MySpace Prom Queen.
May 27, 2006
Alert! Alert! A new sin has been unleashed on the unsuspecting public! Its victims are usually those who have been rendered susceptible by an existing ‘Ego-metastasizory’ or possibly in conjunction with ‘Pridus Virucosus.’ This new debauchery has been dubbed — “Blog Envy!” (*gasp!*)
In Romans 1, Paul lists among his renown “twenty-one sins of the condemned” – inventors of evil. I would like to think that I am not the inventor in this case. Rather just a credulous fellow-blogger like yourself who has fallen into this snare, set by an unscrupulous enemy. “But what is blog envy?” you ask.
It was a sunny day in Memphis, Tennessee. No day for staying indoors, but indoors I was. Sitting at a computer. (Not unlike the present, ironically.) I was composing my first ~blog~. A cadet in the army of MySpacers, learning the drills of HTML codes and Photobucket navigation. In way of study, I researched the blogging history of one of my early “friends,” an old pal from highschool. His entries were witty, well-ordered, clever and verbose. “I can do that. Order up!” I thought. But then as I sat…and sat…and typed and deleted and cut and pasted, I realized that it was going to take more time and material than I had at present to conjure up such humor and entertainment. The bar was set. The seed planted.
Before long, I began to notice how many comments his blogs received. Ten, no twenty, if you give it time to circulate! People even race to be the first to comment! He gets ‘blog requests’ in his comments columns if he lets too much time lapse in between entries (i.e. 3 or 4 days). Hmm. “Ooo, everyone wave at Mr. Popular as his blog scrolls by!”
But I wanted to be read! I wanted to be funny! I wanted comments and kudos and subscribers! But I quickly realized three bullet point reasons why he and I are destined for separate Blogger paths.
1. He has natural humor. Most of his blogs are written on the fly with not so much as a proofread before he hits POST! And he is that funny. I read and edit and reread and rearrange and it still isn’t funny.
2. He is single. I am married, with three homeschooled kids and a household to run. I just don’t have that much time.
3. He has a laptop, and with it the convenience of blogging at the drop of a joke. My inadequate silliness is spent by the time I earn my turn in the office.
So I guess this blog is the confession and repentance of my fruitless vie for MySpace prom queen. I will now return to my rightful place as ‘Most Likely to Write Practical & Applicable Blogs.’ And if I don’t get a stream of comments and new subscribers on this one, then I will consider it confirmed. Feigned funny isn’t my best color. And maybe transparency isn’t either.
MySpace Prom Queen.
May 27, 2006
Alert! Alert! A new sin has been unleashed on the unsuspecting public! Its victims are usually those who have been rendered susceptible by an existing ‘Ego-metastasizory’ or possibly in conjunction with ‘Pridus Virucosus.’ This new debauchery has been dubbed — “Blog Envy!” (*gasp!*)
In Romans 1, Paul lists among his renown “twenty-one sins of the condemned” – inventors of evil. I would like to think that I am not the inventor in this case. Rather just a credulous fellow-blogger like yourself who has fallen into this snare, set by an unscrupulous enemy. “But what is blog envy?” you ask.
It was a sunny day in Memphis, Tennessee. No day for staying indoors, but indoors I was. Sitting at a computer. (Not unlike the present, ironically.) I was composing my first ~blog~. A cadet in the army of MySpacers, learning the drills of HTML codes and Photobucket navigation. In way of study, I researched the blogging history of one of my early “friends,” an old pal from highschool. His entries were witty, well-ordered, clever and verbose. “I can do that. Order up!” I thought. But then as I sat…and sat…and typed and deleted and cut and pasted, I realized that it was going to take more time and material than I had at present to conjure up such humor and entertainment. The bar was set. The seed planted.
Before long, I began to notice how many comments his blogs received. Ten, no twenty, if you give it time to circulate! People even race to be the first to comment! He gets ‘blog requests’ in his comments columns if he lets too much time lapse in between entries (i.e. 3 or 4 days). Hmm. “Ooo, everyone wave at Mr. Popular as his blog scrolls by!”
But I wanted to be read! I wanted to be funny! I wanted comments and kudos and subscribers! But I quickly realized three bullet point reasons why he and I are destined for separate Blogger paths.
1. He has natural humor. Most of his blogs are written on the fly with not so much as a proofread before he hits POST! And he is that funny. I read and edit and reread and rearrange and it still isn’t funny.
2. He is single. I am married, with three homeschooled kids and a household to run. I just don’t have that much time.
3. He has a laptop, and with it the convenience of blogging at the drop of a joke. My inadequate silliness is spent by the time I earn my turn in the office.
