The Consequences of Ego

Ego. Such a little word, such big consequences.

I don't know why, but when I run, I can't just run; run if I see another runner. I must compete. I must beat them. I must conquer them unmercifully, reducing said runner to an abject object devoid of human value clinging to the despair of the only thing they have left in life - their defeat at my ruthless, Machiavellian, super-human display of fitness.

That's how my world is supposed to work. The reality is that it is usually I who have been reduced to an insecure, fragile, limping, gasping de-evolutionized remnant of the human race (pun intended, get it - race?).

Here's an example. Please take a few moments to examine this picture and then we'll discuss and interpret the sequence of events:

The red line represents my route, going north on SW 81st. I'm near the end of my run, I've pushed myself, I'm wheezing with a touch of asthma, but I'm going to finish good. For me. Which means I'm not going to die, at least not today.

As I approached SW Ross, a runner maybe 20 years my junior (I'm 48, she looked to in her 20's) turned left in front of me. She is represented by the blue line.

I kept my pace, she kept hers; and it was clear that I was gaining on her and would shortly pass her. All of a sudden, she threw down! What! This is just a Saturday morning run for crying out loud. But no, she clearly challenged me. Well, bring it on sister.

I picked my pace, and like a Indy car gathering speed the mitochondria kicked in, lactic acid was put on hold; and my body became a Kreb's cycle machine. Deep, satisfying breaths filled the lungs with a power source like avaiation gas in a top fuel dragster. I strode out, my powerful legs kicking up chunks of asphalt as the constraints of a physical universe began to wane under my dominion. As I ran, a noise like a machine gun filled the air. Puzzled for a moment, I realized that the air displaced by my expanding calves was creating small, subsonic shock waves - bangbangbangbangbangbang.

I knew within a few moments she would be in shock and awe of my athletic prowess. Suddenly, a new threat emerged - around the corner from 80th ave 3-4 sauntering teenage boys turned onto 81st (represented by the olive arrow). Now, I was beginning to fade just a bit from my energy expenditure to pass the runner. But, faced with teenage boys there was no way I could back off.

I stretched my powerful pectoral muscles and plunged into the wind. Like the bow of an aircraft carrier moving the ocean aside, the air parted before me not unlike the ripples you would see in the water. The green X then represents the convergence of events, where I passed the runner and the teenagers passed me.

Gentle reader, that's the fantasy I had in my mind. In reality, if we cut to the skycam; it probably went something like this:

Announcer 1 "Gene, what is that guy doing? A middle aged runner, belly swinging back and forth as he's trying to pass that gal who could squash him in a seconed?". Announcer 2 - "Well Tony, not only that but look at him gasping for breath - he's an asthma attack on wheels!" Announcer 1 - "look at him now! The emergence of those teenagers is making him crazy - I think he's trying to impress them!". Announcer 2 - "this doesn't look good at all - should I call 911 now?"

Yeah, it was pathetic. Thankfully though, I had an ace up my sleeve - the last corner to my house was coming up. If I just made it around the corner, I could slow to a walk and hopefully she would not witness my dismal appearance. I got to the corner still pumping hard, rounded the corner, and almost threw up.

But I beat her.

Rebellion & Redemption at Rite-Aid - a story of Restoration

I was picking up a few prescriptions at our local Rite-Aid and was standing at the STOP sign where you are instructed to NOT MOVE ANY CLOSER to the cashier in order to comply with HIIPA regulations. I think HIIPA stands for "helium induced interoffice playtime antics" or something like that when we get out the ballons & the tank and starting huffing and laughing at each other with those squeaky little voices you get - "we are, the lollipop kids, the lollipop kids...".

In any case, I was surreptiously moving closer and closer and then over so slightly PAST the sign. Visions of snarling German Shepherds quickly moved me back to the approved waiting area, fully respecting the right to patient privacy although we in line could hear every word of the exchange happening at the cashier 3 feet away from us. But by golly we were compliant.

Upon my turn the pharmacist mentioned that both my wife and I had "insurance issues" negating the ability to fulfill our prescriptions. Now in my case, I was two days early (oh my, ratchet up the Homeland Security status) to pick up mine. Slightly annoyed, but only slightly; and since there was no privacy anyway in the HIIPA zone, I turned to the customers behind me and said something like

"No problem, within two days I'll be blind from pain, bleeding out and suffer a horrific death because I can't get my Nasonex refilled today".

Everyone laughed, even the pharmacist; and we were able to rectify the issue with Sherry's prescription and he asked if I could wait about 10 minutes. Of course, no problem. I had come in with a SBUX raspberry mocha extra hot nonfat nowhip so I wandered over to the magazines, picked one up, and then saw a patio furniture display.

I plunked myself down and with great satisfaction began sipping my drink and perusing the pages. I got a few dirty looks from the cashiers, but then an elderly woman approached and asked if I could read the expiration date on the milk she retrieved from the cooler. "Of course Ma'am, it is April 4". "Oh my", she exclaimed, "that is too close for me". I returned to the magazine, and a few moments later she was back - well, now we were at April 1. A few moments later she was back, and I said "Ma'am, may I escort you to the milk cooler and we'll find you the absolutely freshest half gallon that ever came out of a cow"? OK, I'm embellishing but we did go to the cooler and I found her the freshest one in stock.

By that time it was time to go back to the pharmacist, and I was able to retrieve Sherry's meds. I actually felt a moment of sorrow for my snarky comment, and apologized to the pharmacist. He laughed and said "no problem Dave, I've heard much much worse than that".

I realized in that moment that I was forgiven! All was right again with Dave and Rite-Aid. This may be a poor representation of the Gospel (haven't figured out what the sacrificial atonment might be), but it made me think of the progression:

1. Didn't get what I wanted (instant servicing of my selfishness, the Human Condition)
2. Got what I didn't want (problems with insurance, i.e. "God")
3. Rebelled - acted out, became a general pain in the butt.
4. Attempted restoration by works - helped (literally) a little old lady.
5. Repented - realized how childish I had acted, apologized.
6. Restoration - Andy the pharmacist forgave me.

OK, it's a bit weak - but I'm still forgiven and can go into Rite-Aid with a clear conscience.

