Saturday, July 26, 2003

FINAL REQUEST

When I sat down to write I received word that Eddie Cantu has died of sudden stroke. He was the Pastor of the little congregation that uses our sanctuary for their church on Saturday nights. A spirited man with a devotion to God. I had only spoken with him on a few occasions but I know he was devout...I know he leaves behind many people who love him.

Tonight the "Father's Love" congregation will worship again, but Eddie will be with God. He was 48.
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The death of others always makes us confront our own mortality. That's a natural response.

I don't fear death.

It's not something I'm seeking mind you, but I'm not quaking in dread that death may come upon me.

I fear lingering.

God, if You're taking requests on this, I'd prefer that I go suddenly. I would rather not have the end of my life consume the lives of the people around me. While we're at it, could I request my death be painless?

We knew Eddie would likely pass away after learning of the severity of the stroke on Friday. Last night, Amy turned to me before we went to sleep and said, "I don't ever want a day to go by where I haven't told you I love you."

God, let me emphasize, I'm only making my wishes known in advance. I'd like to enjoy this life for as long as possible.

I'm in no hurry...

Friday, July 25, 2003

EYING THE PAST AND THE PRESENT

When I lived in the Dallas area in the 70's we would get a day off from school each Fall to go to the "State Fair." In 1973, I was brand new to Texas. A "city boy" compared to my friends. I had never been to any "fair" much less one as grand as the "State Fair of Texas." At age 16, I went to experience "The Fair" for the first time, wide eyed with anticipation.

The State Fair of Texas is held at Fair Park. It's not a very pleasant area. Back then Fair Park was dirty and smelly...a combination that wasn't beneficially enhanced by the seasoning of thousands of people shuffling past "Big Tex" following the aromatic allure of cotton candy and corn dogs.

"The Fair" featured what you might expect: overpriced food items, livestock, rides and sideshows. There were even a few thinly veiled gambling operations. I remember putting down a quarter on the "orange" segment of a color wheel and losing my money because a live rat ran into the "blue" hole.
If the rat had scrambled for safety into the orange hole I would have made a dollar.

That part of "The Fair" was still relatively tame. You had to wander a bit to find fuller adventures. Away from midway music and flashing lights we found them.

The Freak Shows.

This part of "The Fair" was not disguised in any illusion of amusement. It was a place to gawk, giggle, and gasp.

It was sad and sick.

I remember paying a quarter to see a naked fat man lying on a table inside a plexiglass trailer. He had to be naked otherwise we might not have believed he was real. Mercifully he was lying face down, spread out like a pancake. His rear end was covered by a towel. They said he weighed 900 pounds. I remember it well...I wish I didn't.

My most vivid memory is of "Popeye." He wasn't a sailor and he didn't eat spinach.

Popeye was an older black man whose hard life was betrayed by his appearance. Toothless and leathery.

Popeye made a living by popping out his eyeball.

My friends and I dutifully paid the 50 cent rate to be escorted into an area out of public view to see Popeye perform.

There was little fan fare. He looked at us..looked around to make sure no one was getting a free peak at this ocular oddity, then he cupped his nicotine tainted fingers under his eye and "boink"! His eyeball fell into his hand.

In an instant it popped back into his eye socket.

It was sudden and startling.

I'm still not really certain what I saw that day. At the time I was sure it wasn't a glass eye. My friends and I swore we saw tendons and "goo" dragging out behind the slightly jaundiced unblinking globe, but I was 16.

Now I'm 46, but I'm not certain what I'm seeing today either.

This "fair" memory came back as I was looking at the plethora of pictures taken of the dead sons of Saddam Hussein. Our government is trying to convince the Iraqi people that the demise of these demons is not an illusion. To that end someone, presumably not a carnival mastermind, ordered that their bullet riddled remains be made "life like." Mortician magicians have transformed these corpses into something eerie and odd. Waxy and frightening.

Freakish.

I'm not sad these beasts are dead, but I want to look away...and I think I want my 50 cents back.

Thursday, July 24, 2003

FATES AND FORTUNES

I'm thinking about angels today.

My friend Roy was supposed to help me clean the church today. I called him this morning to remind him, but he didn't show up. That worried me.

Roy is one of the older members of our church family. He's had heart problems, and heart surgeries.

I was wrapping up the cleaning work and preparing to call Roy to check on him when he drove up. Turns out the alternator in Roy's truck gave out as he was driving to the church. He didn't have a cell phone so he walked about a quarter mile in the August heat of Texas to a Catholic cemetery where he told me, "he has a good friend."

His friend hooked him up with two guys who went and got him an alternator and installed it in his truck on the side of the road. The entire process of breaking down, walking to find help, going to get the parts, and repairing his truck took about an hour.

