first time. We know it is Your will and Your plan to break the censorship and inspire the free flow of ideas in that country. We look forward to the day when the Iraqis can know the source of our peace, Jehovah-Shalom. (Judges 6:24)
Thursday, October 20, 2005
TRAIN OF THOUGHT
Took the day off yesterday and went with a neighbor and some kids, who were off school, to the Union Pacific Railroad Museum in beautiful downtown Council Bluffs, Iowa. It’s in a fixed-up Carnegie library in the Beaux Arts style, a truly beautiful setting for a very well-done museum. A little history never hurts, and the kids got to cavort at Chuck E. Cheese’s afterwards, so they were on their best behavior and didn’t break a thing.
My neighbor is 70-something, and her dad worked for the U.P. for 45 years. She played the drum and her brother played the bugle in the company’s old Drum and Bugle Corps for parades and festivities. She remembers sitting on the lap of U.P. President William Jeffers once in the 1930s, and having him tell her that her freckles were “angel’s kisses.” That’s sweet, since Jeffers was the rough, tough railroad president who helped us win World War II with some rough, tough maneuvers.
By far the favorite exhibit was a locomotive cab simulator. The kids could sit in the engineer’s seat and pull all kinds of levers and twist knobs, while realistic video scenery of North Platte, Neb., and Feather River, Calif., flowed by on all sides of you. It was weird, with no steering wheel. You’d rush into a tunnel and it’d be all dark. You’d follow a chuckling stream in the mountains or enjoy endless prairie vistas, and then suddenly: “WOOO! WOOOOOO!!!!” here’d come another train, passing you.
The kids got to see how massive train wheels are, and looked at maps, saw a demonstration of track replacement, learned what train signals mean, saw amazing Indian bead work, and a stuffed buffalo, and . . . well, it was wonderful.
The engine of learning got fully stoked. We’re all railroad buffs now. Full steam ahead!
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Prayer request: My neighbor Norma, a widow of about a year, needs to clean out her basement, but the job seems overwhelming. Lord, help balance her desire to sort through decades of possessions and give things away with her need for rest and recreation. She mustn’t overdo, and she should have the time and energy to really savor the process. Father, use this season of organization to remind her of all the blessings You’ve bestowed on her over the years. (Psalm 118:15)
Took the day off yesterday and went with a neighbor and some kids, who were off school, to the Union Pacific Railroad Museum in beautiful downtown Council Bluffs, Iowa. It’s in a fixed-up Carnegie library in the Beaux Arts style, a truly beautiful setting for a very well-done museum. A little history never hurts, and the kids got to cavort at Chuck E. Cheese’s afterwards, so they were on their best behavior and didn’t break a thing.
My neighbor is 70-something, and her dad worked for the U.P. for 45 years. She played the drum and her brother played the bugle in the company’s old Drum and Bugle Corps for parades and festivities. She remembers sitting on the lap of U.P. President William Jeffers once in the 1930s, and having him tell her that her freckles were “angel’s kisses.” That’s sweet, since Jeffers was the rough, tough railroad president who helped us win World War II with some rough, tough maneuvers.
By far the favorite exhibit was a locomotive cab simulator. The kids could sit in the engineer’s seat and pull all kinds of levers and twist knobs, while realistic video scenery of North Platte, Neb., and Feather River, Calif., flowed by on all sides of you. It was weird, with no steering wheel. You’d rush into a tunnel and it’d be all dark. You’d follow a chuckling stream in the mountains or enjoy endless prairie vistas, and then suddenly: “WOOO! WOOOOOO!!!!” here’d come another train, passing you.
The kids got to see how massive train wheels are, and looked at maps, saw a demonstration of track replacement, learned what train signals mean, saw amazing Indian bead work, and a stuffed buffalo, and . . . well, it was wonderful.
The engine of learning got fully stoked. We’re all railroad buffs now. Full steam ahead!