Cycling + Watermelon = Art

Now that's art! I love the creativity of using a watermelon as a canvas, and creating a cycling masterpiece such as this. But if you look closely, it looks like the artist began to run out of space and realized that in proportion, uh - it's not gonna fit. Hey no problem, let's just turn the front wheel - hmmm, a little more - there! That's it! Notice how the speeding cyclist is still going all out, body and handlebars forward, but the front tire is now 90 degrees to the bike. I smell disaster.

Nope, this is not going to work. I'm sure the artist in "rindsight" (get it - hindsight/rindsight, watermelon rind?) realized his/her egregious error. But hey, what are you going to do.

Well, looking at this brought to mind my own cycling, shall we say; "mishaps". As I recollect, I've only crashed about four times in my life. I recount them to you in chronological order:

1. Showing Off. It was a hot summer day, and on my old Trek 720 I was blasting down the bike trail parallel to 205 south, at Clackamas Town Center. I was zipping across Town Center Drive, crossing 6 lanes of traffic legally as the light turned green for me to enter Clackamas Promenade. I had my jersey off, and my huge muscular chest cast a shadow like an aircraft carrier as I entered the intersection and then slid out of the turn. I shredded a fair amount of exposed skin, and my bike banged into the curb with such force that it popped a tire. All six lanes of traffic stared as this bloody, limping form walked over to retrieve the maimed bicycle.
2. Clipless Pedals. Every cyclist I know does this at least once. I had moved to a 2120 all carbon frame with clipless pedals. On the same bike path, going north I stopped for traffic at Stark Street. I began to lean over as usual but instantly realized that there was NO WAY I could get clipped out in time. I didn't even try. I remember the face of a child in a passing station wagon watching me intenly as I just came to a stop and fell right over.
3. Car crash. It could have been a lot worse. Riding west on Marine Drive, I had the right of way in a bike path when a car making a right hand turn looked left, didn't check right; and drove right into me. I remained upright as the impact on my back wheel spun me exactly 90 degrees. I wasn't hurt, just shaken up. The driver was very sorry, and the only damage was that it put my rear wheel out of true to the extent that I had to open the brake caliper to ride. But it didn't even pop the tire.
4. Whiskeytown Wipeout. Gary and I were grinding up the last big hill before the descent into Whiskeytown Lake, west of Redding California. I made the classic cyclist mistake of following too close, and clipping his rear wheel. It spun me right off the shoulder of the road and I actually tumbled about 10 fee or so down the embankment. Got some nasty road rash and cuts on that one, we finished the ride but the blood had literally run down my leg and into my shoe. But I'm tough (or stupid, or perhaps both).

Isn't it ironic

I like a song by Alanis Morrisette called Ironic. Here's a sample of the lyrics:

An old man turned ninety-eight,

He won the lottery and died the next day,

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay,

It's a death row pardon two minutes too late. And isn't it ironic...dontcha think

OK, it may be a little dark but I still like it. I had a moment of irony that actually brought me to laughter a few days ago. Our neighbors were taking their very first vacation ever away from the kids (ages 19, 17 & 14 - or close to that!). Before they departed we were having a driveway chat and I emphasized that the kids could come over any time of the day or night should they have a problem or need some help.

Here's the irony - this from a guy who fell of his roof in January and whose wife caught the house on fire last year! I think they laughed all the way to Phoenix about that. But we're here for you, and isn't it ironic!

Joey's Question

Joey commented on an earlier post, and posed these questions:

So we do have a free will, that is without question. However when it comes to salvation, what do you see in scripture as to the progression of regeneration in the sinner? Do you believe that an unregenerate sinner can recognize his need for God? Or do you believe that God has to move on them with regeneration before they can recognizeit. How do you balance man's will with God's sovereignty? I think it is interesting that we have a free will and yet I am sure that my will cannot override the will of God, since I am finite and He is infinite and all the other incommunicable attributes. What's your take on this?

Joey, a short answer to your question(s) is: Yes.

(crickets chirping)

I'm going to give a somewhat rambling reply, as there are several themes that are involved here. And I will also admit humility - without formal training in Calvinism I am going to look stupid I'm sure on some points (pun unintended) - but I'm willing to explore and engage.

OK - first of all I believe that regeneration is a synergestic process. By that I mean that there is cooperation between man's soul and God's initiative. That of course leads right into the argument of total depravity, that man is sufficiently corrupt (dead in sin) that there is nothing extant within a human being to respond to God's initiative. Mongergism maintains that regeneration is solely the work of God. Here's a plagiarized and rewritten (for brevity's sake) illustration from "Why I am not a Calvinist" by Jerry Walls and Joseph Dongell:

A sinner is enslaved in a prison camp. Bound, gagged, blindfolded and drugged, the layers of distortion are so entrenched the prisoner cannot even begin to seek help. God then bursts through the gates, overpowers the guards, enters the prisoner's cell and injects faith into his/her veins. God has been the sole actor throughout, even as the former prisoner now lives a life of faith.

The classical Arminiast position would say that God penetetrates the defenses, gently lifts the blindfold and whispers - "I am hear to help you, I love you and have prepared a different life for you if you - if you trust me it will be alright". Perhaps the prisoner resists for a while, but eventually surrenders and accepts the offer of freedom. That scenario seems to follow the richness of the gospel and the interaction of God and the provisions He made for mankind.

In terms then of predistination, I believe that God predestines (every Christian believes in predestination, the differences of opinion come on discussion where and how it occurs) by looking down the corridor of time and predestinating according to how we will choose. The alternative (and this is where I will admit I need help from a Calvinist perspective) is a rigid, fixed life. I think this cartoon actually illustrates my point:

I think the foreknowledge of God is a crucial point as well - I'm not suggesting what I believe is an aberrant construct, open theology where God does not know the future. Propenents of this belief would be Rabbi Harold Kushner (When bad things happen to good people) and Gregory Boyd (God of the possible). In those streams, God can be caught off guard and thus predestination takes on a different form.

For example, I usually drive home from work going south on 217 to the 72nd Ave exit. Day after day. But what if, one day; I suddenly crank the wheel and cut across traffic to the Walker Road exit. Has God predestined me to take Walker Road after all? Did I surprise Him? What if I even, with tires squealing, engine roaring, cutting cars off with fingers flipping me off scream back off of Walker Road and back onto 217? Have a I caught God off guard and he goes "whoa' - better predestine Dave back onto 217 real quick or his future is going to be in a world of hurt and I'm going to look stupid".

I'm using extreme and ridiculous examples, but for me - there is a kernel of truth in them.

