I'm back

Life gets some changes, we get changed in the process. So, here we re-start the semi-retired blog. Here is the biggest change in my life. Prettier things do exist than this, but that is ok.

The Eye

This beautiful eye happens to be Rachel's. I view it often, and it has become a reminder. First, it reminds me of those many sets of little eyes that watch us adults, and the responsibilites we have in what they see in us. Secondly, it makes me want to learn about what they see, and how they view their world. Maybe this second thought process is the most critical. None of us can make a difference if we decline the opportunity to view the world through the eyes of a child. Now, in unison, let us all go "hmmmm".

I am Whining

One of my all time favorite sites for my personal learning, www.vh.org (virtualhospital.org) has been pulled from online due to "lack of funding". I am officially whining about this. But it makes me wonder what would happen with similar cease operation notices that we might find:

1. Due to lack of laughter, no more cartoons about mis-aimed shotguns.
2. Due to lack of need, all hospitals will close effective immediately. (I would love this one)
3. Due to lack of taste, McDonalds will no longer serve french fries. Oh how we dream of this.
4. Due to lack of human interest, heaven is canceled. Makes me wonder if this sometimes does not cross God's mind. Even if it is true, living a Christian lifestyle would still be worthwhile. Maybe we should show more interest and activity in heaven, especially if we are going to denote it as "home"?

Still, I miss www.vh.org.

cities and cars

I grew up identifying cars by their make and model, and rarely was wrong. That love of cars still lingers. First time riders in my vehicle routinely get warned that antiques, hot rods, and classic cars will interrupt all good conversations.

So, I started noticing a trend this week in the names of models of cars. It seems that the most original of our manufacturers can best summon their wisdom by designating a vehicle with the name of a city. To prove my point, I offer the following cars and names. The Durango (CO) of Dodge; Tacoma (WA) pickup built by Toyota; Tuscon (AZ) SUV built by Nissan; Malibu (CA), Chevy's long time staple; Yukon (AK) truck by GMC; and the Eagle (ID) sports car Aaron test drove once.

Some cars have numbers and symbols that make me wonder what McNally's map coordinates they were designating. Some day, I will take those Mercedes series numbers and see what city they indicate on either a Google, Yahoo, or Mapquest map. Either that, or use the numbers at some Bingo game.

There are several cities that I think manufacturers should use to name new models of vehicles. Now, with all the dignity of a naming agency, I offer my observations on those selected cities. Yes, these are real American cities.

1. Weeping Water (NE)--a constantly leaking radiator has held this mini van from real sales success.
2. Plainville (MA) no chrome, cloth and no leather, no hubcaps, no radio, no wipers
3. Gray (ME) you guessed it, available in only one color.
4. The Kennedy, a heavy sedan, liberally loaded with many options, many speaker options
5. Venice (CA) an import complete with Pirelli tires
6. Paw Paw (MI) drives like a beagle, looks like a poodle
7. Dodgeville (WI) made by Kia
8. Great Falls (MT) failed most safety tests
9. Belcherville (MA) noisy, struggles to pass emission tests
10. Scalp Level (PA) sold well to heady executives
11. Trophy Club (TX) professional athlete choice in wheels
12. Welcome (SC) never has a driver of these recieved an aggressive driving ticket
13. Pleasureville (KY) designed as a first car for teens, complete with DVD, built in oversized woofers, powered by Blueberry
14. Providence (MD) preferred by all clergy
15. De Witt (AR) one year after introduction, renamed the Dimwit
16. Corn (OK) first grain fueled vehicle successfully marketed in urban America
17. Iverness (FL) standard equiped with golf cart and trailer
18. Signal Hill (CA) never stops blinking
19. Superior (WI) name was a farce, first car built completely with plastic
20. Iron Gate (VA) a return to steel vehicles, weighs 3.6 tons for a 2 door sedan
21. Enterprise (KS) built to satisfy 2 consumer groups, one for Spock and his friends, the other for successful business owners
22. Bald Knob (AR) a shiny car, complete with removable top
23. Nacodoches (TX) pronounce it correctly the first time and get 10% rebate
24. Sheboygan (WI) just because I would love to hear kindergarten kids try to tell their teacher what kind of SUV their mom drives.