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: My neighbor Norma, a widow of about a year, needs to clean out her basement, but the job seems overwhelming. Lord, help balance her desire to sort through decades of possessions and give things away with her need for rest and recreation. She mustn’t overdo, and she should have the time and energy to really savor the process. Father, use this season of organization to remind her of all the blessings You’ve bestowed on her over the years. (Psalm 118:15)
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
CARTOONS FOR THE SLIGHTLY TWISTED
(Today's DailySusan was several Internet cartoons)
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Health and happiness to someone very special in my life who celebrates a birthday today. May her prayers for a united family come true, and may she grow in Godliness, peace and all the other virtues in the coming year. (Isaiah 32:17)
(Today's DailySusan was several Internet cartoons)
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Health and happiness to someone very special in my life who celebrates a birthday today. May her prayers for a united family come true, and may she grow in Godliness, peace and all the other virtues in the coming year. (Isaiah 32:17)
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
SURPRISE
Today’s DailySusan is an eye-opener! Enjoy!
----------------
Prayer request: We lift up Helen for healing, rest and clarity. Her husband of 50-some years died six weeks ago, and her head is literally spinning after months of dealing with extreme stress. She’s going in for an MRI to diagnose the cause of the dizziness, but she dearly wants to go to Texas in about six weeks to attend her grandson’s wedding. Lord, hide Helen in Your healing wings, and grant her favor and equilibrium so that she can do all that she wants to do. (Psalm 32:7)
Today’s DailySusan is an eye-opener! Enjoy!
----------------
Prayer request: We lift up Helen for healing, rest and clarity. Her husband of 50-some years died six weeks ago, and her head is literally spinning after months of dealing with extreme stress. She’s going in for an MRI to diagnose the cause of the dizziness, but she dearly wants to go to Texas in about six weeks to attend her grandson’s wedding. Lord, hide Helen in Your healing wings, and grant her favor and equilibrium so that she can do all that she wants to do. (Psalm 32:7)
Monday, October 17, 2005
FRANKENSOFTBALL
Anyone would say that my beloved is the more serious, dignified and responsible one of our union. I have been known to do some pretty silly things, but he is a stalwart captain of industry with tremendous self-control and admirably good table manners.
So you know that CRAZY MAN in an ENORMOUS Afro wig, whirling a softball bat and ball around in the air, and running along the main drag of our town as the high school softball team’s bus came by on their way to the State tournament?
That would be him.
Nobody could believe their eyes. I’m sure it’s why they won. Sometimes, when you’re in shock, your muscle memory takes over and you can do even better than when you’re in control of your faculties.
Which, as the ultimate softball fan, he obviously was not. But as it turned out, that was a good thing.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Thank You, Father, that no one was killed in an accident in another city early Sunday in which a 20-year-old, Sarah, was driving drunk and slammed her car into a garage of a house. It flipped onto the homeowners’ car and caused an explosion and fire. Miraculously, Sarah got out and the homeowners found her in the yard. She had third-degree burns on 40% of her body. The house was burned to the ground in front of this couple’s eyes, and now Sarah faces skin grafts starting today and a long recovery process. Sarah had just started going to a church youth group this month, a huge step after her father divorced her mom three years ago, wounding the three kids -- he remarried just two weeks ago. Prayers are needed for healing and protection from infection, reconciliation of hearts to God and to each other, for physical and emotional strength for Sarah's mom and aunt, and for the couple who lost their home and belongings. Moreover, Lord, we pray for the spirits of judgment and accusation to be quieted, and for compassion, peace that passes understanding, and patience to wait on God, as He works through each heart. May this crisis bring them all to relationship with You as they realize how much they need You. (Job 5:19)
Anyone would say that my beloved is the more serious, dignified and responsible one of our union. I have been known to do some pretty silly things, but he is a stalwart captain of industry with tremendous self-control and admirably good table manners.
So you know that CRAZY MAN in an ENORMOUS Afro wig, whirling a softball bat and ball around in the air, and running along the main drag of our town as the high school softball team’s bus came by on their way to the State tournament?
That would be him.
Nobody could believe their eyes. I’m sure it’s why they won. Sometimes, when you’re in shock, your muscle memory takes over and you can do even better than when you’re in control of your faculties.