As for your last question - can my will override the will of God, uh - I dunno! It's the classical argument of:

If God is all powerful, can he create a rock so big that even he cannot move it?

If you say yes, then He is not omnipotent (all powerful) because by nature omnipotence can move anything. If you say no, then He is not omnipotent because if He WAS omnipotent He could do it! No win either way. But this illustration has been used to talk of the human will in relation to God's will where human will becomes 'the rock'.

I suppose then that I would say that my will can override God's will. Whoa! Heretic, take him outside the gates and stone him. But let me qualify - I believe that God can override my will, but chooses not to. If, on the way to work; I'm confronted with a pedestrian who will not move out of the crosswalk blocking my way. I have my will - to get to work. He has his will - to stay right in the middle of the intersection - I COULD run him over, but I CHOOSE not to.

Going further, you probably heard of the pastor's wife that murdered him and fled with their children. Was it God's will that she slay him? I don't think so. Yet it happened. That leads to a logical conclusion that God creates evil, as in this circumstance he COULD HAVE STOPPED HER but He didn't. Why? WHY? WHY?

Why does evil happen, good people get sick and die while bad people prosper, youth become disenfranchised and violent and their parents have affairs and divorce and create meth labs?

I'm not sure. But I believe it has something to do with free will.

Joey, I'm starting a journey into the five points (I'm trying not to say Calvinism vs. Arminianism in every post) and will continue to blog on these topics. Thanks for your questions!

The Theology of Fox - Part Two

The following takes place (CHINKcha, CHINKCha, CHINKcha)...As referenced in my previous post, Sherry and I are hooked on two shows and record them - American Idol and 24.

Note to reader: if you don't watch 24, there's a lot of inside references that may render the remainder of this post meaningless.

I was utterly shocked that they killed Edgar! Oh Edgar, thou of gentle spirit and undying devotion. I just knew that Chloe would eventually see into his heart rather than his girth. But I digress.

There are also some hilarious memes circulating about Jack's uh, shall we say; "tenacity":

1. When google can't find something, it asks Jack Bauer for help.
2. Every time the cops get an APB to arrest Jack Bauer, half the department mysteriously calls out sick. The fire department too, just in case.
3. Jack Bauer doesn't kill terrorists. The terrorists actually die from fear of being killed by Jack Bauer.
4. Upon hearing that he was played by Kiefer Sutherland, Jack Bauer killed Sutherland. Jack Bauer gets played by no man.
5. Jack Bauer once forgot where he put his keys. He then spent the next half-hour torturing himself until he gave up the location of the keys.
6. Jack Bauer doesn't miss. If he didn't hit you it's because he was shooting at another terrorist twelve miles away.
7. Killing Jack Bauer doesn't make him dead. It just makes him angry.
   

And my favorite:

• If Jack Bauer was in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Nina Meyers, and he had a gun with 2 bullets, he'd shoot Nina twice.
  

Well, in all of this Jack seems to be acquiring God's incommunicable attributes - he's everywhere! He knows everything (and if he doesn't he'll find out), he's omnipotent (all powerful) etc etc. It has been suggested that Jack represents an OT God, bent on killing and vengeance. Yeah, Jack Bauer and his "bad days" permeate blogdom - some funny and some serious, such as this one.

So what is the theological theme (if any!) we can see in 24? It might be that:

If Jack Bauer were Moses, there would only need to be one tablet and five commandments.

Well, perhaps Jack is a figure of Moses, Joshua, God - or a composite of all three?

Personally, I think Jack Bauer is a representation of the OT judges. Who where these people and what did they do? I think Bratcher paints a perfect portrait the climate and roles that the judges of Israel played:

A "judge" (Heb: shophet) was primarily a military leader of a particular tribe, although they could serve the role of both military and legal administrator. The book of Judges is primarily the negative theological counterpart to the book of Joshua. In Joshua, Israel was faithful to God and stood unified around the single figure of Joshua. As a result of allowing God to lead them they were successful and settled into the land with a minimum of major battles. Theologically the book of Joshua presents the results of obedience and faithfulness to God, summarized by the statement "the land had rest from war" (Josh 11:23, 14:15; 21:44, etc.).

The book of Judges presents quite a different picture of Israel. As the book opens, the tribes are not at all unified, are barely holding onto small pieces of land independently of other tribes, and are continually at risk from surrounding people.

Yeah, I think that is a fairly accurate portrayal of the America seen in Jack's world. A country torn by division, you can't trust anyone, at risk by terrorists, and one man - Jack Bauer - is going to do whatever it takes to secure our freedoms and rid us of of evil. Wow.

So in the book of Judges, is there one who seems close to Jack Bauer? I think so. How about Gideon?

1. Gideon came from a poor tribe (Manasseh) and thus maintained he was not fit to be a leader. Jack Bauer wears his blue collar well, and is humble to boot around the president(s) he hangs with.
2. Gideon used his fleece to get direction from God. Jack Bauer uses his PDA to get direction from CTU.
3. Gideon used deception and misdirection to cause the Midianites to kill each other in confusion. Jack Bauer uses German intelligence agents and promises them the wet list and then burns their PDAs with a self destructing memory card.

I suppose then that the lines for Bauer were lifted from the OT judges, and Gideon especially!

The Theology of Fox - Part One

No, not George Fox but Fox Broadcasting Company. Sherry and I recently acquired Comcast DVR which offers Tivo-like capabilities. There are only two shows we really enjoy, and those two are American Idol and 24, both on Fox. The DVR allows us to record them and then play them back at our convenience, rather than being a slave to the designated day and time slot. Now we're struggling with "Tivo Tyranny", the affliction of recording a bunch of shows and then making time to watch them rather than watching at our convenience. It came to a head when I found myself taping an episode of the Dukes of Hazzard, and even - I shudder as I articulate these words out loud - almost taped an episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter.

oh - how low have I sunk?!? I join Paul in exclaiming "wretched man that I am! Who will save me from this body of death" .