2 Homecomings

Today we (Becky and I) had the privilege of being with the family members of the USS Ingraham to greet crew members arriving home from Iraq. I have always gotten rather "mushy" when viewing service members returning home to their families. Today, that was us getting to welcome Dick home.

The weather was far from cooperative, and the closer the ship got to dock, the greater the intensity of rain and the increasing of the wind. One could not help but notice that even the seagulls flying overhead looked lonely and windblown. Puget Sound was decked in a very bland shade of grey, making the arriving grey ship very difficult to see, let alone photograph. Not one person left due to inclement weather, nor did any sailor complain about the couple of hours standing on board in rain, for they were going to be reunited with family, some who had come from far distances.

The security surrounding the arrival was very apparent. Three times we had to show our ID before we got onto the dock. The ship had police escort in the Sound. Simply a sign of the times.

Becky and I found it easy to talk with different families as we waited. While we had never been introduced, we all had something in common; someone we loved was coming home. One little girl was curled up on her grandmother's lap shivering, and when asked if she wanted to go to the car to get warm and wait till the ship arrived, shook her head in convincing negative motion. Her daddy was coming home, and she would not leave till he arrived.

As the ship manuevered against the dock, the band played, and several times, the assembly of people broke out into spontaneous applause. We could see the sailors lining the ship, carefully in the "at ease" position while docking. However, the nearer they got, the more the professional positions broke down. For they could identify family waiting just a few feet away, and the waving and blowing of kisses began. Nothing could contain the emotions that were visible. We watched the inevitable "slowness" of the positioning of the gangplank that would allow sailors to exit. Now the anticipation and impatience accelerated.

Finally, the exiting began. First was the winner of the "first kiss" and then the new daddies deboarded. Then, a few at a time, sailors began exiting. "Daddy!" That was a sound of a little girl from behind us who had just spotted her daddy coming toward her. She would not wait till he walked up to where she and her sister and mother were. She ran, fully focused on her dad. The soft old man in me loved seeing that. All was well, she had here daddy's arms around her.

Watching the renewal of relationships fascinated me. The months of seperation melted away at the embrace of loved ones. Then it was our turn.

Because of Amanda not being able to be there, Dick had watch. He was positioned on board near where all visitors began their tour of the boat. Once we spotted him, he waved us on board to greet him. I shook his hand, and got a cursory hug (no complaint). Becky got the longer hug then as well as the hug before we left him. (this I expected). The privilege of being there to welcome someone home lingers vividly in my mind. Dick and Amanda have become same as family to us. This was personal, this was memorable for us.

The emotions of pride in someone arriving in this grandeur and style and patriotism is an experience that I wish every person could experience. Everyone deserves to be welcomed home and told thank you, and a job well done. I am thankful that we had the privilege of saying that.


However, there is a second homecoming that kept flashing through my mind while we waited and anticipated Dick's arrival. For this homecoming, the security we noticed today will not be needed, for this battle has already been won. And we know the final score. The grey of storm clouds will never be seen again, for the Son will be shining brightly.

Like the little girl who ran upon seeing her daddy, we too will have one person as the center of our focus. We must see Jesus. Nothing less will do. Like the song, I can only imagine what our response will be. There will be a great cloud of witnesses watching for our arrival; now I know in part what being part of those witnesses feels like.

Perhaps the most wonderful part of this homecoming is the parallel with wanting everyone to experience what we did today. For this second homecoming is one all of us have the opportunity to experience. It is for "whosoever will come". It beckons us, and the same as this arrival date was anticipated and longed for, I know that someday soon, I will get to hear the words, "welcome home", from the One who loved me more than I can ever deserve or imagine.

Until then, may my focus to run to my Father mirror the attention of that little girl. May my eyes search the crowd until I see the face of my Saviour as clearly as she saw her daddy.

I loved the homecoming today. Even more so, I determine to experience this second homecoming. Meet me there.

