An Unexpected Gift

I had no idea...
In the days before I'm scheduled to lead worship, I've got the song list rattling around in my head, rolling it around on the soundtrack of my life. I get to hear things God might be saying in my life through those songs that week, and I get a picture of how I think the songs might sound on Sunday. Might, just might. Just a picture.
And then this morniing we start 'Unchanging' with electric guitar and bass. Such instruments in the sanctuary would have sent the congregation into a shocked pout ten or even five years ago. But something wonderful happened.
Ben and Lex began a spin for me to float on the likes of which could otherwise only have come from Adam Clayton and the Edge. And I just rose. Up to God.

And I got to be Bono.

Of course the congregation came right along with us. Further up and further in. I knew they would. It was a sight and sound to behold.


I'm still giddy about it at one o'clock in the next morning.
Thanks guys.
Thanks, God.

ZOMBIE INSECTS INVADE A PARKING LOT NEAR YOU!

Mayflies. Gugh! If ever there were an insect perfectly made for a Hitchcock movie, "The Bugs," or a George Romero movie, "Night of the Mayfly," I've not yet met a more perfectly zombie-like bug.

I first encountered them by Lake St. Clair, Michigan, where my sister lives.

If it weren't that her Michigander husband is so nice and her children so adorable, I would never darken Michigan's door again because of those creepy floaty flappy things.Then, about five years ago, I found them swarming around the lights in the parking lot of our local shopping mall. EEEeeeeee, they followed me to Pittsburgh! It's more than the waving long tail-stinger looking thing they've got menacing on the hinter-end. It's the mindless stillness of the creatures as they cling to my windshield, or to my clothes, or to my arm. It's like they don't even know or care that they're about to be smeared by my windshield wiper - that's what they're here for. I would feel much better about sharing the world with them if I knew they were food for something noble or beautiful. Until that assurance is broadcast over the speakers in the plaza parking lot, I'm going to shudder every time I have to go pick up something at the store after 9 o'clock at night.

A little wisdom from Craig Ferguson and Eden Kennedy

Twelve minutes well spent. It's getting my day off to such a good start I had to post this now.
This is the first time I've linked to YouTube, so let me know if this did or didn't work.
Thanks to Mrs. Kennedy for the heads up. She's a wonderful writer and a wise soul.
So is Craig Ferguson!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=QJWlNPq0ftM
http://youtube.com/watch?v=tYhVnsCbCg0
one might consider this a twelfth step move on my part

Heading for the high seas

I'm going to sail away on this to see this !!

I won it, and I will tell more later!

Wheeee!

update

I've thrown the cheeseball away and written a letter to my father. If not the best things, the next right things.

I'm a bad, bad person

I don't know what to do. I'm actually processing this out in the blogosphere before I do something about it...
I forgot my father.
O my glory, I don't know what to do! I can't bring myself to call him and tell him I DID listen to his message that he'd be in town in a week or two and we should get together, but then forgot to answer him back.
I'm afraid I've hurt him. I'm afraid he'll yell at me (because, after all, I AM still eight years old)
I'm afraid he won't talk to me. I'm afraid he'll be mean. I'm afraid he'll say I'm a bad daughter, even though I think I'm a bad daughter, I always want my parents to tell me it's ok, they still love me.
And if I were the one who had been slighted, I would forgive, but I'm afraid.
I can't believe I did this! What's THAT about??
Thank you, anonymous internet people who may only be in my mind, thank you for listening.
Now what?
I have to do something.
I can't call him, I'm afraid.
If I write a letter, that's so lame.
Maybe I could pretend it never happened.
Yeah, "My answering machine is on the fritz."
"Oh, was that you? The sound was so crackly I didn't know WHO that was!"
I'm such an ass.
It's been burning on my conscience for a week now, and that PROVES what an ass I am. I woke up in the middle of the night last night, telling myself what a bad person I am.
It's like the longer I let this go, the worse it is, and that's exactly what an addict does, digs the hole deeper and deeper for fear of having to face the pain of cleaning up. And the cleanup is never as painful as living in the hole, but it's hard to get out of the hole.
Blah blah blah.
Help!
I've got to do it.
Lord, help!

Earth Day is EVERY day.

On Sunday mornings, the 'burgh can listen to "Living on Earth," a little radio show produced and hosted by the Mr. Rodgers of the airwaves, Steve Kerwin. He's got a strong, softly lilting voice, and a sensibility that seems to speak to me from my hopeful, activist time of my life, and reminds me that change is possible. I remember when we heard his message all over the place in the seventies, and now it's relegated to a back corner of public radio. ~sigh~ I need to be reminded and encouraged EVERY day that change is possible, that just beginning to make a connection to my neighbors or my city around taking care of the place in which we live. I'm thinking of getting my backyard neighbors together to do an alley clean-up! Our block could get together for a front yard clean up. Ok...what would this take?