Sojourning Pilgrim: August 2005

Needing perspective capacity

I was watching the news a few minutes ago, and Brian Williams said, "As Americans get their minds around the scope of this tragedy . . ."

I must confess - I'm having difficulty getting my mind around what Katrina has done. I think it's "disaster overload" - I have lived through disaster after disaster, and at the moment, this seems like just one more. I know that isn't the right attitude to possess - there are hundreds of thousands of people in need in a neighboring state to which it would take me 15 to 18 hours to travel. I'm overwhelmed with thoughts - what would I do, how would I get there, would my help be what they needed, who would do my work while I'm gone - there are a hundred other questions.

So, my first prayer is this one - Lord, help me to know how to pray. Then help me know what to do.

an arm and a leg . . .

I paid $2.829 for gas this morning, and was glad to get it for that price.

How 'bout you - what did you pay??

A New, New Testament

On kinda a roll here . . .

I spoke with Tracy this morning. She had a pretty good sermon this week - check it out. Anyway, she asked me the question that she asks me every week - way too early in the week - "What ya gonna do Sunday?" I never know the answer to that question on Monday. She's interested in the gospel for this week, but I did that last time around (I think). I gave her my two cents on "future perfect pharaphrastic" tense for Matthew 17, and she seemed duly unimpressed. Then I noticed the Romans text - that's where I'll be headed this week.

I'm always on the lookout for bloggable material - and this is where she made her mistake. She said, "I'm ready for a new bible - running out of things to say about this one." (I'm sure that's not a completely accurate quote - and I'll probably hear from her on this one) I've heard, and thought, that very thing before. I'm pushing 50, and I've heard all these stories. What's hard for me to remember is that everyone else hasn't heard all these stories. So, I still have a job . . .

But it gets you to thinking - what if Jesus really did want to tell us something new? Oh, I know that some others think He already did, but I don't really buy it. But what if He did want to tell us something new? What would He say, and how would he get us to put it down on paper? Tim, I want to hear from you on this one!!

By the way - sister Tracy puts her two cents in for a New, Old Testament - she really likes those kind of stories!!

Reaching the entire globe in our time . . .

A couple of weeks ago, I put one of those site meters on my blogs. Cool stuff. It really doesn't tell me all that much, but it does tell where they come from - city and location - how many hits a day - that kind of thing. This morning, I was checking in - just to see who's reading my stuff - and I have a hit from Australia and Japan. I've already had one from England and Canada. Pretty cool stuff. So now, I've had hits from 4 of the 7 continents. Wonder if I'll ever get a hit from Antartica??

Then I had this conversation with a friend who works for Youth for Christ International - she is rather global, having responsibility for that ministry in "the Americas." We got into a discussion on the "emerging church" - I confess, I have been reading enough to be vaguely conversant on the subject, but I'd like to know more. Who have you good folks been reading on the emerging church?

I am realizing more and more that there is a ministry out there through this medium - and I love it.

O ye of little faith . . .

I'm just full of things to say this evening . . .

This morning our Church Accompanist was ill, and that always throws me a little - having to scramble to get things covered. She is so very talented, and frankly her leadership from the keyboard makes our service of worship what it is each week. She sight reads remarkably well, and again, her leadership helps our choir be all they can be - and they are terrific.

This morning, when she called in sick, I immediately determined that we would not be able to do the choir special. Then we got into the rehearsal room, and one of the choir members said, "Do you think we could sing it a capella?" I didn't think so, and then another of them said, "Well, let's at least run through it to see!" So we did - and they were terrific. Frankly sounded like a piece we hadn't performed before - new music.

One of the things that is the most remarkable things about our church is that this group of people is led by a pastor who is not what you would describe as a man of "profound faith." Most often, the people who surround me express far more faith than I do - they are the real warriors. I play the role of skeptic far too often - and they always, always respond with encouraging grace.

God, through Paul, said that God places the members of the body in the body, just as God desires. I'm glad . . .