Welcome home, sir. Job well done! Thank you for serving, Dick.

in honor of: my wife

If there is one picture that could best define my wife's personality, this would be it. It is the famous "grandma kiss". Many kids have recieved it, including the territorial mark of lipstick on a cheek or a forehead. Her love for children, especially her grandkids, has always awed me of her.

She is a lady. Always has been a lady. One with a very strong faith, quietly and consistently lived out. Never once have I seen her act inappropriately for the circumstances, or dress inappropriately for who she is. I have never seen her misrepresent herself as a Christian anywhere in her world. Very few people can ever say this, including me about myself.

She has loved without reserve. Her loyalty to her family and friends has always amazed me. It has been extended far beyond what I have ever deserved. Her love for others runs far deeper than what most people realize. Yet, quietly, her influence has changed many lives.

During Christmas this past month, I listened to my boys. How quickly it became obvious that their strengths mirror their mother's qualities. I like that. For all the times she did not think she was being listened to as they were growing up, the reflection of her in their lives is part of what I admire about each of them so much.

I love watching her eyes sparkle. They make her face smile. All I can do to thank her for her patience and love toward me is to continue the privilege of being her friend and spouse. That is indeed an easy choice. I want to be here with her, my partner and my friend.

beginning again

This is what my face has been feeling like and probably looking like. Soon I shall start posting stuff---and yes, I have stuff to post. Bear with me!

Scary Lady

We recieved a resume and cover letter from a lady this week to become a sales lady. I will not reveal the total ugliness of her resume. However, just a few notes from her cover letter---along with my editorial comments. No, not even my most vivd crazy imagination could make up this mess she presented as "professional".
She begins by telling us her name. Then, "I am the proud mother of two adult children as well as the awestruck grandmother of 2 year old miracle, Aurora. My mostly Siamese, part calico cat Angeliqua, lets me share her home in Lynnwood. There we prefer reading and listening to easy jazz to watching TV."

She also states she was the church board president. Then these great words: "Monthly I facilitate the book club at my local public library as well as assist friends with self actualization workshops."

For the sake of your stomach's ability to digest horrible stuff, I will skip to the following: "I have a BA in English, a Master's in Library & Information Studies from the accredited University of Oklahoma and a Washington State teaching certificate."

I have been a ____, _____, ____, and___. "In all of these positions I have had to ask questions and listen to customers to obtain information which had to be processed in some way and communicated back clearly to help them achieve their goals of a home, a trip, the right book or a successful book fair."

My observations: 1. The cat reads? bifocals or contact lenses? 2. If cat prefers easy jazz, does she get the hard jazz? 3. How ugly is a Siamese/calico cat in reality? If you had that unique of a "mutt" cat, would you really brag or hide it with a paper sack? 4. Am glad you have your family, but you cannot bring them to work. 5. Did both her and the cat also run the church board meetings? 6. Do I dare ask? what is self actualization workshops? Is that where you spend alot of time saying/acting/finding me me me me???

And about the English degree. I would recommend she go back and take the unaccredited version of the University of Oklahoma. Make Oklahoma proud. Lastly, what kind of sentence is this last one I quoted--simply 49 words to say absolutely nothing. Someone needs to help her achieve her goals.

After all this ranting, still, God loves her. I am thankful this love will be exhibited some other office--who needs a cat with an affinity for jazz capable of helping others find theirselves and meet their goals. Poor cat!!!

neck

Officially, yes, I am having problems with my neck. Officially, yes I have begun to get the L & I claim reopened. No, this ain't going away. Just remember, I WILL be getting a new body one day soon.

Taylor family

This picture is from May 05. Now, four months later, the girls have grown and changed alot. Their mom no longer wears the graduation gown (duh). And I am still called grandpa Marlin. While Justice has mastered the phrase, grandma Becky, Jackie still calls her grandma Marlin.

Just over a year ago, we met Dick and Amanda who had 2 little blonde haired girls. I had bent down to look eye to eye with both little girls on the sidewalk approaching church. After I said good morning, Jackie reached over and gave me a big hug. That melted my heart--and fast. After church, Becky met them, and the friendship begun. Becky and I easily found their friendship as one valued and enjoyed. With Dick being in the Navy, he was often gone on training exercises. Shortly after Dick left on a training mission, Sierra was born (Nov 1).