Well, I came across an interesting blog entry the other day about American Idol. In it, Paul Walker discusses how Paula is the gospel and grace where Simon is the law. To quote Paul:

Life is this constant tension between Simon and Paula. One minute you are judged and destroyed by the law by some standard you can’t live up to. It could be academics, it could be body image, it could be the funny guy wit factor, it could be your father, it could be your inner voice that constantly accuses you of not having done enough, been enough, planned enough, prayed enough, been good enough – “You are an absolute nightmare”

As I reflect on the show, one of the reasons I do watch it is that I enjoy Simon. Yeah, he can be harsh and condescending - but most of the time, he's right! He lends a dose of reality to Randy and Paula's reluctance to smack down someone who truly does not belong on the stage (I love to sing to the radio, and once asked our worship director at church if he needs any backup singers. He said, "well Dave, I could use you as a tenor". My heart leapt at that, but then plummeted as he went on to say "about ten or fifteen miles from here" ). Sigh.

Well, one day running on a treadmill with my mind free to roam, I imagined this scene with John Calvin and Jacob Arminuis being the final two contestants:

Ryan Seacrest: well it's been a tough road to Hollywood. We heard from the likes of Finney, Augustine, Kung, Edwards, but all were eliminated leaving just two left - John Calvin and Jacob Arminius. Let's give them a warm welcome!

Calvin sings (just can't) Shake Your Love, by Debbie Gibson. In accordance with his position on eternal security and that salvation cannot be lost, he finishes the song with a smoldering look into the camera as he sings the final refrain - just can't shake, your love! Ryan takes the stage, hugs John and says something corny like "Wow, now that was some artitistic Calvinistic music-mystic doctrinistic! John hugs him back. Why did you pick that song, John?" Calvin replies "well you know Ryan that once we're saved, we are always saved - it just seemed like the perfect chorus that no matter what we do, we can't shake God's love". Terrific, says Ryan; and now let's go to the judges:

• Randy: dawg, now that was awesome. I mean, the love of God that cannot be shaken by anything, even the free will of man; man - you got it going on.
• Paula: you know John, I've loved you ever since the beginning of this competition. I'll always be one of your biggest fans.
• Simon: that was, was..deplorable. Now look John, you can hear that same sermon being preached all over America, you need some originality to separate yourself from all the other theological wannabees. You just don't have that X factor (Randy and Paula booing).
  

Ryan makes a snide remark about Simon, and then Jacob steps up to the microphone. The music starts and he begins to sing Fleetwood Mac's hit song Save Me. "Save me, I'm running for cover, save me; is it one or the other...". Ryan As the music fades Jacob begins an impassioned interpretation that we can fall away from grace and lose salvation, we should sing this song every day in our devotionals to ensure we are still saved, and we should purchase Fleetwood Mac music for telling the truth. Ryan cuts him off, and turns to the judges:

• Randy: well, you started off a little pitchy but it was alright. You did your thing man.
• Paula: you know Jacob, I've loved you ever since the beginning of this competition. I'll always be one of your biggest fans.
• Simon: I wouldn't have picked that sermon, but you know you've got something that sets you apart from all the Calvinists out there in the crowd. I'm beginning to like you.
  

Ryan jumps up and defends Calvin and starts into TULIP. Simon scowls and says, "look Ryan; you really look like a daisy up there - does He love you, or does He not"?

The crowd laughs and the show cuts to a commercial showing young attractive people wearing Old Navy clothing driving in Ford automobiles while drinking Coca-Cola.

I am conflicted...

I have a pattern or habit that is related to my on ramp behavior that have some readers may relate to. As I depart from work and enter on to the on ramp, there are two lanes that are controlled by alternating lights, and as the traffic begins to stack up my habit goes something like this:

1. Focus any mental energy left from the day on which lane may be fastest.
2. Insert vehicle in lane.
3. Begin surfing radio stations for something that will keep me awake.
4. Check out mentally for a few moments, then pull ahead keeping the gap as we get nearer the light.
5. Begin surfing radio stations for something that will keep me awake.
6. Check out mentally for a few moments, then pull ahead keeping the gap as we get nearer the light.
7. Begin surfing radio stations....

Finally, as I pull into the lead position to be the next to go, there is one more thing I do. Ignore the "job disadvantaged shower deprived person" looking for a handout. Now that sounds a bit harsh, but I suppose I've been somewhat jaded as they become part of the on ramp experience in my suburban existence and then fade in my rear view mirror. We (i.e. church people) acknowledge that they have tangible needs, but then seem to qualify our reluctance to help because they are probably going to go spend the money on booze or drugs. We're conditioned to think in this way:

So, a few days ago as I was almost to the light I glanced at the SUV next to me on my right. Young guy, nice ride, probably high tech employee...as he's talking on his cell phone and ON TOP of his car is his laptop! I tried to get his attention but he did not see me, so I resorted to a few light taps on my horn. Catching his eye, I made hand motions that if, I was a signal man on an aircraft carrier; would have plunged an F-18 right into the ocean. Finally, after some interesting gesturing he got the message and mouthed thank you as he opened his door and received the errant laptop.

I felt oh so noble, helping out a brother; perhaps saving him from a hard drive disaster and seeing shards of laptop sprayed out onto the asphalt. But then, looking to my left; I see him and make eye contact - yes, a beggar looking for a handout in ragged clothes holding the obligatory sign indicating his service in Vietnam, any amount will help, and God Bless me. Almost then as an observer to the scene, I watched my face become void of emotion or acknowledgement and turn my eyes back to the on ramp traffic.

I am conflicted.

Now, most days I spend a few bucks on a mocha in my morning ritual. I usually have anywhere between $5.00 - $20.00 in my wallet on any given day. I could have handed him a fiver and not even noticed a financial impact. But then, what if I was enabling him? He could have taken a shower at a shelter, used my fiver and perhaps a few other donations to get a haircut and shave, and apply for a job. But what if he spends my hard earned money on Mad Dog or meth?

Should I judge him or help him?

Look at this passage from Job (31:16-22):

"If I have denied the desires of the poor or let the eyes of the widow grow weary, if I have kept my bread to myself, not sharing it with the fatherless...if I have seen anyone perishing for lack of clothing, or a needy man without a garment, and his heart did not bless me for warming him with the fleece from my sheep....then let my arm fall from the shoulder, let it be broken off at the joint".

Ouch!

But wait, there's more - other passages such as Psalm 41:1 & Matthew 25:34 - 46 (and many more) show our duty to assist fellow travelers on the road of life. But then I came across an interesting passage in Leviticus (19:15, NLT):

Always judge your neighbors fairly, neither favoring the poor nor showing deference to the rich.