Cornerstone

This is my 50th post - yeah. So, to celebrate . . . . I talk about the church so much, I thought you might like to see a picture of the building. I can't show you the church - they are rather scattered, except for Sunday morning.

I like our little building. It originally was a Wesleyan building, then an Hispanic congregation worshipped there for a little while. We have been in this location for the entire time we have been a church - just over seven years, now. In all that time, we've never had to cancel morning services, so with a little calculation, this morning was Cornerstone Morning Worship # 373. That's hard to imagine.

I'll point out two or three things. You'll notice the marquee - we've been a little famous for putting stuff on the marquee that makes you go "hmmmm." Don't you love the grass - we work at it - this summer, we work at it a lot. Our folks still take turns keeping the lawn. There are three crosses - one on the side of the building, just beside the "Jesus Saves" sign - that's a little reminicent of Dr. Gene Scott in Los Angeles, don't you think?? - one on the "chimney/steeple" - and the one in the lawn, surrounded by flowers. There are even more crosses inside - frankly, we probably have too many crosses. And then, notice the "BRAND NEW PARKING LOT" - who knew people could get so excited about concrete.

If you are ever in Enid and need a place to worship, we are located at 501 S. Cleveland. That's just half a block north of the intersection of Garriott (Hwy 412) and Cleveland - we really are at about the geographic center of town.

You will be welcomed by loving people.

4 months

I actually started this blog just before Father's Day as a place in which I could put down on paper some of the things I was thinking after my Dad's death this spring. Tomorrow, it will be 4 months.

In three weeks we will pass his birthday - there will be no celebration. Then it will soon be six months, then Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter next spring. Each event will be a milestone - the first without Dad - and I only really feel one thing for sure. Things have changed for me.

Things aren't worse - except in the sense of missing him and wanting to be able to talk to him. Life is pretty much the same otherwise. But things have changed. For the time being, I have less patience - time seems to be clicking off at a faster clip. There isn't really any more urgency - just less patience. I have less patience for people's games. I have less patience for non-commitments. Strangely, I have less patience for impatience. Figure that one out . . .

This has been the year that friends my age have been losing their parents - at present count, I think six of my friends have lost a parent - and that's just in the last 4 months. That's when I started taking notice - when I started counting.

That's when things changed . . .

from on top of the roof . . .

We had an awfully good work crew out at the Habitat site this morning. I got there around 6:45, and we were able to put a crew to work by 7. By the time it was all said and done, I believe 15 or 16 had stopped by to work - most of them for better than 5 hours. We decked the roof, and felted about half the house - not bad, considering the heat after 9:30. It sure looked good from up there on the roof.

Habitat is a wonderful ministry. This is home #7 for me - and we're getting better at making things work. Most of the summer has been a drag - we've had a lot of difficulty getting larger groups out to the site. But this morning re-proved why groups work better. We got a lot of work done in a relatively short amount of time. You walk away from these events with a really good, tired feeling.

There is always more to do - we have two houses in process right now. There are families to find for the houses, groups to be recruited, monies to be raised - never a shortage of things to do. But I think this ministry has me hooked - for life.

They just don't get it . . .

Inane. Arrogant. Presumtuous. Ignorant. Insidious. Weasel.

I've never watched his show all the way through - I simply can't - he eventually says something that nauseates me. But yesterday, Pat Robertson went way too far!!!

The myriad of ways he went too far is staggering. He went too far politically. He went too far as one who influences thousands. He went too far as a human being.

But mostly, he went too far as a spokesman for the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Shame on you, Pat. All of us have thought those kind of things before - that these wars are a waste, and that covert operations would be a more efficient way to do the business of protection of our wonderful country. Those of us who are Americans, and at the same time, Christians - we have thought those things. And then, before we opened our mouths, we have taken a step back to examine both the constitution of our country and the words of Christ. We have recognized that both have merit for our lives, but as citizens of a divine kingdom, we submit to that authority above all others. We take a step back from our thoughts, repent of our sinful ways, and then keep our mouths shut. We don't blurt out everything we think - we try to use language that furthers the kingdom of God, even while we support our great nation.