So I guess this blog is the confession and repentance of my fruitless vie for MySpace prom queen. I will now return to my rightful place as ‘Most Likely to Write Practical & Applicable Blogs.’ And if I don’t get a stream of comments and new subscribers on this one, then I will consider it confirmed. Feigned funny isn’t my best color. And maybe transparency isn’t either.
A Sense of Heaven.
May 24, 2006
I have often wondered if the sacred presence we feel when we kneel before God’s throne in prayer and conversation is more than just experiential. When your mind is quieted before the Lord, your heart so thankful, a life lifted in praise and worship… to the listening heart of a holy God. That place where you escape and find refuge in the shadow of His wing, where you soul is comforted and fears are soothed — until one of the kids walks in, already mid-sentence, and you feel like you just got yanked out of a coma and thrown into an ice bucket!
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”(1 Corinthians 13:12)
Is it possible that as God has placed eternity in our hearts, and as we worship God with our spirits, which are eternal and supernatural, that we are in fact partaking of the worship that is physically in progress in heaven? Is it possible that our soul communes with Him on a level that is more rooted in reality than what we see with our eyes? I wonder if the climate of heaven is wildly amplified, and yet perfectly harmonized to our yearning souls. While I am curious about the sights and tastes of heaven, I am most eager for the sounds.
I have always been a “sing-it-from-the-heart” kind of girl! I remember belting ‘My Country Tis of Thee’ at the top of my lungs in my third grade classroom. And when I am in the car listening to Charles Billingsley or the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, I am still that little girl. Music has a way of communicating things for which there are no words. Expressions of jubilance and sorrow alike. Whether I am alone in the paces of my day or on stage, full of life or empty and depleted, on the mountaintop or in the wilderness, there is always a theme song playing in my head. A tune that matches the rhythm of my heart and a message that articulates the thoughts of my soul.
I have always considered this to be a special link between me and God. Not superior, but unique to me and Him. Like a secret code that best friends have. Often it is in those moments of “Worshipful Laundry Folding” or my “Communion Drive to Speech Therapy” that I most closely interact with the Lord. And I have sometimes wondered if they are reflective of what the sounds of heaven are like. Perfect harmonies against a backdrop of melodic heart-strums. But then this week, I caught a fresh glimpse.
“Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all. And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them. (Mark 10:14-16)
I was driving along, listening to Shout to the Lord Kids 2. (A great CD series, which I highly recommend for family enjoyment) Suddenly the ‘ears of my heart’ were opened, and I tuned in to the tiny voices coming from the back seat, singing, “Jeee-zuuuus, Lamb of God, Wuuuurthy is Your na-a-a-ame. Jeee-zuuus, Lamb of God, Wuuuurthy is Yer name.” And in that moment, with goosebumps on my arms, I was transported before the throne, as though now God was letting me glimpse true worship. Without the clutter of a to-do list. Without the hang-ups of years gone by. Without the doubts and sins and weights that creep in and take root in our hearts, clouding our vision of holiness and the divine. I sat completely still, afraid to spook them or they might go quiet. Taking in the sweet melody of their innocent worship.
“Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne and the living creatures and the elders; and the number of them was myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.” (Revelations 5:11-12)
I have developed a new rhythm for my conversational theme songs. Less pitch, more heart. Less baggage and imitation and pretense, more Jesus. May He never cease to open His heart to my meager offerings. May He never cease to speak through both triumphant harmonies and the lilting melodies of children.
‘Till He returns or calls me home/ Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”
Come Lord Jesus, Come!
A Sense of Heaven.
May 24, 2006
I have often wondered if the sacred presence we feel when we kneel before God’s throne in prayer and conversation is more than just experiential. When your mind is quieted before the Lord, your heart so thankful, a life lifted in praise and worship… to the listening heart of a holy God. That place where you escape and find refuge in the shadow of His wing, where you soul is comforted and fears are soothed — until one of the kids walks in, already mid-sentence, and you feel like you just got yanked out of a coma and thrown into an ice bucket!
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”(1 Corinthians 13:12)
Is it possible that as God has placed eternity in our hearts, and as we worship God with our spirits, which are eternal and supernatural, that we are in fact partaking of the worship that is physically in progress in heaven? Is it possible that our soul communes with Him on a level that is more rooted in reality than what we see with our eyes? I wonder if the climate of heaven is wildly amplified, and yet perfectly harmonized to our yearning souls. While I am curious about the sights and tastes of heaven, I am most eager for the sounds.
I have always been a “sing-it-from-the-heart” kind of girl! I remember belting ‘My Country Tis of Thee’ at the top of my lungs in my third grade classroom. And when I am in the car listening to Charles Billingsley or the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, I am still that little girl. Music has a way of communicating things for which there are no words. Expressions of jubilance and sorrow alike. Whether I am alone in the paces of my day or on stage, full of life or empty and depleted, on the mountaintop or in the wilderness, there is always a theme song playing in my head. A tune that matches the rhythm of my heart and a message that articulates the thoughts of my soul.
