Thursday, August 24, 2017
What Adam Saw
Adam was the first musician. I have good reason to believe this.
This past Sunday morning after getting dressed for church, I sat and played the guitar.
As the last notes of the song I was playing faded, I thanked God for the gift of music.
"What if there were no music?" I thought. (You see, like Tiny Tim, I think the strangest things, sitting by myself.)
I tried briefly to imagine such a world and could not. Instead I thought of the birds, God's irrepressible musicians.
Then I thought of Adam, full of the first breath of life, and I'm sure the first sound he heard was the birds singing.
And as he opened his eyes, his first sight was the face of his Maker.
And don't you know his heart filled up with music and he began to sing.
And maybe clap his hands.
And probably dance.
How could it be otherwise?
So I say sing to your Creator, all you people.
Rock on, you children of the Living God!
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
The Dealer, For a Nickel, Lord, Will Sell You Lots of Sweet Dreams
I originally published this on another website. Having had a friend recently commit what may turn out to be a grievous error in purchasing an automobile, I thought this might be useful.
Ever buy a new car? How was that? Or to put it another way, how long did you stay in love with this shiny new thing that cost nearly as much as your rent each month?
Having been in the auto industry 30-plus years most of it in the dealerships, I have seen a lot of love stories with bad endings.
I found out:
(A) It makes a difference who you buy your car from. The "good" salesmen will take care of you after the purchase should you experience problems. No refunds, mind you, unless the car is truly, truly awful. See the "lemon laws" in your state before shopping. If you don't know a salesman, have a trusted friend recommend one.
(B) It makes a difference who made your car. This is where you need to know (or know someone who knows) a good mechanic. Some auto companies turn out junk on a fairly consistent basis. Ask your mechanic friend which brands he works on most often. Ask him what brand he drives. Or even better, what he has bought for his wife to drive.
(C) It makes a difference whether you plan to trade cars regularly (say every two years) or not. Obviously, any vehicle will break down sooner or later. You can generally avoid the later by trading before later gets here. It helps to know what long term issues you might face with particular makes and models. Your mechanic friend again, right?
(D) I shouldn't have to say this, but you really need to follow the manufacturer's maintenance schedule. If it ain't broke you wouldn't fix it. Neither should you do stupid stuff to tear it up; like not changing the oil.
Which brings us to:
(E) It makes a difference what kind of driver you are. Or the person who will be driving the car. Jackrabbit starts and screeching halts? Not good for the car. Remember, this is an automobile not a tank (except my '68 Ford which I bought in '76 and drove for 11 years on dirt, gravel and paved roads as well as turnrows on the farm.
One more thing. The last auto dealer I worked for made this remark: "You know if I wasn't a car dealer, I would never buy a new car."
Think he knew something?
Ever buy a new car? How was that? Or to put it another way, how long did you stay in love with this shiny new thing that cost nearly as much as your rent each month?
Having been in the auto industry 30-plus years most of it in the dealerships, I have seen a lot of love stories with bad endings.
I found out:
(A) It makes a difference who you buy your car from. The "good" salesmen will take care of you after the purchase should you experience problems. No refunds, mind you, unless the car is truly, truly awful. See the "lemon laws" in your state before shopping. If you don't know a salesman, have a trusted friend recommend one.
(B) It makes a difference who made your car. This is where you need to know (or know someone who knows) a good mechanic. Some auto companies turn out junk on a fairly consistent basis. Ask your mechanic friend which brands he works on most often. Ask him what brand he drives. Or even better, what he has bought for his wife to drive.
(C) It makes a difference whether you plan to trade cars regularly (say every two years) or not. Obviously, any vehicle will break down sooner or later. You can generally avoid the later by trading before later gets here. It helps to know what long term issues you might face with particular makes and models. Your mechanic friend again, right?
(D) I shouldn't have to say this, but you really need to follow the manufacturer's maintenance schedule. If it ain't broke you wouldn't fix it. Neither should you do stupid stuff to tear it up; like not changing the oil.
Which brings us to:
(E) It makes a difference what kind of driver you are. Or the person who will be driving the car. Jackrabbit starts and screeching halts? Not good for the car. Remember, this is an automobile not a tank (except my '68 Ford which I bought in '76 and drove for 11 years on dirt, gravel and paved roads as well as turnrows on the farm.
One more thing. The last auto dealer I worked for made this remark: "You know if I wasn't a car dealer, I would never buy a new car."
Think he knew something?