So I suppose there is a degree of judgment we use. Now, how to reconcile? As I've prayed about this I believe God does want me to give some financial help, so yes I will give him a fiver. I think God also wants him to know that he is loved and there is hope, so I will write him a little note. Am I obligated to give him money every time I see him? I don't think so.

But I am conflicted.

Why did Angels sin?

The question came from an acquaintance who had attended a university (motto: “engaging the culture, changing the world”) and when she inquired of a professor the question she received an inadequate response.

That puzzled me, because the university website reveals that it was:

“Established in the Pacific Northwest more than a century ago by Free Methodist pioneers, it is a comprehensive Christian university of the liberal arts, sciences and professions.”

I’m puzzled as to how do you engage the culture and change the world if you don’t have at least a few thoughts to share?!? Now, I like Methodists. In fact, in matters of predestination my theological beliefs are very close to Wesleyan constructs. So now I was not only puzzled, but troubled that a higher institution claiming Christian origins would leave a question like that hanging in the breeze.

But I digress – my issue is not with the university, although I would enjoy talking with the professor to understand why he/she could not give even a basic reply or point to other resources. But let’s move on!

Well, let’s set up some foundational propositions and work back to the question. The premise of the question is found in a presupposition that when deconstructed, could go in this manner:

1. God is perfect.
2. God created everything, including angels.
3. Angels were created into a universe where there was no sin.
4. Angels existed then in a perfect, sinless universe.
5. Therefore, having not been exposed to sin they would have not sinned.

But we know that they DID sin (2 Peter 2:4, Jude 1:6)!

So, the construct then plays out the same as above except for the last line but notice what happens when we leave the prefix to that line the same:

1. God is perfect.
2. God created everything, including angels.
3. Angels were created into a universe where there was no sin.
4. Angels existed then in a perfect, sinless universe.
5. Therefore, angels sinned.
   

That is a crucial point, and here is my premise:

The universe that the angels existed in did not cause them to sin, or to say it in another way their sin was not cause by outward circumstances.

Therefore, the construct then takes a different form:

1. God is perfect.
2. God created everything, including angels.
3. Angels were created into a universe where there was no sin.
4. Angels existed then in a perfect, sinless universe.
5. But, angels sinned.

It is for that word swap, replacing “therefore” with “but” which leads us back to the question – why did angels sin?

Based on my premise above, nothing ‘forced’ them to sin. God did not hold a gun to their little angelic heads and say “OK, look – you need to sin so that me (God) cannot be blamed for the problem of evil in the world”. Christian theology maintains that God did not create evil, but He created the potential for evil. This potential is akin to free will.

So where am I going with all this? I believe the question can be answered in this way – angels sinned because they were created with free will – to sin, or not to sin. Some angels made a choice and sinned, some did not.

Some people, out of free will - will accept salvation through Christ’s sacrificial death. Some will not. Now the topic of free will has to be accompanied in context with “her twin sisters” – predestination and sovereignty, but that is not the purpose of this small study.

Hamartiology is the doctrine of sin, and in James chapter one we find these words:

When tempted, no one should say, "God is tempting me." For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

We ask again though, the angels existed in a perfect universe – what temptation was there for them?

Because angels were created with attributes that seem to consistent with mankind (mind or intellect, will, emotions) the temptation for them was to see God’s power, His majesty, His dominion – and instead of responding with worship, desire to usurp it for their own. We acknowledge that the first created being to sin was Satan, and that he organized a rebellion causing his ousting from Heaven.

Satan’s pride and inordinate desire prompted him to turn the free will that God had given him against God’s will, in self-will. Therefore, this rebellion was a conscious act of the will, as all sin is. Isaiah 14:12-14 describes what theologians describe as the five “I wills” of Satan that led to his downfall:

1. I will ascend into heaven
2. I will exalt my throne above the stars of God
3. I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation in the sides of the north.
4. I will ascend above the heights of the clouds.
5. I will be like the Most High.
   

To harmonize with James, we could say that Satan first thought these things in his heart, then he acted on them, and his actions (sin) caused his separation from God – just like we do.

That's my Mom

There are two phrases every man needs to know and state publicly once in a while to have healthy family relationships:

1. You, my wife; are the most youthful woman in the world.
2. You, my mom; are the most youthful woman in the world.

If you can avoid having to say those two sentences in the same room at the same time with those two women present, it is a good thing.

Now, let's talk a little about dad - he opened the car door recently and bumped his noggin - because he forgot to step back and opened the door into his head! Mom has been teasing him a little bit about this. Until a few days ago when mom tripped over a purse at work and whacked her head on a bookshelf, to the extent that she required a stitch or two. Footnote to sister Janet - we're going to have to buy little pillows to strap to mom and dad's foreheads!

Fortunately, mom works in a hospital so she just sauntered up the ER and said hi to everybody and then said "hey, does anyone have a spare moment to put a stitch in my forehead?". A doctor responded and said "you don't need a stitch, we have a glue that we can use". Mom considered that and said nope, she'll take a stitch thanks very much. I like that, Old School.

Now dad usually picks mom up from work and was a little surprised when he walked in and didn't see mom. He inquired where Bev was and was told she's up in the ER due to an accident. I think after a moment of panic he had a bit of fun turning it back on mom!

Well, working in the hospital mom had the opportunity to pull here own admission form or whatever they call the ER document. It said this (mom quickly pointed out that well nourished only distinguishes the patient from malnourishment):

Well nourished healthy female in no apparent distress who
appears years younger than her stated age.

Now, that was quite a compliment and mom doesn't even use Oil of Delay or anything like that. Way to go mom, I love you. You rock!

Mysteries and Memorabilia

I had occasion recently to involve myself into a frightening and potentially injurios expedition. Yes, I (without safety apparatus or a hazmat protective suit) ventured underneath the bed. As the dust bunnies fled for safety, I actually found the pair of shoes I had been looking for!

But wait, there's more - I found a bag of decals that I've been lugging around for years (yes, I am a packrat and would enroll in a 12 step program but I would need 14). These decals originate from the late 1970's and find their roots in the automotive racing industry. I've always had an affection for anything with a motor that can be raced - boats, motorcycles, automobiles, lawn mowers, etc. My 15 minutes of fame was actually working on some engine parts (albeit as a subcontractor in a machine shop) for Richard Petty! Well, this bag of decals contains about 30-40 decals mostly associated with drag racing, and are in perfect shape. Examples of the vendors include:

1. Champion (spark plugs)
2. Crane (camshafts)
3. Hooker (headers)
4. Torco (racing oil)
5. Fairbanks (transmissions)
6. Holley (carburetors)
7. Formula (racing tires)
8. BME (forged rods)
9. Team G (manifolds)

Now these stickers are in almost perfect shape, and there are a lot more I haven't mentioned. Maybe I'll put the whole lot on eBay for $500 bucks!