I don't blame Robertson completely, mind you - its the nature of fundamentalism. They just don't get it - most fundamentalists in this country today don't see any difference between being an American and being a Christian - they conceive of the two as synonymous. And they are wrong. They fail to read all of what God said to us through Paul in the 13th chapter of Romans. They fail to listen to the heart of the teachings of Christ. They refuse to consider that from time to time, they just might be wrong. The typical fundamentalist mind - "I think, therefore I am right. I am American, therefore I am Christian. Do unto others before they do unto you." Wrong, wrong, wrong.

What grieves me is that there are people out there in our country who listen to what people like Robertson say, and assume that what he teaches is Christian teaching. And since they believe that kind of rhetoric, they seriously believe that they are followers of Christ.

What scares me is that some of those people once voted for him for president . . .

Who'd a thunk it?

Our church is wonderful. Intimate, friendly, pleasant. This group of people is concerned with several things that are extremely important - making people feel as comfortable in worship as possible, encouraging everyone in our congregation to find and express their own voice, and making room for people who are looking for a place to worship.

We had a little business meeting last night - our's are never like the business meetings you've been to in other Baptist churches - anyway, we had felt a need for some time to reorganize ourselves a bit - the same people had been serving on the same teams for more than several years. So, we mixed things up a bit - and one of the things we did was take a look at how we can develop a ministry link in cyberspace. So, as far as I know, we are the only church in town who has a "cyberspace" team.

Now, I'm going to ask for some audience participation. One of the reasons we did this was because we realize that much of the traffic in cyberspace comes from voices and keyboards of people who, on average, are much younger than we are. We were younger 7 years ago when we started, but . . . Anyway, we are coming to realize that we want to minister with younger generations, and, well, quite frankly, we don't know their language very well. There is something about our church that has not proven to be attractive to very many who are under 35. We don't want our church to be a one generational congregation, and so, we are going to start listening to younger voices in an effort to determine how we can minister to their needs and create a place where they can minister out of their gifts.

So, I'm asking - if you have input, I'd love to hear it.

Adult Supervision Needed . . .

"Hey, Doc!! What's that smell??"

"What smell?" (There are lots of smells when guys are out on a boat)

"You don't smell that?"

"No, I don't smell anything." (I was up-wind of him)

"Hey, Doc - we've got a fire back here!!!"

Believe me - this is not the conversation you want to have when you're in the middle of Canton Lake.

We had already fished the dam. Travis fished with us for a little while, and then we sent him packing with Lynn - Gary and I had manuevered the boat into deeper water, had let down the submergible light, and were settling back for our dinner of cheeseburgers and something to drink. Then he noticed that one of our fishing bags was inadvertantly placed on top of the wire that ran from the battery terminals to the submerged light, and there was smoke. Indeed, we had a little fire in the compartment that houses the batteries and the gas tank. Thankfully, when we opened the hatch to the compartment, the wind snuffed out the flame. We sat back to consider our good fortune for a moment or two - then we spliced the remaining wire to the alligator clips, re-sumberged the light, and continued fishing.

I now have a snake-like burn mark in the carpet toward the back of the boat. Live and learn!! It does make for a good story. But it brings to mind the fact that we have had more than one accident out there this summer, which then begs the question -

maybe we need a little adult supervision??

BTW - the fishing was terrible.

sometimes we just pray . . .

I guess we're just getting to that age . . .

My Dad died in April. Since just a week before that, I have helped three friends bury a parent. Now I have another set of friends who have lost parents.

I have some friends here in Enid who are in the midst of more loss and tragedy than any one family should suffer. Yesterday, they buried the husband's father. Just before the funeral, the wife's father passed away. And last week, the wife's sister was in an accident, and she is in a coma - prognosis actually not very good.

I have another friend whose ex-husband and father of her sons is struggling to recover from a second heart surgery. He has diabetes, and his prognosis is still critical.

