Okay. We made it to
Friday. I get it. I'm happy about it too. But, for me, I've never been able to gin up being euphoric about the TGIF obsession. Just me. It is officially
August 10, 2018, and I do bid each one a hearty hello. I did my best to watch some of the live feed from Yellowstone this week on the National Geographic channel. I, like many others, from time to time, enjoy seeing a 600 pound Grizzly Bear rip to shreds his prey and devour it before our very eyes. However, the dialog, the incessant environmental preaching, and the build-up that was given to what ended up being non-events, well, I could do without all of that. (Some of those reminded me of Geraldo Rivera's famous opening of Al Capone's vault. There was no there, there.) Don't get me wrong. The landscape shots were magnificent. The wildlife, when they could catch up with some, was good too, however, there's just something about seeing a gray wolf with a huge tracking collar that tends to lessen the impact. They had this British fellow on there who had read way too much of Carl Sagan. One thing was certain. That equipment used to film was impressive. Some of the lenses on those cameras most likely could have spotted that golf cart on the moon. I concluded the best way to watch it was to turn the sound down, have another channel on emergency standby to switch to quickly when another one of those long sequences of nothing was on the screen. See? Everyone has their own way of watching television. Even me.
Here's my flashback from August of 2007. ~ When our eldest was just a toddler we accompanied my wife’s parents to one of their Church member’s home where they were preserving fresh figs. This was the mid-1960’s but these people basically lived like it was still the 1940’s. The man of the home was a wonderful fellow but he did love his snuff. This gave me some pause when I learned to get a drink of water you had to go to the back porch to a pail with a dipper. I wasn’t sure just how much to turn that dipper because I assumed many others had done the same, but it made you less thirsty whenever the image in your mind was that dried snuff around our host’s mouth. Now he was very accurate with his spitting meaning he could land it just about wherever he wanted. This became more important as the men sat on the front porch with the children playing in the yard. Every once in a while I saw that snuff flying by our toddler’s ear which kept me nervous but didn’t seem to bother anyone else. The smell of fresh figs cooking was in the air and I could hear the ladies in the kitchen babbling and laughing as they talked about cooking, sewing, and most likely the latest news which where I came from was usually called gossip. After a couple of hours of coffee, homemade cake, and many conversations, we said our goodbyes and left with a promise that we would soon be receiving several jars of fig preserves. As they say, a good time was had by all. ~
I read what one younger fellow wrote in a spiritual devotion. He said that as a believer, our life is a billboard the world sees as they pass by. His implied question was, "What's on your billboard that people see?" I started to say I don't know why that caught my attention, but, I'm pretty sure it made me feel uncomfortable and convicted because it does speak to the heart of the matter. That will give me something to think about for a while. What say you? It reminds me of back when I was a kid and one of the themes I often heard from the pulpit had to do with what changes would one make if Jesus came to visit today. Not too long ago I shared in this forum the lyrics from the song, "If Jesus Came to Your House Today." That song talks about what kind of changes and adjustments we might make if Jesus showed up. Oh well, nothing like a good dose of conviction to get us ready for our Saturday and Lord's Day Sunday. Thinking about watching those bison in that live feed from Yellowstone reminded me of this little ditty from my childhood days, " Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam and I'll show you a dirty house." With that bit of wisdom, I will bid you farewell. For today. Lord willing, whether the Creeks, (Creek Indian Nation), rise up or not, I will do my best to catch back up with you come next Monday. Until then, may God bless each one.
Amen. ....More later.
Here's my flashback from August of 2007. ~ When our eldest was just a toddler we accompanied my wife’s parents to one of their Church member’s home where they were preserving fresh figs. This was the mid-1960’s but these people basically lived like it was still the 1940’s. The man of the home was a wonderful fellow but he did love his snuff. This gave me some pause when I learned to get a drink of water you had to go to the back porch to a pail with a dipper. I wasn’t sure just how much to turn that dipper because I assumed many others had done the same, but it made you less thirsty whenever the image in your mind was that dried snuff around our host’s mouth. Now he was very accurate with his spitting meaning he could land it just about wherever he wanted. This became more important as the men sat on the front porch with the children playing in the yard. Every once in a while I saw that snuff flying by our toddler’s ear which kept me nervous but didn’t seem to bother anyone else. The smell of fresh figs cooking was in the air and I could hear the ladies in the kitchen babbling and laughing as they talked about cooking, sewing, and most likely the latest news which where I came from was usually called gossip. After a couple of hours of coffee, homemade cake, and many conversations, we said our goodbyes and left with a promise that we would soon be receiving several jars of fig preserves. As they say, a good time was had by all. ~
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