Dick and Amanda are a fabulous couple. Dick has an intense desire to be a father to his kids and provide for his family. He is unselfish and shares his knowledge and skills (cooking, computer, mechanical) with his friends. Amanda is an incredibly strong lady--drove herself to the hospital for Sierra's birth, and then drove herself home less than 24 hours later. Together, they make a neat couple who share a deep committment to each other and their kids. How I wish more families had parents equally committed to their children.

Life has a funny way of giving more than we could ever give. These three girls have worked their way into our hearts and lifes to the point where we are unbashedly attached to them. My joy is watching for their vehicle to drive up on Sunday morning to church and go out and help unload the Tahoe. I get greeted with "hi grandpa Marlin" loudly from Jackie and Justice and the smiles of Sierra. One of my biggest privileges was to get to carry Sierra into church her on first Sunday there. (yes, I was the proud substitute grandpa that day!) Jackie and Justice have a keen set of eyes for grandma Becky after church, and can spot her from across the foyer. They run full speed to her and give her a big hug. I love watching her face glow as they run to her.

One time Justice told me (extremely sad face) that I was not her real grandpa. I agreed, and then asked if it were ok for me to be a pretend grandpa. The explosion of a smile onto her face gave the positive answer. Jackie likes to press her face against my cheek while we are singing in church. It has encouraged me to try to sing more.

Soon--all too soon, Amanda and family are moving to Illinois. Dick's orders for service have reassigned him. When he returns from the war zone, he will be here for a couple of days, and then journey to reunite with them. This is a great move for their family and we are excited for them. They will be near their real grandpa (Amanda's dad). For us, there will be a hole in our hearts as they leave. We have been privileged to share "family" with them. They have opened their lives to us and blessed us with both acceptance and friendship. We are better people because of them. Our home will always be open to them, no invitation necessary. Somehow, we will stay in touch with them as they build their home and family together. We also committ to pray for them, that the committment Dick and Amanda made when they dedicated their kids to the Lord at church expands and grows.

Somehow I wish there were adequate means to say thank you to Dick and Amanda for sharing their family with us. We have been blessed far more than we dreamed of. They have allowed us to treat their children just like we treat our own grandchildren--and that is good for all of us. As the end of October comes and they fly away, there will be big holes in our hearts. Still, they go with our prayers and blessings.

Several have stated that Becky and I will need to "adopt" another family and love them the same as the Taylor kids. We have talked and considered that idea many times. Our prayer will be that God sends another family into our lives like he did Dick, Amanda, Justice, Jackie, and Sierra. It is a change in the philosophy of our home and our ministry that we like and will pursue. It will be called the Taylor project, in honor of 3 beautiful little girls.

Dick, Amanda, Justice, Jackie, and Sierra, thank you, we love you and appreciate you greatly. Come October, go, with God's richest blessings in your lives!

Pilchuck-Dad's Half of the Story

There it was, in front of me, the mountain. Standing next to me, I heard the husky, emotion-laden voice of my 14 year old son. “Don, do you know when my dad promised me he would climb this with me? When he was in the hospital. Now we get to do it.” With that, I began keeping a promise made to Nic several years prior to this date.

This story begins a few years before the climb. My wife and I had sensed that our youngest son was in a struggle for his life. We recognized symptoms of failure and discouragement, and sometimes felt helpless to stop the downhill slide. Then Don Gray invited him to go with his Sunday School class on a hiking trip. When Nic came home, we had a son excited about something in life for the first time. This was not the ordinary emotions of “it could be fun”, but more of the “YES” variety. I then told him that with the next hike, I wanted to go with him. That time almost never came. A moment of inattentive watching of where to put my foot caused a fall, and the ensuing struggles of surgery and recovery. Once, while lying in the hospital, I promised him that regardless of what it took, I would climb a mountain with him. Both of us needed this challenge-me for motivation to push myself physically to get past the limits being imposed upon me, and he needed it to affirm that dad did care about his world.