Sometimes, when our friends hurt and we can't do for them what we would like to do, we just pray.

I ask you to pray for these two families. My prayer request for you is specific - I ask that you pray for comfort from our God, and peace in the midst of upheaval. In one case, I ask you to pray for healing.

Simply, sometimes we just pray.

lazy day musings

Thursday is supposed to be my day off. About three years ago, I really integrated into community service activities - boards and committees and that kind of stuff - and so a regular day off has rather gone by the wayside. Instead, I have settled into a more haphazard work schedule - more or less putting in some time every day at the office, and catching opportunities to do yard work and take the boat to the lake when opportunity presents itself. Not complaining, mind you - there is a degree to which this is personal choice. For the most part, Thursday remains a lazier day than most.

Now, for some fun. Maybe it's part of the way that I'm dealing with Dad's death, but I find I want to laugh at death a little right now. And the way that need/want is manifesting itself is seeing humor in the funeral home and cemetary industry. I mentioned one the other day - I saw a "Yard Sale" sign affixed right beside one of the local cemetaries. I guess you really don't take it with you!! I stopped in on some other business just yesterday at another of our local cemetaries - they have recently installed a crematory (a first for Enid) - and I noticed that the owner also keeps a chimenea and pinon wood in the same room. Hmmmm!! Then this morning, I noticed a mobile home parked out back of another of our local funeral homes. Makes you kinda wonder who's going where, and who they're taking with them. Will there be camping fees??

School started today for our locals. There is change in the air - and I notice this fall that the change of fall is perhaps the most abrupt change we endure - school, that first cold snap, rapidly fading daylight hours, a renewal of busy energies going a multitude of directions, High School football. We ease into winter, spring, and summer - but fall arrives with an announcement, and then settles into a wonderful season.

Enjoy the day, and thank God for it.

When there's nothing you want to say . . .

So, my sister said this afternoon, "You haven't blogged in dayyyyyys!!!" To which I said, "I don't have anything to say." To which she said, "You always have something to say!" To which I said, "I don't have anything to say that I would want to put on paper or out there in cyberspace." We agreed that it's a wierd world where we are sometimes just blank pages - we have ink, we have paper, but putting the ink on the paper is tough.

Truth of the matter is - I probably have some things to say, but they fall into one of several categories. They are either (1) things that everyone else is already saying, and doing a better job of it than I would, thank you, (2) things that probably shouldn't be said outloud, on account of the pain others might experience as a result, (3) things that are simmering and will be better stated when the soup is poured, or (4) mindless.

So, when in doubt, send an e-mail. One of my parishoners sent this little ditty, via e-mail. It made me smile. Maybe it will make you smile as well.

Subject: 22 Lines to Make you Smile

1. My husband and I divorced over religious differences. He thought he was God and I didn't.
2. I Work Hard Because Millions On Welfare Depend on Me!
3. Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.
4. I used to have a handle on life, but it broke.
5. Don't take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.
6. You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me
7. Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
8. I'm not a complete idiot -- Some parts are just missing.
9. Out of my mind. Back in five minutes.
10. NyQuil, the stuffy, sneezy, why-the-heck-is-the-room-spinning medicine.
11. God must love stupid people; He made so many.
12. The gene pool could use a little chlorine.
13. Consciousness: That annoying time between naps.
14. Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
15. Being "over the hill" is much better than being under it!
16. Wrinkled Was Not One of the Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew up.
17. Procrastinate Now!
18. I Have a Degree in Liberal Arts; Do You Want Fries With That?
19. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
20. Stupidity is not a handicap. Park elsewhere!
21. The trouble with life is there's no background music.
22. The original point and click tool was a Smith and Wesson.

Finally, the picture . . .

Four things I notice immediately about this picture. First, there's a fat man in the picture. He seems to be following me. Two, please ignore the swimming shorts bunching up from the bottom. Three, ignore the weeds in the garden, as well. Four, sorry about the hat shadow - but frankly, the fat man looks better that way.