I'm thinking about angels today.

The Pentagon published the pictures of the dead sons of Saddam today. They died in the home of a man named, Nawaf al-Zaidan. It's widely believed that their host was also the man who tipped off the military to their whereabouts. Nawaf al-Zaidan's resume lists only one job: Saddam glommer.

He has apparently survived for years by sucking up to Saddam and now he will receive 30 million dollars for betraying him.

I'm thinking about angels today.

About nine miles from our home is where the Century 21 real estate office is located where an employee with no known problems went on a rampage yesterday, killing two women and leaving another on life support.
Last night, Amy was on the phone with a friend who told her that the ex-wife of the man she's dating works at that office...but had called in sick yesterday.
This morning, my co-worker Stan told me his friend had an appointment to close on a house at that office at 2 yesterday afternoon, but got tied up and had to reschedule at the last minute.
This afternoon I received an email from my friend Cathy which said her neighbor works in that office. In the same room as the gunman. When the phone rang at 3 p.m. Cathy's friend left her desk to answer it, and immediately heard gunshots. The gunman soon was pointing the gun at her, but didn't pull the trigger. Instead he walked out the door...only to squeeze that trigger and end his own life two hours later.

I'm thinking about angels today.

I don't understand them, but I'm thinking about angels.

Can you blame me?

Wednesday, July 23, 2003

IT'S ONLY

It's only p.u.

The aroma controversy is over at the office. I finally had to send an email to the office manager asking if she happened to notice that everyone on the second floor smelled like they'd been visiting an opium den and she "spoke" to the newly indoctrinated aroma therapy convert responsible. He apparently took offense when she said someone referred to the reek as "industrial vanilla."

She quoted me his response today, "It's only a fragrance...and besides it's cinnamon!"

What do I know?

In any case he agreed to take his candle and aroma beads home "where they would be appreciated."

I appreciate that.

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It's only money

Ever buy a pair of flip flops? You know those cheap rubbery sandals with the thing that fits between your toes that takes 3 weeks to get used to and breaks after 4 weeks? What did you pay for them?

You obviously got a bargain.

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It's only what?

You know what I hate about the Kobe Bryant story (besides the fact that I have to filter out the innuendo, speculation, spin, and rumor from the "news" everyday)? I hate the fact that I keep hearing people say, "I hope it's only adultery."

Psalm 106:36

They worshiped their idols, which became a snare to them.

And it's only Wednesday.....

Tuesday, July 22, 2003

THE SONS

So Saddam Hussein's sons are dead. I wonder how long it will be before we see video of them from Arab TV and then commentary from Dan Rather saying "there's no way to determine when this video was shot but it could disprove U.S. claims that they were killed on July 22nd."

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AND THE STARS

Speaking of inexact science, may I present: "Star counting".



I love this story. First off, I didn't know there was a number "sextillion" (it sounds more like the title of a cheesy b-movie involving scantily clad women and lizards), but what really intrigued me was the final part of the story where this astronomer unabashedly says this is only an estimate of the stars we can see: "The real number could be much, much larger still -- some people think it is infinite," he said.

SAN ANTONIO (ANS) -- A South Texas homeowner claimed Tuesday to have completed the most accurate calculation ever of how many blades of grass are visible in his own back yard.....

I like news stories like this because they glaringly point out how we fall far short of being "all knowing", especially when it comes to the intricacy and immensity of the universe.

I knew that...but it doesn't hurt to be reminded.
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Don't lose your head when you read this story. If you have a weak stomach or a high level of disbelief you may not want to read it at all
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P.S. If you don't read Scrappleface you are missing out on some of the most timely and witty satire on the web.

Monday, July 21, 2003

IT RINGS TRUE




I just slipped my wedding ring on. I took the ring off on Saturday.

I somehow banged my ring finger while doing something manly...okay I think I did it while culling some of my clothes from our closet. In any case the finger started to hurt, then swell and I had to remove the ring in order to avoid the prospect of having both the ring and my finger surgically removed.

It wasn't easy. It hurt to pull that ring off.

It would hurt even if my finger weren't swollen....I'm glad of that.

Ruth 1:16
Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.

Sunday, July 20, 2003

FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH

Our two West Highland Terrorists are instinctively possessive. They will both go out of their way to try to 'stash' food. Usually this constitutes covering up their food bowls with sticks, leaves and other debris. They'll often go so far as to push their bowls across the patio to places they presumably deem as secret and safe. When Winston, our special needs dog, becomes greedy in this way he is often betrayed by the nose on his face..



This morning I observed this ritual of avarice and thought how I have been similarly guilty. The end result has been the same.

I have sullied myself coveting the mundane.

The true treasures in my life gain value only when shared.

Matthew 6:21


For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.