Mt. Pilchuck is hardly imposing compared to the other mountains in the Cascade Range. While quite accessible for day hiking, it seemed impossible for my body to conquer. That day, when Nic stated that today was the day for he and dad to climb together, his emotions overwhelmed him. It also affected me, for this was the time that 2 ½ years of physical therapy (3 times a week) had specifically been preparing me for.

As we started climbing, it did not take long for our group to discover a laggard among us—me. I needed more than twice the amount of rests and stops than any others, including the kids. Very quickly after beginning, the back and neck spasms started. However, as quickly as I slowed due to the physical limits, I also noticed that Nic adjusted his tempo to accommodate the speed I was proceeding at. It was his choice to stay near his dad even though he could have easily run ahead. He was not necessarily beside me the entire trip, but behind, in front, and beside me; but always within eyesight of his dad. Clearly, it was his choice to stay near his father.

This was my first of several spiritual lessons that God taught me on this climb. First, it was Nic’s choice to

remain with close distance to his father. I could not have demanded it. God began teaching me about

how important it was to remain within his reach--not run ahead as my normal proceedure had been. I

need to be near my Father--my responsibility to maintain.

By the time this hike occurred Nic had already been up Pilchuck several times, and had become familiar with the terrain. One of the first things I noticed was that my son was a helper to other hikers along the trail. He often pointed out trail markings,different rest areas, and particularly beautiful views. My focus became the privilege of watching my son in places I had only seen pictures of, not of the physical pain my body was screaming. For the first time in his life, I got to see how much he loved being outdoors and what his climbing meant to him. By watching him, I discovered how much of a man he was becoming—and I loved it.

Lesson number two: God’s focus is always on where his children are. He designed us for his fellowship

and companionship. He loves observing his children and talking with them during the journey.

Because of my being in my son’s world, I began to understand what it was like for God to enter our

world. The pain necessary for God to accomplish this was never the focal point for him. Rather, the cost

of the pain he deemed critical for any fellowship between God and man to happen. In a similar manner as

God entered our world, I entered my son’s world and loved it.

Approximately half way up during one of my many rest periods, Nic came over to where I was sitting down and made me an offer. “Dad, I know you are hurting, you tried, and it is okay. You don’t have to make it to the top. It is okay that you tried, I don’t want to see you hurting so much.” There was anguish showing on his face, for while he did not want his dad hurting, he also was attempting to conceal the disappointment of not being able to have me join him at the peak. It was easy for me to tell him that regardless of how many spasms happened or how many rest stops were needed, I was going to keep my promise and join him at the top. Instead of feet dragging and head down, he bounded anew with energy and determination to help me get there. He now knew I would keep my promise.

How many times have I run to God in prayer and begged for a different path, claiming that there had to

be an easier way, or that he had a wrong time or wrong manner to accomplish things? How many times

have I forgotten that when God makes a promise, we can rely on it? More commonly, how many times

have I discounted God’s ability to keep his promise to me because of circumstances that were seemingly

far too difficult? “The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made. The Lord

upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.” Psalms 145:13b-14 I had fallen, and Nic

needed lifting up. God kept his promise to both of us.

The last few feet are vertical and difficult. That close to the top, and yet, it seemed almost insurmountable. He coached me up the steps, and together we stood on the peak. To one side was a sheer drop-off and to the other, the valley below with our hometown. Nic looked at me, gave me an excited high-five with “WE MADE IT”! Then almost as quickly, his face clouded and tears for both of us began and he uttered one word, “thanks”. We embraced and wept together. When you are fourteen, hugging your dad in public is socially taboo. Yet for me, having my son say one word of thanks and show the overflow of emotion did not compare to even one ounce of the pain it cost to keep a promise to him.

The most incredible spiritual application came when I heard Nic say “thanks”. No word was ever more

beautiful, for it expressed words from his heart. He was not ashamed to tell dad thanks in this place

where hikers rejoiced at their accomplishments—and there were a bunch of hikers present. I understood

in part (small part) how God feels when we come to him in total gratitude saying thank you for what he

has done for us. “…give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

2nd Thessalonians 5:18

It changed our relationship forever. There were a lot of hiccups and miscues on both of our parts. However, this is when the father/son relationship changed to becoming a father/son/friend treasured bond.