Thanks to John for staying with me until we got a picture small enough for blogger to upload.

Late night musings

First things first - it's my Mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom!!! (I did send a card)

I've got to get a digital camera . . . on my way to the Habitat site this morning, I passed the old Enid Cemetary, and someone had placed a "Yard Sale" sign right there on the corner. I laughed for miles and hours.

I couldn't be more proud of my little church. Today, I had a couple of my men show at the Habitat site to help us do some prep work for the big workday in a couple of weeks. They were up and at 'em at 7:00 in the a.m.

Then about ten of us helped move a couple from apartment to their new home. Both of these wonderful people are blind - I am constantly amazed at the independence of visually impaired folks. Anyway, four pick-up trucks, two loads each, and the job was done in less than 3 hours. Kudos to the movers. People talk about the advantages of a larger church, but the community I find in this small congregation of real people is astounding.

If you haven't already read Tim Youman's post from today, move your mouse as quickly as possible for some of the funniest stuff on the net. Real life is oh, so funny, don't you know.

We've had wonderful, beautiful rain this evening. Such a relief.

Good Lord's Day to you all tomorrow. I'll post the sermon when I finish it in a little while.

IT'S HERE !!!!!!!!

I hope I get some work done this afternoon - my first copy (in a long time) of the Wittenburg Door (Christian satire magazine) just arrived. Their 200th issue!! Back when I subscribed to this "rag" some years ago, I would lose myself in it for the day. We'll see . . .

paradox

You'd think by this time in my life - especially in the life of a Baptist preacher - that I would have some of the basics nailed down in terms of theological thought. Fact of the matter is, they were more nailed down when I was younger. It seems that life has a way of informing my thinking on some things - and yes, I know the dangers inherent in that reality.

Now, I'm mixing a couple of places of personal thought at this juncture - I'm watching the sermon simmer in my mind, and I'm still reeling from that wonderful performance of Bach/Gounod last night by some mentally handicapped adults in our community. Bear with me as my thoughts ramble - through my brain, and on this page.

You'd think by this time in my journey, I'd be confident on the point of whom God will save. I have come to grips with the concept that whoever is saved, God is the One Who does the saving. We can't save ourselves. I have a pastor friend, who when presented with the question "Pastor, don't you think pretty much everyone will ultimately be saved?", responds with the answer, "When it comes to that question, I find that I must separate my hope from my belief. My hope is that God will indeed save everyone - but my belief is that there's more to it than that." Generally, that's where I fall on the theological scale - I suspect that there's more to it than that, and that at least part of the equation involves some response on our part to the love of God.

But then, this week, I am confronted by two ideas. One of them, the actual words of the Apostle Paul - Romans 11:32, where he says, "For God has shut up all in disobedience that He might show mercy to all." Paul says "all." So part of the question hinges upon what your definition of "all" is. The other part of that question hinges upon what your definition of "shows mercy" is. That's the first of the ideas - Paul's words. The second idea swimming around in my head is these handicapped adults - I know a handicapped adult real well - my 25 year old son - who, when he was about 18, made as much of a uncoerced decision as he is able to make to express belief in Jesus - to the point that we actually baptized him as an expression of his faith. It was what he wanted to do. So, the question always for me hinges on our capacity to know the mind of God, married to our capacity to know our own minds. I know the easy answer - we formerly knew the concept as "the age of accountability," and it suggested that God protects fools and children - until they reach the "cognitive age" at which they are able to viably respond to God. This day, I have some question about that theory. Tomorrow, perhaps not. But today, I have questions . . .

This day, in addition to my hope, I think that God has a wider tent of mercy than any of us suspect. This day, I more or less side with my friend Robert Capon, who suggests that God's mercy will save everyone, save those few who willfully demand that they will have nothing to do with the love of God. I know that my thoughts do not influence the eternal mind of God on the matter, but that is where my temporal mind resides this day.

The Rehearsal

I don't suspect that Johann Sebastian Bach and Charles Gounod had any idea that angels would perform their music this evening.

