A Singer, A Song

I can’t believe my four year old drew this! 

“Look daddy — it’s a picture for you. It’s of your student Miss Melissa who came over to play Wii with us.”

Jaw: drop.

Do you still buy your tax software at Staples? Or worse yet, do you actually do your taxes by hand? Bleah!

If so, you definitely need to learn about TurboTax.com. My Federal and State taxes each year are done in about an hour’s time, and the site “remembers” you from year to year, making subsquent years’ taxes that much easier.

Get with the program already!

Every time my brother sends a message with an attachment to my Gmail account, the attachment comes across as ‘noname’ and can’t be opened. This has gone on for literally months — maybe years. I’ve written to the GMail team more than once asking, “When are you guys going to get this fixed?” No response. The post on their support site says “This is a known issue, and our engineers are working to resolve it as quickly as possible.” Yeah, right: that post was last updated in May, 2007. Not sure that qualifies as “as quickly as possible,” guys.

So today I’m noodling around in Gmail and see a link to the Official Gmail Blog with some helpful information. I click and read. Good stuff. Then my eye spies a Search box in the upper-right-hand corner (”Powered by Google!” it crows). “Aha!” I think to myself, “Maybe this site has a clue as to what’s up with the ‘noname’ bug!” I enter my search term — “noname” — and click the Search button.

Nothing happens. No hits.

I try again. (You know: “Maybe I didn’t click the button,” or “Maybe my eyes missed something.”)

Nothing. The page doesn’t change.

I try a different search term, “forward.” A raft of returned search results display.

I try another search term, “archive.” Bingo — lots of hits.

I try “noname” again, and the page reverts to the original “no hits” view. At first I thought there must be some conspiracy afoot — some evil little piece of code lurking in the background, waiting for someone like me to search for “noname” so that it could taunt me with nothingness — and then I searched for “gleaming aspic” and got bupkis with that, too. So my conspiracy theory was shot.

Still… what’s going on, Gmail? And what about you other Gmail users out there? I’m having a hard time believing no one else but me on the planet is having trouble with this same thing. I run into this problem on nearly a daily basis. How can it be that it’s taking your team so long to fix this problem?

Other features are great. I love them. More space is wonderful. I’ll use it. But don’t you think you should first fix existing problems before rolling out enhancements?

C’mon, Gmail team. I mean… c’mon already!

From Foundmagazine.com today: 

http://www.kongregate.com/games/DrNeroCF/fancy-pants-adventure-world-2

So how much would you pay for a sure-shot method for curing that cold you just caught? How much would you shell out to avoid the days upon days of dripping, sniffing, blowing, coughing, and of feeling like you’ve got wool socks stuffed into your skull? I’ve got the answer that the world’s been waiting for. I am absolutely, utterly convinced that I know how to beat the common cold. I’m not talking about symptom-masking drugs that that make you feel like you’re enjoying an IV tranquilizer drip, sprays that turn your sinuses into chemical-encrusted wastelands or tiny time capsules that give the remarkable impression that gravity is just slightly on the fritz today. I’m talking about a genuine cure… and for less than $15.00.

A couple of weeks ago, Camille and Gavin came down with something awful. They had the aches, were wrung out, had terrible congestion… the whole nine yards. As soon as I knew the bug was in our house, I started the magical regimen I’m about to divulge. Then this past Thursday afternoon I started feeling that awful back-of-the-throat tickle — that sense that something rotten is about to take your sinuses hostage for the next 10-12 days — and just as soon as I got home, I started dosing myself with my magical concoction. Here it is, Friday evening, just a few more than 24 hours later and I don’t feel as though I have a cold AT ALL.

So I’m convinced that I’ve got it figured out. And because I’m such a nice guy, I’m going to share it with the world at large.

Ingredients:

• Zicam (I always use the nasal gel)
• Target brand Immunity Dietary supplement (couldn’t find a link; see the picture above left)
  

As important as the above two ingredients are, I’m convinced that following these steps is just about as important:

1. You must have the above two items on hand before the cold hits. If you don’t, then break both legs and get three speeding tickets beating a path to your local Target.
2. Dose yourself with both at the very first hint of onset. Do it immediately.
3. Dose yourself with both every four hours without fail.
4. Continue with both for at least 24 hours after you start feeling better.

And that’s about it. Because I’m such a humble, self-effacing philanthropist, I’m refusing all interviews with the media for the time being. But do please check back here in a couple of days for the PayPal donations link I’m going to post.

Death to the common cold!

STOP CALLING ME!

This post serves as notice to all of the idiotic political campaigners that keep calling me at all hours of the day: if you ring my phone, I’m not voting for you. In fact, I’m going to campaign against you. I don’t care if you’re my demographic’s favorite candidate. I don’t care if you’re going to dismember the IRS. I don’t care if the Apostle Paul himself has endorsed your platform, I’m not voting for you because you won’t leave me alone.

Quit calling me. Quit it. QUIT IT.

QUIT!

With all of the other life changes we’ve encountered over the past six months (wow! could it only be six months?), Camille and I have decided that it’s time for us to start looking for a new church to unite with. We’ve loved our years at Heritage Bible Church, but recent events have made it clear that it’s time for us to move on. We’ve sort of been taking a “sabbattical” since October, so the start of the New Year was a good time for us to step out in a new direction.