Which, as the ultimate softball fan, he obviously was not. But as it turned out, that was a good thing.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Thank You, Father, that no one was killed in an accident in another city early Sunday in which a 20-year-old, Sarah, was driving drunk and slammed her car into a garage of a house. It flipped onto the homeowners’ car and caused an explosion and fire. Miraculously, Sarah got out and the homeowners found her in the yard. She had third-degree burns on 40% of her body. The house was burned to the ground in front of this couple’s eyes, and now Sarah faces skin grafts starting today and a long recovery process. Sarah had just started going to a church youth group this month, a huge step after her father divorced her mom three years ago, wounding the three kids -- he remarried just two weeks ago. Prayers are needed for healing and protection from infection, reconciliation of hearts to God and to each other, for physical and emotional strength for Sarah's mom and aunt, and for the couple who lost their home and belongings. Moreover, Lord, we pray for the spirits of judgment and accusation to be quieted, and for compassion, peace that passes understanding, and patience to wait on God, as He works through each heart. May this crisis bring them all to relationship with You as they realize how much they need You. (Job 5:19)
Sunday, October 16, 2005
NO CRYING IN SOFTBALL
To every thing there is a season,
and a time for every purpose under the heaven.
-- Ecclesiastes 3:1
We were warned about softball. Our friends told us about a dog-pilin’, hair-pullin’ fistfight after a game that spilled over into the parking lot. Not players – parents! Our friends backed away, pretending to throw punches. They didn’t want to fight, but didn’t want their fellow parents to see them not fighting.
Whoa! What were we getting ourselves into?
When our daughter was 13, her team made it to Nationals. They missed a game because of a scheduling snafu that was not their fault. The forfeit knocked them out of the tournament. What a way to end their season! The girls huddled outside the tournament office, a few of them crying.
A big, burly woman came along. Frowning, she lectured, “There’s no crying in softball!”
One of our mothers said testily, “You don’t understand the situation. They have good reason to cry.”
The stranger put her hairy-knuckled hands on our mother’s shoulders, and SHOVED her to the ground.
Yikes! What HAD we gotten ourselves into?
Just a wonderful slice of life rich with lessons, and sweet with friendship, courage, sacrifice and character. The other night, our softball experience culminated in the second straight state championship for Eden’s high-school team, the Elkhorn Antlers.
The girls were jumping and whooping, beaming so brightly we didn’t need the balllfield lights. I looked around at the parents, and saw plenty of glittering tears.
There’s no crying in softball, huh?
We’ve watched more than 500 games over the years, coming to love Eden’s teammates and their families, sharing their joys and sorrows in and out of softball. Though Eden hopes to play in college, we’ll never have this close community again. It’s precious, and addictive. A whole bunch of former players and their parents came to the championship game, to relive it.
Afterwards, we took over a popular restaurant. We ate and drank, watched reruns of key plays on a laptop, and jumped on chairs singing and shouting, including my silly signature cheer:
“ELKHORN NUMBER ONE!
“CAN’T BE NUMBER TWO!
“COME ON, EVERYBODY,
“DO THE ELKHORN BOOG-A-LOO!
“AH-BOOG-A-LOOOOOO!!!!!!”There were quiet moments celebrating a different kind of victory, too. The championship game was against Beatrice, a perpetual softball power. Their pitcher is Tara Oltman, an All-State ace. We beat them twice to take the title this year, just like last year. Last year, Eden didn’t know their pitcher when she boomed the winning hit to the fence. This year, Tara’s a dear friend, because the two of them spent the summer together on a traveling team.
After the game, they hugged and cried. Eden surprised Tara with a DVD she made commemorating their summer season. Tara gave Eden a picture of the two of them after their last game, with their arms around each other, smiling through their tears. It was framed in a silver ball glove. That’s the real victory: opponents, yet friends. What a life lesson.
Next morning, I started to wash Eden’s uniform for the last time. The outfielder’s grass stains and ballfield dirt from sliding would come out. But the good things gained from softball are in Eden’s heart forever:
How discipline, training and practice pay off, bigtime.
How to overcome adversity, be aggressive, play fair, accept defeat with grace, and be a loyal teammate.
How to use your sense of humor as a leadership tool.
Lessons well learned. And now it’s time to move on. The season’s over, in more ways than one.