Today, climbing the same mountain is beyond my capacity. I would love to climb another mountain with Nic. He has mountains of his own to climb that, like Pilchuck I cannot climb. My only prayer is that he continues to rely on his Heavenly Father’s promises to climb these mountains inasmuch as he discovered that summer he was fourteen years old with his dad.

grateful

If there is one attitude that will reflect where I am at currently---it is of being grateful. We went to a wedding this weekend. Because of our knowledge of the family, we knew about alot of the messes of second/third marriages that intertwine their way in this family. As the minister led the couple with a talk about marriage being before God as for a lifetime, I could not help but whisper in my wife's ear about how thankful I am that our kids never had to face the ex-stepgrandfather-twice-removed-but-still-active-in-my-life-introductions. (that is a real description of a relationship--not one created for sake of words). Another one is my mom's stepdad's wife's kid's child--and that is my cousin.

I wonder how painful it is to God to watch the way we have butchered so many relationships in "trying to find the right one". Thankful indeed that God's covenant to us did not include alot of trial runs at providing salvation. (as in: hmm the last attempt to provide a worthy bridge between God and man failed, what shall I send this time?) God uses the marriage covenant as a representative of his love for us. I am amazed at how simple yet complex that bond is.

Additionally, it makes me happy when I know that my kids know that I still love their mother. The best gift I have ever given my kids for them to know for sure that I love their mother. That has provided stability where all the rest of the life happenings seem so unstable. Equally, the fact that I know my grandkids are learning that their fathers honestly love their mothers makes me equally happy. The gift keeps on being given from one generation to another. God says this is good.

AND NOW THIS ANNOUNCEMENT

Coming soon, 3 stories will be posted on this blog. All three are in various stages of formation.
My side of the Pilchuck climb is nearing completion. It is harder than anticipated to cause words to say what my mind has been and is thinking. The other two stories are about grandkids; one of my physical grandkids, and the other about our adopted ones. "Stay tuned."

Tears

During the last few days, several conversations linger in my memory. They are words by those of us who are fathers. Listening to the mental replay later, the sound of the pain echos through my mind.

"I am going to detention to get my son. I will tell him that if he leaves home again, not to come back, our family is going a different direction."

"I am going to have a biopsy next week. I am scared, how do I tell my kids if it is serious?"

"I wish I would have had more money when these kids were growing up."

"What do I do? In a few months she will be gone from home. I am scared for her future.?

"Dad is dying. I will have lost both my parents this year. Then, it will be my generation's turn to pass, and my kids will deal with what I am having to deal with."

The tears fall, not visibly, but on the inside where it is easier to hide the pain. Still, life hurts, and we desperately need hope and comfort. The role of being strong all the time crumbles as life unfolds. Still.....

God hurts when He sees His children hurt. Why is it we are slow to recognize this fact? God's tears brought us the potential for healing. He is also there to wipe away the tears we shed inside our souls that no one else sees. Isn't it about time for us to remember that?

I think I am going nutso!

Some days are like this--nutso. Making sense out of anything is left for those whom are insanely delirious. Most of my world today has been that way. Perhaps, I should borrow that cup of coffee from Larry (my friend the bear) and acquire more mental alertness (now there is an oxymoron). May the whole world enjoy this link!! It speaks well of what I encountered on my email junk a loving friend sent to me today.

I tire of those who want me to instantly forward everything to everyone on my mailing list or I will suffer from a lack of God blessing my prayers (usually about a 10 minute window for compliance. Also, I don't think of some of these things as particularly cute! Cute is left for describing what lil kids are like--and some adult actions also. I also think some of the sob stories are better left for those who want to sob---and please, take my kleneex if you need some, and it is recycled from the last person who sobbed like you. Enjoy the link, and it is safe to forward it to at least 5 people in your mailing list.

I also tire of idiotic driving on the freeway. "Yield" does not mean get out of your way. And, did your car come with blinking directional lights as an expensive option you could not afford? Ok, enough of my yakking. My wife did make me a great dinner tonight, and that redeemed the entire day.