We started that process by visiting Blue Ridge Presbyterian Church in Greer, a small PCA church whose attendance yesterday was around 85 in the main service. We were (of course) welcomed warmly when we walked in the door. The service began with hymns and scripture, a Psalm, the affirmation of the Nicene Creed, and a beautiful, new (to me) song, “From the Squalor of a Borrowed Stable” by Stuart Townend.

Right away Camille and I saw that something was right. The Scripture reading for the morning was from Galatians 3:1-14 (*ahem* and *ahem*). When the pastor stood at the pulpit and began speaking, nearly the first thing out of his mouth was Eugene Peterson’s introduction to the book of Galatians in The Message:

When men and women get their hands on religion, one of the first things they often do is turn it into an instrument for controlling others, either putting or keeping them “in their place.” The history of such religious manipulation and coercion is long and tedious. It is little wonder that people who have only known religion on such terms experience release or escape from it as freedom. The problem is that the freedom turns out to be short-lived.

Paul of Tarsus was doing his diligent best to add yet another chapter to this dreary history when he was converted by Jesus to something radically and entirely different - a free life in God. Through Jesus, Paul learned that God was not an impersonal force to be used to make people behave in certain prescribed ways, but a personal Savior who set us free to live a free life. God did not coerce us from without, but set us free from within.

It was a glorious experience, and Paul set off telling others, introducing and inviting everyone he met into this free life. In his early travels he founded a series of churches in the Roman province of Galatia. A few years later Paul learned that religious leaders of the old school had come into those churches, called his views and authority into question, and were reintroducing the old ways, herding all these freedom-loving Christians back into the corral of religious rules and regulations.

Paul was, of course, furious. He was furious with the old guard for coming in with their strong-arm religious tactics and intimidating the Christians into giving up their free life in Jesus. But he was also furious with the Christians for caving in to the intimidation.

His letter to the Galatian churches helps them, and us, to recover the original freedom. It also gives direction in the nature of God’s gift of freedom - most necessary guidance, for freedom is a delicate and subtle gift, easily perverted and often squandered.”

I’m convinced that God put Sunday’s message into the pastor’s mouth for me. For us to find this kind of bald-faced validation our first Sunday out was absolutely surreal. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I know that Camille felt the same way.

I sat there realizing afresh, “This is what the Gospel does when it’s given free rein. It runs rampant in the heart of the believer, enfolding the church body, freeing people to live their lives with clarity before God. It’s not about our ability (our inability) to live perfectly. It’s not about us controlling one another. It’s about the freedom to live within the wide expanse of God’s all-encompassing love.”

The Christian life is not about being fenced in. It’s not about living inside man-made constraints. It’s about a lifespring of love for Christ that manifests itself in a life that glorifies Him at every turn.

It’s a life Outside the Gates.

Often when people ask Camille or me about our resignations from BJU, they’ll say with a puzzled tone, “Why would you leave when things are getting so much better? I hear that things are improving under the new administration.” I can very much appreciate the wish for things to get better. I believe that things CAN get better (though whether or not they actually will is another story). But those Outside the Gates can’t really appreciate what life is like Inside the Gates.

When we were there, we saw some of the rules and regulations become less stringent — like ties for men and hose for women (and now facial hair for male employees). That’s all well and good, but these relaxations are an unfortunate distraction from the real problem. The trend we were trying to warn against did not entail these small-minded things but rather larger theological perspectives that indicated a much more insidious kind of misdirection. We were trying to get the administration to reassess those foundational struts that have recently become wobbly: mistaken perspectives that deal with works righteousness, fundamental misunderstandings of sanctification, an atmosphere of man’s all-consuming control that wrest from the believer the joy of learning the Holy Spirit’s leading. Which is more important: students who can conscience going to the mall without hose on their legs, or students who understand that God’s righteousness (and not their own goodness) is their life and breath, their all-sufficiency, their joy and hope?

You can choose to believe me or not. Now that I’m on the outside like many of you, what do I know, right? Maybe a current student’s words will help you to understand what I’m talking about.

Unfortunately, the opening meetings this week are pretty discouraging. Could I please hear something about the Grace that flows from the Cross and a little less about how badly God wants to sit back and watch me strive myself to death trying to get sanctified? And I sure hope I “end up” in God’s will, since He’s evidently not going to be very glorified if I blow it…. I’m not hearing about the gospel or the God that I see in Scripture.

I’m beginning to see that fundamentalism isn’t just wrong, it’s frightening….

Matthew 7:26: “But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.”

Okay, I’m sitting here in the living room. Mommy and Gavin are in the next room. Gavin has a little plastic play figure whose name I don’t know. (I think it may be one of Spiderman’s many and varied nemeses.)

Gavin: “Hmmm. Idida. Mama? Ika.”

Mommy: “Really?”

Gavin: “Mama? Ika. Ibah.”

Mommy: “This.”

Gavin: “Hmmmm. Ow. Ow! Whee. Uh-oh. Maaa. Wheee! Wow.”

[pause]

Gavin: “Ow. OW! Mama? OWWW!”

Mommy: “Did he bite you, Gavin? Oh, I’m sorry.”

Mommy [talking to little plastic figure]: “Little Bubble Man, that’s not kind. You’ll need to sit here and be calm until you’re ready to say ‘I’m sorry’ to Gavin.”

Adorable.