So I scrubbed those uniform stains for the last time, musing and smiling over all the memories. Spittin’ seeds! Rhubarbs over bad calls! The look on a coach’s face when a girl who was slumping follows his advice and gets the game-winning RBI at State. . . .
My heart flooded with emotion. That happened to Eden.
That’s God: using lowly things like softball so that, if you let Him coach you, you can get game . . . and make big plays when it counts.
Tears filled my eyes and plopped down onto the fabric.
Anyone who says there’s no crying in softball: YERRRRR OUT!!!
-----------------------------------
Prayer request: We stand up against discouragement and division for a dear neighbor who is dealing with a mean boss and impossible demands on his time right now. His job woes are spilling over onto his marriage and family life, with insomnia and arguments making life pretty miserable. Father, we are grateful that his wife has asked for prayer for a swift resolution. Hear their cry! May his career take a positive new turn and may their home life improve drastically, for Your glory. (Psalm 10:17)
To every thing there is a season,
and a time for every purpose under the heaven.
-- Ecclesiastes 3:1
We were warned about softball. Our friends told us about a dog-pilin’, hair-pullin’ fistfight after a game that spilled over into the parking lot. Not players – parents! Our friends backed away, pretending to throw punches. They didn’t want to fight, but didn’t want their fellow parents to see them not fighting.
Whoa! What were we getting ourselves into?
When our daughter was 13, her team made it to Nationals. They missed a game because of a scheduling snafu that was not their fault. The forfeit knocked them out of the tournament. What a way to end their season! The girls huddled outside the tournament office, a few of them crying.
A big, burly woman came along. Frowning, she lectured, “There’s no crying in softball!”
One of our mothers said testily, “You don’t understand the situation. They have good reason to cry.”
The stranger put her hairy-knuckled hands on our mother’s shoulders, and SHOVED her to the ground.
Yikes! What HAD we gotten ourselves into?
Just a wonderful slice of life rich with lessons, and sweet with friendship, courage, sacrifice and character. The other night, our softball experience culminated in the second straight state championship for Eden’s high-school team, the Elkhorn Antlers.
The girls were jumping and whooping, beaming so brightly we didn’t need the balllfield lights. I looked around at the parents, and saw plenty of glittering tears.
There’s no crying in softball, huh?
We’ve watched more than 500 games over the years, coming to love Eden’s teammates and their families, sharing their joys and sorrows in and out of softball. Though Eden hopes to play in college, we’ll never have this close community again. It’s precious, and addictive. A whole bunch of former players and their parents came to the championship game, to relive it.
Afterwards, we took over a popular restaurant. We ate and drank, watched reruns of key plays on a laptop, and jumped on chairs singing and shouting, including my silly signature cheer:
“ELKHORN NUMBER ONE!
“CAN’T BE NUMBER TWO!
“COME ON, EVERYBODY,
“DO THE ELKHORN BOOG-A-LOO!
“AH-BOOG-A-LOOOOOO!!!!!!”There were quiet moments celebrating a different kind of victory, too. The championship game was against Beatrice, a perpetual softball power. Their pitcher is Tara Oltman, an All-State ace. We beat them twice to take the title this year, just like last year. Last year, Eden didn’t know their pitcher when she boomed the winning hit to the fence. This year, Tara’s a dear friend, because the two of them spent the summer together on a traveling team.
After the game, they hugged and cried. Eden surprised Tara with a DVD she made commemorating their summer season. Tara gave Eden a picture of the two of them after their last game, with their arms around each other, smiling through their tears. It was framed in a silver ball glove. That’s the real victory: opponents, yet friends. What a life lesson.
Next morning, I started to wash Eden’s uniform for the last time. The outfielder’s grass stains and ballfield dirt from sliding would come out. But the good things gained from softball are in Eden’s heart forever:
How discipline, training and practice pay off, bigtime.
How to overcome adversity, be aggressive, play fair, accept defeat with grace, and be a loyal teammate.
How to use your sense of humor as a leadership tool.
Lessons well learned. And now it’s time to move on. The season’s over, in more ways than one.
So I scrubbed those uniform stains for the last time, musing and smiling over all the memories. Spittin’ seeds! Rhubarbs over bad calls! The look on a coach’s face when a girl who was slumping follows his advice and gets the game-winning RBI at State. . . .