I have always considered this to be a special link between me and God. Not superior, but unique to me and Him. Like a secret code that best friends have. Often it is in those moments of “Worshipful Laundry Folding” or my “Communion Drive to Speech Therapy” that I most closely interact with the Lord. And I have sometimes wondered if they are reflective of what the sounds of heaven are like. Perfect harmonies against a backdrop of melodic heart-strums. But then this week, I caught a fresh glimpse.
“Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all. And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them. (Mark 10:14-16)
I was driving along, listening to Shout to the Lord Kids 2. (A great CD series, which I highly recommend for family enjoyment) Suddenly the ‘ears of my heart’ were opened, and I tuned in to the tiny voices coming from the back seat, singing, “Jeee-zuuuus, Lamb of God, Wuuuurthy is Your na-a-a-ame. Jeee-zuuus, Lamb of God, Wuuuurthy is Yer name.” And in that moment, with goosebumps on my arms, I was transported before the throne, as though now God was letting me glimpse true worship. Without the clutter of a to-do list. Without the hang-ups of years gone by. Without the doubts and sins and weights that creep in and take root in our hearts, clouding our vision of holiness and the divine. I sat completely still, afraid to spook them or they might go quiet. Taking in the sweet melody of their innocent worship.
“Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne and the living creatures and the elders; and the number of them was myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.” (Revelations 5:11-12)
I have developed a new rhythm for my conversational theme songs. Less pitch, more heart. Less baggage and imitation and pretense, more Jesus. May He never cease to open His heart to my meager offerings. May He never cease to speak through both triumphant harmonies and the lilting melodies of children.
‘Till He returns or calls me home/ Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”
Come Lord Jesus, Come!
An Original Parable Poem.
May 22, 2006
Who was gifted to a family of five.
He and two sibling kitties
Grew from small itty-bitties
To big, furry and fluffy felines.
This Tarzan was so lovey-dovey,
And his humans had made him so comfy;
Always was seen
A Tarzan, primped and preened,
Sprawled out, a-doze, on his tummy.
But one day no Tarzan was found,
Though the five scavenged all over town,
Flyers were created,
Search teams delegated,
But three gloomy girlshad their doubts.
“O, where could our Fair Tarzan be?
While we sorrow amidst our wee three,”
The couches sit empty;
The food dish aplenty,
No meowing to yowl us to sleep!
But day four as the sun was a-setting,
Our hearts did abandon their fretting,
Five “Yippee!’s” were cried
As a call verified
Our tabby had been ’sitter-petting!’ (Wah-hoo!)
The rejoicing began quite immediate,
The skipping and singing elaborate;
With kitty in tow,
To our home we did go,
With pettings and purrings commensurate!
I am reminded of another reunion,
Distraught Shepherd, lost coins and a wayward son,
But upon their return,
Great favor was earned
For the lost that again hadbeen won.
Have you failed, disappointed, been rejected?
Remember you are never neglected,
Your Shepherd stands near,
The Father’s listening ear,
Your path always closely directed.
Return to your home and find favor,
He will not judge fierce your behavior,
Forgiveness is found,
Rejoicing resounds,
O, Rest in the arms of your Savior.
An Original Parable Poem.
May 22, 2006
Who was gifted to a family of five.
He and two sibling kitties
Grew from small itty-bitties
To big, furry and fluffy felines.
This Tarzan was so lovey-dovey,
And his humans had made him so comfy;
Always was seen
A Tarzan, primped and preened,
Sprawled out, a-doze, on his tummy.
But one day no Tarzan was found,
Though the five scavenged all over town,
Flyers were created,
Search teams delegated,
But three gloomy girlshad their doubts.
“O, where could our Fair Tarzan be?
While we sorrow amidst our wee three,”
The couches sit empty;
The food dish aplenty,
No meowing to yowl us to sleep!
But day four as the sun was a-setting,
Our hearts did abandon their fretting,
Five “Yippee!’s” were cried
As a call verified
Our tabby had been ’sitter-petting!’ (Wah-hoo!)
The rejoicing began quite immediate,
The skipping and singing elaborate;
With kitty in tow,
To our home we did go,
With pettings and purrings commensurate!
I am reminded of another reunion,
Distraught Shepherd, lost coins and a wayward son,
But upon their return,
Great favor was earned
For the lost that again hadbeen won.
Have you failed, disappointed, been rejected?
Remember you are never neglected,
Your Shepherd stands near,
The Father’s listening ear,
Your path always closely directed.
Return to your home and find favor,
He will not judge fierce your behavior,
Forgiveness is found,
Rejoicing resounds,
O, Rest in the arms of your Savior.
We Interrupt This Broadcast.