But wait, there's still more!

I found a cardboard mailing tube, like you would use to send a map or poster for shipping. Now, I have no idea what the contents are. However, I think that there are two or more items. I believe one of the items is my 1975 high school senior class picture. My school was small enough to have one panoramic picture of the whole class, and it is hilarious. My hair was down below my shoulders, and I was either so stoned I couldn't see the camera or I was adopting a tough guy stance - I don't remember. So the mystery is what is or are the other contents? This is kind of one of those delicious moments to savor - I'm going to leave the tube visible in our bedroom for a few days, and then if I still can't remember the contents I'll open it. And share with you the results.

But wait, there's even more than before!

Amongst the stuff from beneath the bed I pulled out an old, slightly yellowing envelope. Even as I touched it before I saw it I knew instantly what it was.

When I was a kid growing up in the desert, I learned the value of money through my paper route. Even had a profile once published in the paper with my motto - every paper on every porch every day. Makes me wish that our current newspaper carrier had the same commitment to service - their version goes something like this:

1. Throw the paper on the porch knocking over Sherry's vase and breaking it. Wait for us to complain.
2. Let the paper sit in the driveway absorbing rain. Wait for us to complain.
3. Throw the paper back on the porch denting the screen door. Wait for us to complain.
4. Rinse and repeat.

Idiots - is it THAT hard to simply put the paper in a dry spot without breaking something on a consistent basis? Oops! Did I say that out loud? Excuse me, just a little frustration creeping through there! Anyway, if there were any changes to my route, there would be an envelope with subscriber additions or cancellations. I found one of those envelopes and it brought back a lot of paperboy memories:

1. Folding the papers as fast as I could, whipping the rubber bands over the finished product. This was before the days like today where they use those sissy plastic bags!
2. Washing my hands afterward and watching the black ink dissolve in the hot soapy water.
3. The kind ladies at the brick/stonework factory who would buy me a coke on a hot day.
4. The canvas smell of the bags that I slung over my handlebars and learning to not unbalance my bars by throwing 3 from one side and 3 from the others. I can still smell that smell today.
5. My collecting the subscription fees - "Hi, I'm Dave Mundt and I'm collecting for the Ledger Gazette". There is an interesting parallel here that I never realized until now - the paper route was my very first job and I think was 11 or 12. My first job at US Bank was as a collector about 25 years later and my patter went something like this - "Hi, I'm Dave Mundt from US Bank and if you don't pay your auto loan I'm going to repossess it".
6. Once a month on (I think it was Wednesdays) we gave a paper to every single customer on our route to entice their business. The volume was significant enough there was no way I could do it on my bike, so dad would help me. We would literally fill the trunk of our old Ford Falcon with newspapers and Dave, and dad would slowly drive down the street as I chucked papers out of the trunk, right and left; right and left.

Well, probably the coolest thing on that envelope was seeing our old address - 44945 16th Street West, Lancaster California. Yeah, I'm just indulging here on a trip down memory lane but you want to know how old that envelope is? Well, here's a clue: our phone number at the time was Whitehall 2-3563!

Yeah, I'm a packrat. And I'm going to have to look under the bed more often!

Mama's Bible

Four brothers left home for college, and they became successful doctors and lawyers and prospered.Some years later, they chatted after having dinner together. They discussed the gifts they were able to give their elderly mother who lived far away in another city.The first said, "I had a big house built for Mama."The second said, "I had a hundred thousand dollar theater built in the house."The third said, "I had my Mercedes dealer deliver an SL600 to her."The fourth said, "You know how Mama loved reading the Bible and you know she can't read anymore because she can't see very well. I met this preacher who told me about a parrot that can recite the entire bible. It took twenty preachers 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000 a year for twenty years to the church, but it was worth it. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it."

The other brothers were impressed. After the holidays Mama sent out her Thank You notes. She wrote:

• "Milton, the house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway."
• "Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home, I have my groceries delivered, so I never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks."
• "Michael, you gave me an expensive theater with Dolby sound, it could hold 50 people, but all of my friends are dead, I've lost my hearing and I'm nearly blind. I'll never use it. Thank you for the gesture just the same."
• "Dearest Melvin, you were the only son to have the good sense to give a little thought to your gift. The chicken was delicious. Thank you."
  
  HT to Ben Witherington

MMmmm - Enchiladas!

We had enchiladas the other night. Not just any enchiladas, but Sherry's special recipe. I won't share all of the details, but we have gotten many requests for the recipe and Sherry has been invited as a guest of Martha Stewart to demonstrate how easy they are to make. However, her (Sherry's) time is filled with more important agenda items than placating Martha so she has had to turn her down.

But I digress. Sherry is getting pretty amazing in the kitchen, and even has been making Kadie's (Kadie is our beloved dog) dog food. Sherry has been convinced that commercial dog food makers have compromised canine quality and health and also have been found to be tied to Haliburton (this statement remains a rumor and is uncomfirmed).

Well, after our enchilada feast I put leftovers in a container for work the next day. There's something about enchiladas (and pizza) that creates a gastronomical delight after continuing to ferment overnight. The flavors tend to distribute throughout the substance of the food, tantalizing taste buds to excess.

All morning long I was anticipating enchiladas, and then - lunchtime! I put the leftovers into the microwave, let the magic rays caress my meal for a few minutes, and then almost salivating pulled the container out. Hmmm, thought I; these don't look like enchiladas. Then it hit me - I had grabbed a container of dog food! Now, the dog food Sherry makes is not the kind of stuff swept up from a butcher's floor. I knew it was chicken and..and...what is that? It was either very overcooked rice or mashed potatoes that were slightly less cooked. I took a fork and and sampled it, yecccch - very bland, still unconfirmed starchy substance clinging to the bits of chicken. I couldn't handle it.