My heart flooded with emotion. That happened to Eden.
That’s God: using lowly things like softball so that, if you let Him coach you, you can get game . . . and make big plays when it counts.
Tears filled my eyes and plopped down onto the fabric.
Anyone who says there’s no crying in softball: YERRRRR OUT!!!
-----------------------------------
Prayer request: We stand up against discouragement and division for a dear neighbor who is dealing with a mean boss and impossible demands on his time right now. His job woes are spilling over onto his marriage and family life, with insomnia and arguments making life pretty miserable. Father, we are grateful that his wife has asked for prayer for a swift resolution. Hear their cry! May his career take a positive new turn and may their home life improve drastically, for Your glory. (Psalm 10:17)
Saturday, October 15, 2005
ROOTIN' TOOTIN'
We had a rootin’ tootin’ good time last night as our beloved Elkhorn Antlers won their second straight state softball champsionship. Our daughter Eden was so elated, they didn’t need the lights to illuminate the field. Here’s a totally silly video that’s rootin’ tootin’, too. Celebrate with us!
------------------------------------------------
Praise report: Praise and thanks for the wonderful experience at the state tournament: for Eden’s rocket-style hit in the championship game, for her terrific coaches, for the many relatives, friends and neighbors who came out to support her and the girls, and most of all, for the many lessons of love, relationship and diligence that You taught all of us through this good sport. (Psalm 48:1)
We had a rootin’ tootin’ good time last night as our beloved Elkhorn Antlers won their second straight state softball champsionship. Our daughter Eden was so elated, they didn’t need the lights to illuminate the field. Here’s a totally silly video that’s rootin’ tootin’, too. Celebrate with us!
------------------------------------------------
Praise report: Praise and thanks for the wonderful experience at the state tournament: for Eden’s rocket-style hit in the championship game, for her terrific coaches, for the many relatives, friends and neighbors who came out to support her and the girls, and most of all, for the many lessons of love, relationship and diligence that You taught all of us through this good sport. (Psalm 48:1)
Friday, October 14, 2005
ATTENTION!
Thursday, I admitted that I’m a control freak. Today, I also admit that I’m a scatterbrained, attention-deficit type person who has a heck of a time staying on task a lot of the time. So this joke struck me as funny:
Q. Why did the attention deficit disorder / hyperactivity person cross the road?
A. Let’s go ride our bicycles!
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Lord, I love watching You work in all facets of our lives. I know the earthquake in Pakistan and the hurricane in the Gulf are of far, far, far more significance, but I saw You make a move yesterday that bore profound spiritual meaning for our high-school softball team in the state softball tournament Thursday. To make a long story short, a player who did some not real sportsmanlike things, apparently on purpose, and hurt our team in the past, had the exact same things happen to her teammates at State by another team, purely by accident, and they lost their game because of it. We rejoiced that we had not retaliated against her, but had taken the high road, and then saw the fulfillment of the verse: “Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, sayeth the Lord.” – Hebrews 10:30. We rest in Your sovereignty, Father, and rejoice in how You always make things come out right. We pray for favor, a big hit for Eden, and a second straight state championship today, but bow to Your will and Your good pleasure, and trust that You and You alone have the big picture for what’s best. Play ball! (Hebrews 11:3)
Thursday, I admitted that I’m a control freak. Today, I also admit that I’m a scatterbrained, attention-deficit type person who has a heck of a time staying on task a lot of the time. So this joke struck me as funny:
Q. Why did the attention deficit disorder / hyperactivity person cross the road?
A. Let’s go ride our bicycles!
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Lord, I love watching You work in all facets of our lives. I know the earthquake in Pakistan and the hurricane in the Gulf are of far, far, far more significance, but I saw You make a move yesterday that bore profound spiritual meaning for our high-school softball team in the state softball tournament Thursday. To make a long story short, a player who did some not real sportsmanlike things, apparently on purpose, and hurt our team in the past, had the exact same things happen to her teammates at State by another team, purely by accident, and they lost their game because of it. We rejoiced that we had not retaliated against her, but had taken the high road, and then saw the fulfillment of the verse: “Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, sayeth the Lord.” – Hebrews 10:30. We rest in Your sovereignty, Father, and rejoice in how You always make things come out right. We pray for favor, a big hit for Eden, and a second straight state championship today, but bow to Your will and Your good pleasure, and trust that You and You alone have the big picture for what’s best. Play ball! (Hebrews 11:3)
Thursday, October 13, 2005
OUT OF CONTROL
I suffer from time to time from major bouts of Controllicus Freakicus, so this one struck me as funny:
“Knock-knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“A control freak; now YOU say, ‘Control freak who?’”
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Encouragement for Eden and her softball chums, who are playing in the State tournament today; may they glorify You with excellent play, Father . . . but on a much more serious note, one of my favorite spiritual mentors, Audrey, is hospitalized with a painful colon problem. She was my Bible Study Fellowship leader and did a wonderful job as a shepherd, exhibiting such kindness and thoughtfulness. Father, grant her relief from pain and a quick recovery, and guide all of us who love her to see ways that we can give her a touch of Your TLC in the coming weeks. Teach us all through her beautiful character, even in suffering, and help us to be more like her, since she is so much like You. (Romans 5:3,4)
I suffer from time to time from major bouts of Controllicus Freakicus, so this one struck me as funny:
“Knock-knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“A control freak; now YOU say, ‘Control freak who?’”
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Encouragement for Eden and her softball chums, who are playing in the State tournament today; may they glorify You with excellent play, Father . . . but on a much more serious note, one of my favorite spiritual mentors, Audrey, is hospitalized with a painful colon problem. She was my Bible Study Fellowship leader and did a wonderful job as a shepherd, exhibiting such kindness and thoughtfulness. Father, grant her relief from pain and a quick recovery, and guide all of us who love her to see ways that we can give her a touch of Your TLC in the coming weeks. Teach us all through her beautiful character, even in suffering, and help us to be more like her, since she is so much like You. (Romans 5:3,4)
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
THE LOUISIANA REPURCHASE
Got another silly email that reported that President Bush sold the State of Louisiana back to the French at more than double its original selling price of $11,250,000. Well, it’s an idea. It went on:
“This is a bold step forward for America,” said Bush. “And America will be stronger and better as a result. I stand here today in unity with French Prime Minister Jack Shiraq, who was so kind to accept my offer of Louisiana in exchange for 25 million dollars cash.”
The state, ravaged by Hurricane Katrina, will cost hundreds of billions of dollars to rebuild.
“Jack understands full well that this one’s a ‘fixer upper,’” said Bush. “He and the French people are quite prepared to pump out all that water, and make Louisiana a decent place to live again. And they’ve got a lot of work to do. But Jack’s assured me, if it’s not right, they’re going to fix it.”
The move has been met with incredulity from the already beleaguered residents of Louisiana. “Shuba-pie!” said New Orleans resident Willis Babineaux. “Frafer-perly yom kom drabby sham!”
However, President Bush’s decision has been widely lauded by Republicans. “This is an unexpected but brilliant move by the President,” said Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. “Instead of spending billions and billions, and billions of dollars rebuilding the state of Louisiana, we’ve just made 25 million dollars in pure profit.”
“This is indeed a smart move,” commented Fox News analyst Brit Hume. “Not only have we stopped the flooding in our own budget, we’ve made money on the deal. Plus, when the god-awful French are done fixing it up, we can easily invade and take it back again.
”The money gained from “The Louisiana Refund” is expected to be immediately pumped back into the rebuilding of Iraq.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Father, when terrible things happen to people, we pray that victims remember they can still trust in You nevertheless. Devout Christians who are dear friends of friends of mine were devastated Friday evening when their 25-year-old son was killed in a motorcycle accident in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. To make matters worse, nine years ago their other son died in a freak accident. He was riding on the hood of a friend’s car when somehow he lost his balance, fell and struck his head on the ground, killing him. So now the parents, Bill and Cathy, are alone. Lord Jesus, show Your goodness to their souls and soothe and reassure them that they will see their boys again in paradise. (Lamentations 3:25)
Got another silly email that reported that President Bush sold the State of Louisiana back to the French at more than double its original selling price of $11,250,000. Well, it’s an idea. It went on:
“This is a bold step forward for America,” said Bush. “And America will be stronger and better as a result. I stand here today in unity with French Prime Minister Jack Shiraq, who was so kind to accept my offer of Louisiana in exchange for 25 million dollars cash.”