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Shoot That Uppity WHAT?!?
uppity: inclined to be self-assertive; assuming; pretentious; snobbish- Webster's Dictionary of the English Language
Surprised to find THAT in the dictionary, huh?
To be honest. I had only heard it used in conjunction with another word (a racial pejorative). See: "Blazing Saddles," the part where Taggart admits depression and Lyle proposes a solution).
I find it (uppity) to be racist and offensive.
But not for the reasons most might think.
Given the context (the South of my childhood) in which I always heard it used, the word was always understood to apply to a certain group of people.
This will not do, y'all.
I have known uppity people of all persuasions (mostly the persuasion that they were "all that").
In fact the most uppity person I know of does not live near here and certainly does not trace his ancestry to the Dark Continent.
I speak of course of Kim Jong Un, the uppity little fat-boy (forgive me, Lord) ruler of North Korea.
I mean, the nerve of this guy, right? The dictator of the absolute WORST place in the world to live and he can described with every word for "uppity" given in the dictionary.
To quote Taggart: "I am depressed."
Makes me want to pray one of those Psalms. 3:7 comes to mind.
But be that as it may, the truth is (given Webster's definition) we have all been guilty of uppitiness at some point.
And in this wicked world there is an over-supply of uppity.
Perhaps a more appropriate Psalm might be the 51st: "Have mercy on me, O God."
Surprised to find THAT in the dictionary, huh?
To be honest. I had only heard it used in conjunction with another word (a racial pejorative). See: "Blazing Saddles," the part where Taggart admits depression and Lyle proposes a solution).
I find it (uppity) to be racist and offensive.
But not for the reasons most might think.
Given the context (the South of my childhood) in which I always heard it used, the word was always understood to apply to a certain group of people.
This will not do, y'all.
I have known uppity people of all persuasions (mostly the persuasion that they were "all that").
In fact the most uppity person I know of does not live near here and certainly does not trace his ancestry to the Dark Continent.
I speak of course of Kim Jong Un, the uppity little fat-boy (forgive me, Lord) ruler of North Korea.
I mean, the nerve of this guy, right? The dictator of the absolute WORST place in the world to live and he can described with every word for "uppity" given in the dictionary.
To quote Taggart: "I am depressed."
Makes me want to pray one of those Psalms. 3:7 comes to mind.
But be that as it may, the truth is (given Webster's definition) we have all been guilty of uppitiness at some point.
And in this wicked world there is an over-supply of uppity.
Perhaps a more appropriate Psalm might be the 51st: "Have mercy on me, O God."
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Something Bright and Shiny
...suffer the little children to come unto me....-Mark 10:14b
A joyful sound rings out in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings. It is not the singing or the prayers or the sound of God's Word being faithfully preached, though there are all these.
It is the sound of life. the sound of growth, the voices of babes and infants.
It might be thought to be distracting, but shouldn't it be a reminder of God's blessing that there are young families with young moms and dads committed to raising their babies in the midst of God's worship?
I am too often distracted, I find, in the midst of the Sunday service. But it is not the cries of babies that diverts my attention but my own foolish and wandering mind.
Random thoughts, a word here, a phrase there, spoken or sung during worship starts me drifting.
Nothing, certainly not the restlessness of a two year-old can be as disconcerting as to realize I've missed an important point in the sermon due to my wool-gathering.
A dear Christian friend once shared that she used to go home weeping after struggling through the service with her young child.
Prayers then, for the dedicated parents who desire to raise their precious children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
And continued prayers for myself, that I not be distracted by bright and shiny things of my imagination from the sustenance I need and seek.
A joyful sound rings out in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings. It is not the singing or the prayers or the sound of God's Word being faithfully preached, though there are all these.
It is the sound of life. the sound of growth, the voices of babes and infants.
It might be thought to be distracting, but shouldn't it be a reminder of God's blessing that there are young families with young moms and dads committed to raising their babies in the midst of God's worship?
I am too often distracted, I find, in the midst of the Sunday service. But it is not the cries of babies that diverts my attention but my own foolish and wandering mind.
Random thoughts, a word here, a phrase there, spoken or sung during worship starts me drifting.
Nothing, certainly not the restlessness of a two year-old can be as disconcerting as to realize I've missed an important point in the sermon due to my wool-gathering.
A dear Christian friend once shared that she used to go home weeping after struggling through the service with her young child.
Prayers then, for the dedicated parents who desire to raise their precious children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
And continued prayers for myself, that I not be distracted by bright and shiny things of my imagination from the sustenance I need and seek.
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