My sons and I love a clever ad. Seth sent this one to me.
This is a product of The Richards Group, the same team that gave the world the Chick-fil-A cow. No surprises here!.
Category: Uncategorized Page 24 of 71
We who live insulated lives cannot begin to comprehend the depth of emptiness which arises when one we love is lost. I shudder to think how devastating such would be to me. Some of you already know.
For reasons I need not go into now, a friend recently re-introduced me to John Whitehead, a feisty, bull dog kind of guy, a guy you always want on your side in a battle.
But even bull dogs suffer. Whitehead writes,
Recently, my wife of 42 years, Carol, suddenly passed away. Nothing can convey the feeling of lostness that has come over me. I feel like a gutted fish. My sense of being has been amputated. All sounds, even human voices, seem shrill and overbearing. Strange headaches and twilight sleeping. I have trouble swallowing. A vacuum has descended and all the color has drained from the world and it has not yet returned. Maybe it won’t.
I’m grateful for Whitehead’s honest reflections on loss, shared fully here. Nothing prepares us for this.
But perhaps we can be prepared for being there for those who are facing loss. Our temptation would be to talk someone like Whitehead out of his grief. To throw Bible verses at him, in a way meant to comfort, but which only sting.
Joe Bailey lost three sons in tragic accidents, very close together. In his helpful little book The View from a Hearse, sadly out of print, he makes this poignant reflection:
“I was sitting, torn by grief. Somewon came and talked to me of God’s dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He talked constantly, he said things I knew were true.
“I was unmoved, except to wish he’d go away. He finally did.
“Another cam and sat beside me. He didn’t talk. He didn’t ask leading questions. He just sat beside me for an hour and more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left.
“I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go.”
I know that this blog is read by scientists and engineers, so I’m hopeful of some kind of answer to the question on my mind this afternoon.
And this probably reveals more about my idle mind than anything else.
Let us suppose that an unnamed man is traveling northbound on a still day in a van with the windows rolled down. Let us further suppose that he is traveling at 60 MPH and eating from a bag of Peanut M&Ms. And let us suppose, hypothetically, of course, that this man decides to throw one M&M out the window at a right angle to the direction of travel. And for argument’s sake, let us say that he throws the M&M at a speed of 30 MPH.
Given that the average mass of a peanut M&M is 2.5 grams (I happen to be in possession of the very bag from which the subject M&M was extracted – don’t ask how), what would the path of this M&M look like if traced along the ground?
For a time, as the M&M is in the man’s hand, it will trace a straight line parallel to the road. I understand that once thrown and until the M&M leaves the van, it will trace a curve of some kind. But I assume that all of that changes once it hits the air moving alongside the van.
But does it go immediately backwards (tests have suggested that this is not the case)? Does it continue on the same curve it began while still in the van? Is the curve violently altered by the wind?
I suspect that the exact path would be effected by the shape of the van and the consequent air turbulence immediately alongside the van. I’m hoping that is inconsequential to the final picture and can be ignored.
These are the questions which puzzle my mind.
Weird. I know.
In college, I wrote a paper challenging the views of one Mr. John Calvin, as if I knew anything then.
Particularly, I took issue with Mr. Calvin’s apparent denial of instrumental music having a part to play in Christian worship.
Since that time, my views of Mr. Calvin have – shall we indulge some understatement – mellowed. The theology which informs my life and practice is something people call ‘Calvinism’, though that too narrowly focuses its origin. I would be happy to be called an enthusiastic follower of the content of Calvin’s theology.
But not all of it.
Recently as I prepared a sermon on Psalm 92, I was struck with the instrumental emphasis brought to worship.
1 It is good to give thanks to the LORD,
to sing praises to your name, O Most High;
2 to declare your steadfast love in the morning,
and your faithfulness by night,
3 to the music of the lute and the harp,
to the melody of the lyre.
The players of stringed instruments are commissioned to assist the community in the worship of God. A commission which, if we take Calvin’s approach, ceased with the advent of Christ.
Calvin’s position, as expressed in his commentary on this Psalm, and elsewhere, is that primitive worship lacking the insight that Christ brought, needed this aid of instruments, but in our maturity we have grown beyond that.