I had just finished up our Habitat board meeting this evening, and I looked up to see my daughter standing there - in the Episcopal church!! I knew immediately that she was there on Music Therapy business. She asked me to stay - and I did.

Seven angels - each of whom lives with a significant mental handicap - filed into the sanctuary at St. Matthew's, and took their places behind the handbell tables. Their conductor, Elizabeth reminded them to put on their white gloves, which they did. My daughter was at the piano. Elizabeth reminded them to wait to lift their handbells to the playing position as a group - in a single motion. That part could still use some work.

Then the music began. I did a degree in Music Education from Baylor. I have sung in some tremendous choirs. I have had the privilege to listen to some of the most talented groups of people in the world perform some of the most magnificant music ever penned. I am currently the president of our local symphony association - but this . . . this was the most beautiful music I have ever heard.

I suspect that Bach and Gounod expected talented, sophisticated people to play this music. These angels tonight are really neither. One rocked back and forth in the manner of those with autism. Two or three more or less stared out in space - seemingly oblivious, but obviously tuned into exactly what their role was in making this most beautiful music. They have learned, and music works its magic in their souls. You could tell that what was going on was a holy moment . . .

I am so very proud of Chelsea for her chosen profession. She was raised as the younger sibling to a mentally handicapped brother (who really loves music), and she has a significant heart for this sort of "ministry." This is what God put her on this earth for - to minister the music of all souls to the souls of those who are different - as well as to the souls of those who are in need and hurting.

I love music. Tonight, I love the music of life - made by all of God's children . . .

I promised you a picture

I have one of my good friends on the task - they took the picture, but we are having a hard time getting it in a file that is small enough (I suspect) for blogger to upload. So, until then, you'll have to do with another fishing story. (If you are squeemish, you might want to check in another day.)

Friend Gary and I went out to Canton on Tuesday night. Arrived at 5:45 pm (we don't get up early for fishing), transferred everything from the truck to the boat, were ready to launch, and "yeowwww" - Gary embedded a hook in one of his fingers. From my rod set up. I cut the line, and then we found needle nose pliers and clipped the lure from the hook. But it was really in there - to the point that he wasn't going to be able to back it out - on account of the barb. So . . . the choice was to push it through. Trouble was - it hadn't broken through the skin on the other side yet. We deadened it with a little ice, and then he got started. I was of little help. It took about ten minutes - this was ginger stuff, don't you know. Slowly, oh so very slowly, he curled the hook so that it peeked through the skin in another location, and then he was able to grasp the pointed end and pull it out. It reminded me of the scene in Lonesome Dove where Augustus has P.I. push the arrows through his knee - Robert Duvall deserved some kind of lifetime achievement award for his acting in that scene. Anyway, Gary is my new tough guy hero.

Then we caught 25 fish.

adieu . . .

The New York Times article this morning referred to Peter Jennings, Tom Brokaw, and Dan Rather as "bookends" which indicated which stories were really important over the last 30 years. Personally, I watched Brokaw mostly - but occasionally, I would flip over to Jennings, especially if there was an international element to the story that was being broadcast. He was the better of the "big three" when it came to the international stories.

This morning, I don't so much miss Peter Jennings as I miss another stage of my life. I have watched these guys since I was in High School, or at least since I was in college. They were there the nights my children were born, and they told the story of living through Hurricane Alicia when we rode it out in Houston that night, and they narrated our feelings during the shuttle disasters and the assassination attempts and the funerals and Baby Jessica and 911 and all of the election nights - in short, they were the ones that reported the climaxes and the disasters that seem to punctuate our lives with such increasing regularity. Often, I would choke up a little myself when I would catch Brokaw with a hint of a tear in his eye as he mused at the conclusion of a really poingnant human interest story. I miss that.