OH!!! I just noticed, some lil old man cannot even spell rambling correctly (as if in the name of my blog) Which reminds me, I need to learn how to add links on my page. (hint for Nic)

http://www.bordergatewayprotocol.net/jon/humor/web_animations/may02-smilepop-soapbox4.swf/

WHO LEFT THE SEAT UP?

The voice rings out loudly, "who left the seat up?" Everyone knows that it was me, even though either daughter-in-law who is currently yelling it to me knows exactly toward whom the finger points. All who hear the yelling also know toward whom the finger points. Being the culprit is the easiest task around.

Still, if the seat is up or down is one of the most profound ways to highlight the differences between men and women. Women think that the seat must be in a down position whenever the porcelain has been vacated--even my me. We guys are thinking of convenience, not room/utility appearances. The pictures above illustrate my thinking. Women would allow the use of "ugly but functional" duct tape to prevent us from showing the bottom side of a toilet seat to anyone who would enter the room. Guys would love to have additional functioning "tools" such as the picture on the left. Women think of beauty and appearance. We men think globally--of what many uses each thing could provide us. (kinda like stuffing all clothes into the same load in the washing machine--why waste time seperating colors and fabric? it all comes out clean in the end)

To allow a theological implication to this scene, I wonder how many times God has chuckled at men and women trying to co-exist in a world where obvious differences collide. We carefully and obediently (when we remember to) try to accomodate our spouses, mostly, I believe in a manner that has God shaking His head in amusement at our erstwhile endeavors. God must really enjoy His highest of creations, skillful at noting the differences we have, and yet inept at successfully dotting all the t's and crossing enough i's. Obviously, God has a sense of humor in enjoying His kids.

Just two thoughts. First, if we guys decorated the bottom of the toilet seats, would this be acceptable in allowing grace if the seats were left up? Just think ladies, it would be more beautiful than the current view. Secondly, I wonder (humor strictly intended) which way does God intend for seats to be left? Up or Down?

my baby pic--i found it

time to add the most recent writing of mine

Dear God,

Sometime I am so frustrated with learning how you view us. Right now, my emotions are running crazy with a sense of disorganization. At times, I want to tell you that I think you just don’t get it—as if I am “wise” enough to scream out directions telling you what to do.

How is it that you can love a poor punk kid from the wrong side of the tracks? How is it you never tire of our antics and irregular attention we give you? How is it that at one moment, life can be perceived as so blessed, and the very next, our emotions hit rock bottom? How is it that when we sense we have been the biggest failure on the planet, you place your stamp of approval on our lives? And most incredibly, you love the person that I just called stupid and irresponsible as much as you love me? Maybe I am the one who doesn’t get it.

You made me with a love for a sense of control, a desire to guide and direct and some abilities to help others. Still, with all the jagged edges in my life, it seems that wherever I turn, the proverbial brick wall is all my eyes can see. You made this body with strength, and I have damaged it till it is weak. While trying with all my best intentions to balance life, all I see now are deficits in all the wrong places. Knowing all this, how is it you still pursue me with all the love you possess?

So this is my prayer. Help me to understand that any circumstance I find myself in, I am there because you have allowed it to happen. Help me to understand that all circumstances I am part of you use as part of your redemptive plan, not only for me, but for all involved. Help me to know that you want each situation to be used to refine my heart, my will, and my understanding of you to keep my focus where it needs to be. Help me to know that your goal is eternity, while so many times, my focus is on the immediate. Help me to understand that you look at each man’s heart, not each man’s actions as I see them. May I begin to understand that your love cost you far more than we can imagine, and this defines how you want me to treat others. Forgive me when I fall flat on my face so often. Help me to understand that you desire to be my teacher, my friend, my leader, my helper, my guide, my healer, my forgiver, my everything. Help me, most of all, to begin to understand how you view me and love me.

Finally, thank you for never stopping your love for me. Thank you for your patience with my helplessness and rebellious actions. You really are incredible.

Trying to love you,

Marlin Casey

beginning

gotta get this blog thing started. boy do i have a learning curve to discover. welocme to my non-grammatically-correct typing.