Just as a colleague entered the kitchen area, I turned and scooped all of it into the trash. He looked at me kind of funny and I felt I needed to qualify - "it's OK, I said - it's just my wife's cooking". He looked startled, and I realized I needed to qualify my qualification - "what I mean to say is that my wife's cooking is dog food".

He looked even more startled. I gave up.

Valentine's Day 2006

Happy Valentine's Day honey! This year for Valentine's Day I took Sherry to a favorite place of ours, the Surfsand Resort at Cannon Beach here in Oregon for an overnight trip. It's usually a gamble at the northern Oregon coast as to the weather in February, but we were treated to a spectacular day. It was calm and as the afternoon wore on, the high clouds were eviscerated of their hold on the day and the sun came out beckoning man and beast (every single dog owner in Portland was at the beach that day, including us) to frolic in the warm winter wonderland.

I overheard a woman say to her companion (referring to the sand) "...it's so light and fluffy, and then down by the ocean it gets harder".

(crickets chirping)

As we checked in, in an unusual self display of assertiveness I relayed that I was disappointed with their website, noting that the workflow led me directly to the rack rate. Now, if there is anything I despise more than paying rack rate at a hotel, I cannot think of it. Give me a discount for early check in, late check in, grey hair, owning a Ford Ranger, anything - but give me a discount. "Well", said the helpful attendant; "that shouldn't have happened". After a chat with the manager and an apology to me, our room rate was slashed by 50%! Thank you very much.

After a few hours on the beach, it was still a skosh too early for dinner but pretty late for lunch. We opted for a late lunch at the Lumberyard and although the service was poor the food was fantastic. I would go again.

Here's a pic of my two favorite gals:

Here's Kadie posing for the camera. If you look closely you will see that she has caught her prey and is guarding it carefully between her paws. Tennis balls with a little beach sand never tasted so good!

The next morning (Monday) we again ventured down to the beach, but it was a vastly different scenario - the wind had picked up, the temperature had dropped probably 10 or more degrees (it is difficult to tell as the wind chill certainly brings a subjective element to the estimating). The clouds reclaimed their status on the sky, and we could only stay out for about an hour as even GoreTex could not subdue the chill. But we know what would. Descending on to that fine Northwest cuisine destination like seagulls to scraps, Pig-N-Pancake welcomed us with open arms and we left satiated with syrup-laden breakfast foods.

On the way home, Highway 26 snakes through the coast range and coming around a corner, we saw a lit flare on the side of the road. Decelerating, we passed a few more flares until what looked like an accident scene came into view. The cars in front of us were slowing down, and an officer was walking the shoulder looking intently into the forest. Our hearts beat faster - what had his rapt attention? Perhaps a fugitive, a modern day Rambo about to spring onto the highway from his forest abode? Suddenly, the officer stood upright and our hearts beat even faster as we saw movement in the woods - emerging into sight, it was indeed a fugitive - a large calf, probably weighing about 400 - 500 lbs, made its way to the shoulder of the road. Now, what do YOU do when you see a cow on the side of the road from a moving car?

Yes, I was strongly tempted to "MOOOoooo" but I don't think the officer would have been amused!

Where is the corkscrew?

We went over to Charlie and Jill's house Friday night for poker. There is never a shortage of laughter with these guys, and Sherry and I adore them. We brought a bottle of wine, but they are not wine drinkers and did not have a corkscrew.

Charlie is one of those guys who can fix anything. He and Jill took a beat up old fixer upper house and transformed it into a stunning display of blending of old craftsman and new interior design.

No corkscrew? No problem. Charlie goes into the garage, comes back with a wood screw and a cordless 18 volt Bosch drill. "RRRrrrrr" says the drill as it imbeds the screw into the cork. "Woomp" says the cork as with the assistance of a pair of pliers it is wrested from it's snug abode. "Gurggle" goes the wine as it is poured into glasses, and a good time was had by all.

You might go to a redneck church if...

Hat tip to Robbin. You might be going to a redneck church if:

1. People ask, when they learn that Jesus fed the 5000, whether the two fish were bass or catfish, and what bait was used to catch 'em.
2. When the pastor says, "I'd like to ask Bubba to help take up the offering," five guys and two women stand up.
3. Opening day of deer season is recognized as an official church holiday.
4. A member of the church requests to be buried in his 4-wheel-drive Ford truck because "It ain't never been in a hole it couldn't get out of."
5. The choir is known as the "OK Chorale."
6. Boone's Farm "Tickle Pink" is the favorite wine for communion.
7. In a congregation of 500 members, there are only seven last names in thechurch directory.
8. Baptism is referred to as "branding."
9. There is a special fund raiser for a new church septic tank.
10. Finding and returning lost sheep isn't just a parable.
11. High notes on the organ set the dogs on the floor to howling.
12. People think "rapture" is what you get when you lift something too heavy.
13. The baptismal font is a #2 galvanized washtub.
14. The choir robes were donated by (and embroidered with the logo) from Billy Bob's Barbecue.

And finally, you might be going to a redneck church if the collection plates are really hubcaps from a '56 Chevy!

What's in a song?

Matthew Johnson posts at BHT that

"..this morning we kicked off a revamped early service that's a little more interactive and definitely more upbeat/younger when it comes to worship songs. That's both good and bad. Check out the lyrics to one song we sang. Tell me if it is about Jesus. I can't tell".

The song he is referring to is "Deeply in love with you" by Kate Spence.

Does Matthew have a point? Let's look at the lyrics:

In my life, You've heard me say I love You
How do I show You it's true
Hear my heart it longs for more of You
I've fallen deeply in love with You

You have stolen my heart
I'm captivated by You
Never will You and I part
I've fallen deeply in love with You

You and I together forever
Nothing can stand in the way
My love for You grows stronger each new day
I've fallen deeply in love with You

©1998 Kate Spence (Admin. by Here To Him Group, LLC)All rights reserved. International copyright secured.CCLI song #2583596

OK, maybe he has a point. it's a little vague and could be applied to different scenarios. But now look at lyrics in this song:

I can't stop the feeling I've been this way before
But, with you I've found the key
To open any door
I can feel my love for you
Growing stronger day by day

Is this love that I'm feeling
Is this the love that I've been searching for
Is this love or am I dreaming
This must be love
Because it's really got a hold on me, a hold on me

Now that's a great Christian song, right? Wrong.