May 19, 2006
Who knows what is the most recent inductee into the Toy Hall of Fame? Well, let me tell you…it’s not the Leap Frog Leap Pad. It is also not the Nintendo. Or the Baby Einstein series. It is the box. The cardboard box to be specific. Odd, you say? More likely, you have probably just been transported to a childhood memory. Remember those days?
Today was a rainy day in Virginia. The kids are tired of Mario, bored with videos and weary of drawing (and there are no more closets to organize). It was time for one of those heroic, mom-saves-the-day moments. But what? Then I remembered the box!
There is a charming, locally-owned book shop here in town that has all sorts of specialty things that my kids love to play with. Whenever I go to scavenge for books or homeschool materials, I quickly lose them to the “Dress-Up Gazebo” or the “Glow-In-The-Dark Museum.” One of their favorite toys there is the Puppet Corner. They stock every puppet you can think of from garden vegetable puppets to police officer puppets to Red Riding Hood and the wolf. Plus–they have the “super-cool-mom-can-we-please-please-get-this” puppet staging box, complete with velvet tie-back curtains. As would any budget-familiar mom, I always put them off. Who can drop $50 on a puppet stage?
But today, as the rain streamed down the windows around us, I remembered the box. Not just any ordinary box, but an unusually large box we had received from an E-bay shipment. “Hmm…” I thought. My mind began to flourish with ideas as I thought of my scrapbooking papers and leftover stickers. “Hmm…” I thought as I remembered my bag of fabric scraps and those extra spring rods in the storage room. “Yes, yes, this might actually work!”
And so we began. Kids enjoy something more if they are personally invested and can take some credit for the end product. (They also take better care of it!) So they got to work cutting and taping and sewing and coloring, and before long the rainy-day blues were long forgotten.
I think there is one simple reason that the box has made such an impression on kids across the generations–it fosters imagination! While the advancements in technological games and educational toys are all noble and impressive, they don’t replace the foundational use of one’s creative and inventive skills. Pretending to be the princess awaiting your rescue from the dungeon is better than navigating Mario’s world with a red button and a blue button any day!
And so the box joins the ranks with Legos, Play-dough and Crayola crayons (also toys that require imagination, I might add). And another rainy day is saved! Three cheers for the cardboard box! (Hurrah!) Three cheers for the Puppet Theater! (Hurrah!) Three cheers for the… –*SHHH!*–Oh! Well on with the show then!!
We Interrupt This Broadcast.
May 19, 2006
Who knows what is the most recent inductee into the Toy Hall of Fame? Well, let me tell you…it’s not the Leap Frog Leap Pad. It is also not the Nintendo. Or the Baby Einstein series. It is the box. The cardboard box to be specific. Odd, you say? More likely, you have probably just been transported to a childhood memory. Remember those days?
Today was a rainy day in Virginia. The kids are tired of Mario, bored with videos and weary of drawing (and there are no more closets to organize). It was time for one of those heroic, mom-saves-the-day moments. But what? Then I remembered the box!
There is a charming, locally-owned book shop here in town that has all sorts of specialty things that my kids love to play with. Whenever I go to scavenge for books or homeschool materials, I quickly lose them to the “Dress-Up Gazebo” or the “Glow-In-The-Dark Museum.” One of their favorite toys there is the Puppet Corner. They stock every puppet you can think of from garden vegetable puppets to police officer puppets to Red Riding Hood and the wolf. Plus–they have the “super-cool-mom-can-we-please-please-get-this” puppet staging box, complete with velvet tie-back curtains. As would any budget-familiar mom, I always put them off. Who can drop $50 on a puppet stage?
But today, as the rain streamed down the windows around us, I remembered the box. Not just any ordinary box, but an unusually large box we had received from an E-bay shipment. “Hmm…” I thought. My mind began to flourish with ideas as I thought of my scrapbooking papers and leftover stickers. “Hmm…” I thought as I remembered my bag of fabric scraps and those extra spring rods in the storage room. “Yes, yes, this might actually work!”
And so we began. Kids enjoy something more if they are personally invested and can take some credit for the end product. (They also take better care of it!) So they got to work cutting and taping and sewing and coloring, and before long the rainy-day blues were long forgotten.
I think there is one simple reason that the box has made such an impression on kids across the generations–it fosters imagination! While the advancements in technological games and educational toys are all noble and impressive, they don’t replace the foundational use of one’s creative and inventive skills. Pretending to be the princess awaiting your rescue from the dungeon is better than navigating Mario’s world with a red button and a blue button any day!
And so the box joins the ranks with Legos, Play-dough and Crayola crayons (also toys that require imagination, I might add). And another rainy day is saved! Three cheers for the cardboard box! (Hurrah!) Three cheers for the Puppet Theater! (Hurrah!) Three cheers for the… –*SHHH!*–Oh! Well on with the show then!!