Maybe in time I'll come to appreciate the ones who have taken their places. But my larger fear is that these will be the guys who are on the tube the night I pass from this earth. My only greater fear is that I'll have to go through this kind of transition once more in my life - obviously a sign of "codgerism."

the anticipation

Most weeks, Saturday night offers opportunity for quiet reflection in my office. I go over my sermon a couple of times, read over e-mails, turn on the air for tomorrow (most weeks I remember), and just veg a little before the sabbath. Sunday is not my time - it belongs to others. But Saturday night . . .

Tonight is quieter than usual - a sense of anticipation. No one else would ever notice it - but there is something present here tonight. Every day is a gift of God, but Sunday is a day we give back, and I anticipate tomorrow and the task of helping others worship God. It is a huge responsibility - one that I've been at for just over seven years as pastor in this post - and 30 years as of this fall, in some other roles in other places.

I wish what I was saying at this moment was more profound - but I just sense anticipation - and it weighs heavy tonight.

Where ya'll from . . .

There's some cute tests that come across in the e-mail from time to time. You might like to take this pronunciation test - I scored "86% (Dixie). Do you still use Confederate money?"

I miss my Dad tonight . . .

Kudos to Gary

I'm trying to get in a little more fishing this month - my boat was wondering where I was during the month of July.

Last night, friend Gary and I were fishing. I had a brand new reel, secured to a new rod. We were drifting along the west wall at Canton Lake, and so I decided to trail a lure behind us in the hope of catching a walleye. About three minutes after I tossed the lure out, we heard a loud bump, and my rod and reel were gone. I assumed it has snagged on the bottom, and so we hurriedly turned around to attempt a rescue.

We anchored just about where the "accident" happened, rigged a pole each with something that could drag the bottom, and then started casting. 10 minutes passed, and nothing. A new, $50 reel, sunk on the first outing. Gary suggested that we re-rig and troll back and forth a few times. I was getting a little frustrated at "wasting" our fishing time trying to compensate for my stupidity, but I followed his advice. On the third pass through the area, Gary hooked what he thought was a rather large fish. He was right, but his line slid up another line, and voila . . . my rod and reel. And there was a fish on the lure. A large drum - we didn't keep him.

So, kudos to Gary for his knowledge, his tenacity and his casting ability.

He did enjoy kidding me about the whole matter for the rest of the evening. But, as I am constantly learning, that's true friendship . . . I would do the same for him - in all respects. . .

Forming an opinion on John Bolton

Sojourning through the news today, there's a lot of stuff out there in cyberspace. This morning, a lot of it has to do with our new Ambassador to the U.N., John Bolton.

Fact - Bolton's nomination did not receive confirmation from the Senate.
Fact - George W. Bush used his ability to exercise a "recess" appointment to send Bolton to the U.N.
Opinion - pretty much everything else that can be said on the matter.

In an effort to help my vast bastion of readers form an opinion, I am linking you to what I consider to be:
1. A conservation opinion,
2. A more moderate opinion,
3. A liberal/progressive opinion (by the way, I do not consider "liberal" a bad word).

I do have my opinion on the matter. I will share another opinion - about opinions. Whatever your opinion, you should at least know what others think.

Sojourning Pilgrim

31 August 2005

Needing perspective capacity

an arm and a leg . . .

29 August 2005

A New, New Testament

Reaching the entire globe in our time . . .

28 August 2005

O ye of little faith . . .

Cornerstone

4 months

27 August 2005

from on top of the roof . . .

24 August 2005

They just don't get it . . .

22 August 2005

Who'd a thunk it?

20 August 2005

Adult Supervision Needed . . .

19 August 2005

sometimes we just pray . . .

18 August 2005

lazy day musings

17 August 2005

When there's nothing you want to say . . .

14 August 2005

Finally, the picture . . .

13 August 2005

Late night musings

12 August 2005

IT'S HERE !!!!!!!!

paradox

11 August 2005

The Rehearsal

I promised you a picture

08 August 2005

adieu . . .

06 August 2005

the anticipation

05 August 2005

Where ya'll from . . .

03 August 2005

Kudos to Gary

02 August 2005

Forming an opinion on John Bolton

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