Well, Song #2 certainly has similar lyrical themes - in fact, it was written before Kate's song so it makes me wonder if it perhaps influenced her? Was she a rocker in 1989? Was she at a Whitesnake concert and moved by David Coverdale tossing his long mane of blond and then moved by the Psalms of King David at a time of Christian conversion?

The Whitesnake song certainly wasn't written to bring glory to God, and that's what I believe is Matthew's beef. Kate's song is just generic enough that it's meaning could be changed based on the context it us used in. Therefore, the song becomes equivocal rather than univocal. If the song can be used in a church service, sung at a wedding, listened to on aisle 5 whilst selecting a cantaloupe then has it really distinguised and glorified God? I think not.

I'm privilged to be at a church that uses contemporary worship songs but they are chosen with great care. Once in a while something may come across the bow that may be somewhat like Kate's song, but in the context of our worship services you never, ever wonder who the focus of the song is about.

That's why I love words - they are so important, yet so fragile and easily misunderstood by the meanings we pour into them and the context in which they are used.

The poet John Donne had a life filled with advancements to greatness and then plunges into valleys of defeat. He had an amazing mind though, and his writing is reveals his relationship with God. For example, look at this selection. I don't think there is any ambiguity as to the object of his affection. If my life were a book, I hope the chapters reveal this kind of clarity not only of my love for, but my struggles with; Jesus Christ the Lord:

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurped town, to another due,

Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,but is captived,
and proves weak or untrue.

yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,

But am betrothed unto your enemy.

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor even chaste, except you ravish me.

Now that's good writing! No ambiguity there, is there? Would that all of our songs have this kind of communication (from Holy Sonnett XIV, "Batter my heart oh three-personed God").

Seeking the Unfriendly Seekers

So, I'm approaching our church on Sunday - walking through the parking lot in the rain with my head down, I noticed a license plate frame that had some cute little saying like:

Angels are watching over me

Aww, isn't that cute? I had to pause though to ponder the meaning - was it supposed to purport that image of a delicate little angel wearing diapers helping a birdie meant to represent the fragility of the human race? Or, should it raise the visage of the archangel Michael, sword drawn and refelecting the light of God from the polished blade ready to strike at the enemy (if I had a custom license plate frame about angels it would probably say something like "my guardian angel beat up your guardian angel".


Well, as I got closer to the church yet another customized license plate frame came into view. This one though had no pretense of "churchianity" and did not care that it's driver was worshiping in a house of God. It simply said:

Kiss my A$$

Well, none of the church staff will admit that it is their car. Perhaps it is yours?!?!

Search results from Google you don't want to see

I've enjoyed relatively good health until recently, and rarely availed myself of the service of my Primary Care Physician, Dr. Thomas Firth. He's an awesome doctor, and has been the only one I've seen in my 26 years in Portland, albeit on a pentagonal schedule! I suppose then 5 visits is not too much, but hey - I like the guy.

The net result is that I never know his phone number and have to look it up. Dr. Firth practices at Providence Hospital, so into google typed I the following search criteria:

providence thomas firth

The very first result said this:

The defendant, Thomas Firth (Firth), stands convicted on one count of first-degree murder by a Providence County Superior Court jury.

It seems the good doctor has and evil doppleganger! I'll confess my heart skipped just a teeny beat. But let me reassure you, the Thomas Firth I know would never roll into a convenience store parking lot in an old beater station wagon and blow away the victim with a shotgun. I hope!

Happy New Year!

It's been an interesting month for me. To be honest, it started the day after Christmas so we squeezed a little personal tragedy into December as well. hasn't been a good month at all. But, it gives me hope that all the bad things that could happen to me in 2006 have run their course, and it's downhill from here! Disclaimer:

What follows is simply a lot of whining. A lot of "woe is me". The Pity Party is in session and I'm the guest of honor. Yes, I'm more miserable than Oprah on a diet. Many readers will roll their eyes and say "you think you have it bad? I agree, things could be a lot worse. But indulge me for a moment or two!

1. Dec 26, 2005 - got sick
2. Dec 27, 2005 - truck broke down in Yreka, California
3. Dec 28, 2005 - dealt with the worst plugged toilet I've ever experienced
4. Dec 31, 2005 - garage door motor burned out. Too sick to go to New Years party. Sherry went alone and had a great time.
5. Jan 01, 2006 - service call for the garage door motor - paid way too much cause I'm still sick and can't install it, the guy was a great salesman and now I have a 3/4 horsepower dual light, climate controlled, 6 CD changer plus MP3 player, dual dipstick garage door opener. It opens cans too.
6. Jan 02, 2006 - still sick, and fell off of the roof attempting to remove Christmas lights. Laid there and cried in pain for a few mins, realized no one heard me and sighed, slapped my ego, checked for broken bones, took 3 advil and went to bed.
7. Jan 03 - 07 - still sick. Went to urgent care. They didn't care very urgently and really not all that much, but was diagnosed with severe sinus infection. Taking meds.
8. Jan 08, 2006 - shaking in fear, went up on roof to remove lights. Found that Sherry (she had put them up in November) had nailed them to the roof. Trembling now in barely controlled irrational panic, descended ladder, got a nail puller and pair of pliers, and shakily ascended to the roof. Reached for the first strand of lights and ripped pants from crotch to knee. Grateful I was wearing underwear. Neighbors are getting steaks on the grill and opening beers to watch me.
9. Jan 09 - 11 - still sick. Went to urgent care. They told me to lose some weight. I said I'm hear because I'm sick. "oh", they said. Good news - sinus infection gone. Bad news - severe cold. Said don't go to work on Thursday and Friday.
10. Jan 12 - called mom to wish her a happy birthday. It wasn't her birthday.
11. Jan 12 - 24. Still sick, escalating into very bad asthma. Not sleeping well. Miserable.
12. Jan 25 - Saved my own life. Sherry out of town, I'm eating chicken and rice and got a chunk stuck in my throat. Unable to swallow, not choking but increasing in pain. Remembered watching t.v. and gave myself the Hindenburg maneuver by leaning over the sink, making a fist and drawing my knuckled thumb up the bottom of my ribcage to just under the sternum, and with sudden, hard exertion depressing my thumb into my diaphragm. Woomph! Popped the sucker right out to my surprise!
13. Jan 25-31 - sick, sick, sick. Sick and tired of being sick.

Well, I'm finally getting this post published in early February and I'm feeling much better. I hope all the bad stuff that is going to happen to me this year is now in the past!