The state, ravaged by Hurricane Katrina, will cost hundreds of billions of dollars to rebuild.
“Jack understands full well that this one’s a ‘fixer upper,’” said Bush. “He and the French people are quite prepared to pump out all that water, and make Louisiana a decent place to live again. And they’ve got a lot of work to do. But Jack’s assured me, if it’s not right, they’re going to fix it.”
The move has been met with incredulity from the already beleaguered residents of Louisiana. “Shuba-pie!” said New Orleans resident Willis Babineaux. “Frafer-perly yom kom drabby sham!”
However, President Bush’s decision has been widely lauded by Republicans. “This is an unexpected but brilliant move by the President,” said Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. “Instead of spending billions and billions, and billions of dollars rebuilding the state of Louisiana, we’ve just made 25 million dollars in pure profit.”
“This is indeed a smart move,” commented Fox News analyst Brit Hume. “Not only have we stopped the flooding in our own budget, we’ve made money on the deal. Plus, when the god-awful French are done fixing it up, we can easily invade and take it back again.
”The money gained from “The Louisiana Refund” is expected to be immediately pumped back into the rebuilding of Iraq.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Father, when terrible things happen to people, we pray that victims remember they can still trust in You nevertheless. Devout Christians who are dear friends of friends of mine were devastated Friday evening when their 25-year-old son was killed in a motorcycle accident in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. To make matters worse, nine years ago their other son died in a freak accident. He was riding on the hood of a friend’s car when somehow he lost his balance, fell and struck his head on the ground, killing him. So now the parents, Bill and Cathy, are alone. Lord Jesus, show Your goodness to their souls and soothe and reassure them that they will see their boys again in paradise. (Lamentations 3:25)
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
A LITTLE SLAPSTICK
Today's DailySusan is a music video showing various kinds of accidents.
-------------
Prayer request: Lord, we lift up all those who have been in accidents and pray for their rapid healing and restoration. Getting hurt is not funny at all, but we pray that they will look to you for deliverance and peace. (Psalm 3:8)
Today's DailySusan is a music video showing various kinds of accidents.
-------------
Prayer request: Lord, we lift up all those who have been in accidents and pray for their rapid healing and restoration. Getting hurt is not funny at all, but we pray that they will look to you for deliverance and peace. (Psalm 3:8)
Monday, October 10, 2005
COACH CHICKEN
Our daughter’s softball coach has a habit on fly balls. If it looks like the outfielder is going to catch it, he yells rapidly to his base runner, “Back! Back! Back!”
The other day, I couldn’t help myself. “He sounds like a giant, estrogen-deprived chicken.”
Well, he DID.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Lord, an acquaintance was sharing his bitterness about a former employer, who he says “ruined people’s lives” with heavy-handed management and a cold, hard approach to the bottom line. This friend has been out of that man’s employment for 20 years, but is still angry at him. Father, help him to let it go and be glad he’s not under the guy’s thumb. Help him to see the price that man has paid for his negative actions, so that he’ll remember that only Your ways bring joy and peace. (Psalm 37:7)
Our daughter’s softball coach has a habit on fly balls. If it looks like the outfielder is going to catch it, he yells rapidly to his base runner, “Back! Back! Back!”
The other day, I couldn’t help myself. “He sounds like a giant, estrogen-deprived chicken.”
Well, he DID.
------------------------------------------------
Prayer request: Lord, an acquaintance was sharing his bitterness about a former employer, who he says “ruined people’s lives” with heavy-handed management and a cold, hard approach to the bottom line. This friend has been out of that man’s employment for 20 years, but is still angry at him. Father, help him to let it go and be glad he’s not under the guy’s thumb. Help him to see the price that man has paid for his negative actions, so that he’ll remember that only Your ways bring joy and peace. (Psalm 37:7)
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