Happy day to you! And if not, the same to you as well. May you have beans on your toast and an evangelical wren in your tree, a hat for your scalp and the truest of smiles in your eye. May your music have fiddles and each meal a cup lifted with our Christ.
Debra and I have been married for two months, as of this afternoon. Life is busy and transitional, leaving less focus than optimal for artistic pursuit. Does that mean there is less balance in my life, or is there simply a different balance?
Life, also, is good in this marriage experience. While I don’t expect this blog to become a journal of marired life, that reality will be evident, of course. Faulkner now has an indoor counterpart named Minou, Debra’s black cat for the last 15 years. That brings new appreciation for the Get Fuzzy comic strip.
Sharing photos has become difficult with the slowness of iPhoto on this old computer. A new one is in sight, but it might still be a while before funds make it possible. When it happens, I’ll pick a few representative photos of the wedding and the Texas trip to share.
Thank you for the comments about Balance, both here and on Facebook. I look forward to renewing meaningful written exchange with you before another long time passes.
This morning has been a useful time of creative spiritual churning. And if feels natural to come to this blog and tell you that.
Releasing oneself through the helplessness of prayer is such a good start.
Sometimes the sun looks different, and I like that.
In an effort to further prime the pump for blog writing, here is my latest installment for the church newsletter:
Most of you have been going to the grocery store long enough to know that “Contents May Settle.” As a result of this settling, there are so many more raisins at the bottom of the box than at the top. Raisin Bran is what I’m talking about, in case you didn’t know. (Yes, here’s another opening ramble from the breakfast musings of your pastor.) And these aren’t just regular dried grapes; they’re raisins that have been sweetened to the point of rendering them almost candy. Wow! What a difference there is between both the taste and the nutrition content from the top and the bottom of the cereal box. Could somebody check my blood sugar, please?
You’ve probably noticed the same thing with other products. When you buy potato chips, you get half a bag of free air as a bonus. The chips huddle at the bottom and scrape their salt from one another, creating an oily, salty slick of crumbs that could cure meat.
This type of gravity-induced retreat from the mouth of the eater happens in many products, including some which aren’t even food, like laundry detergent. That’s why dry contents are measured by weight, not by volume.
What method, would you say, do most Christians use to measure their contents? …by weight, or by volume? That’s a throwaway question really, because talk about “most Christians” does not help us get to a point of personal faith impact. What we really need to consider is how we measure our own content. Weight is a matter of substance, how much stuff is really there. Volume is a matter of how much room you take up. Volume, also, is a matter of how loud you get (another way of filling space).
How are you measuring the contents you carry? And has the shelf life of your contents caused a settling that maybe compromises the real value of what is there? It’s just a question…I need to go brush my teeth.
…But driving over it on the bridge, I saw an unusual sight. A disc-like shape caught my attention. Looking back I saw an open umbrella, topside down, floating with the current like a round, tall-masted boat. I wonder what the story behind that was.
The other day I did something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. While brushing my teeth, the toothbrush flew out of my hand and landed in the sink. Of course, that’s never going in my mouth again. So I reached in the drawer, opened a new toothbrush, and finished the job with the new one. As far as I know, that’s the only time I’ve started brushing with one brush and finished with another.