“In the fourth verse, he more immediately addresses the Levites, who were appointed to the office of singers, and calls upon them to employ their instruments of music – not as if this were in itself necessary, only it was useful as an elementary aid to the people of God in these ancient times. We are not to conceive that God enjoined the harp as feeling a delight like ourselves in mere melody of sounds; but the Jews, who were yet under age, were astricted to the use of such childish elements. The intention of them was to stimulate the worshippers, and stir them up more actively to the celebration of the praise of God with the heart. We are to remember that the worship of God was never understood to consist in such outward services, which were only necessary to help forward a people, as yet weak and rude in knowledge, in the spiritual worship of God. A difference is to be observed in this respect between his people under the Old and under the New Testament; for now that Christ has appeared, and the Church has reached full age, it were only to bury the light of the Gospel, should we introduce the shadows of a departed dispensation.”
It is an argument embraced by some of his followers today, but it is an argument which falls empty upon my ears.
I will continue a Calvinist, albeit a 99 44/100% one.
Our waiter at The Melting Pot last week is in a band called The Prospect. We enjoyed during dinner talking to him about the dreams and hard work of being in a band. We noted that his music was not yet paying the bills – we assumed that he did not wait tables just because he got to talk to fascinating people like us.
In the course of our conversation, I told him about my deep involvement in the rock music scene. Well, that is, that I know the identical twin brother of the drummer of the band Black Kids.
He was aware of Black Kids. He said he had just purchased a song of theirs off iTunes (which raises another discussion, as I noticed that the guy trying to make his living making music believes that one ought to pay for his music).
What he noted was that a friend of his, the drummer for the band We the Kings, is also an identical twin.
We are noticing a trend here – drummers and twin-dom.
Two occurrences does make a trend, correct?
Two and one-half hours.
That is how long our anniversary dinner took. And we did not mind one bit.
Perhaps Barb and I are simply not used to going to nice restaurants. Perhaps really nice restaurants serve you at a slower pace. We just wouldn’t know that. We don’t go out to dinner, and when we do, it’s likely to be to Cracker Barrel, or Outback if it is a special occasion.
In and out in one hour. Satisfied.
But thanks to the generosity of our two at-home daughters (offering money and babysitting) and thanks to a discounted certificate from Restaurant.com (you should check that out), we went to the Sarasota Melting Pot.
The Melting Pot is a fondue restaurant. Little chunks of food are brought to you. You stick them on a long fork, and put them in a hot pot on your table. The appetizer (cheese) and dessert (chocolate) is a dipping exercise. The main course involves actually cooking the meat in the pot.
Because of the process, dinner here takes quite a bit longer than a normal night out. And that is exactly what we want when on an anniversary date.
Thanks H and J!
If the government is going to help people who have lost jobs in aged or transitioning industries get back to work, how should they do so? This post suggests that the default answer is retraining. Makes sense on the surface. After all, if a metal worker can no longer work as a metal worker because all the metal worker jobs are gone, then we can help him by teaching him how to do something else. This is far better than simply shipping him a check for staying at home and doing nothing, thereby creating dependence and stealing his dignity.
The point the author makes, though, is that such training does not work. To train a parcel of workers for non-existent jobs only builds often crushed hope and does not actually solve the problem. Her suggestion is one of subsidizing companies with real work to hire and train people for real jobs. I can see problems with this as well, but it is an interesting discussion, one which Christians need to be a part of.
If you have a few seconds, watch the intro to this film clip and tell me: does Daniel Ratcliffe’s left eyebrow extend OVER his hair, or is that my imagination?
Public figures caught in the wrong normally are able to string together a few words which sound like an apology, but aren’t. To say, “I’m sorry if I let the public down” or “I’m sorry if anyone was offended” is not to take credit for an offense. To say, “I’m sorry if…” is to leave open the possibility that one did nothing offensive in the first place. Better far to say, “I’m sorry that I did this, and I ask your forgiveness for it.” That is to own it.
Frank Gehry is an architect who spoke recently at an event called the Aspen Ideas Festival. James Fallows who was in attendance at Gehry’s presentation commented publicly on Gehry’s response to a questioner, a response which seemed to be unseemly.
Gehry’s response to Fallows is printed here, and concludes with the line “I apologize for offending you.”
What do you think? Does this make the cut? Does it reflect the sense of humility and ‘owning wrong’ which is part and parcel of true sorrow for wrong?
If so, learn from it, and with your spouse, children, family, and friends, go and do likewise.
I’ve been using the same mechanic off and on for over twenty years. One of the benefits of his shop is that it is 100 yards from a Books-a-Million, 200 yards from a Starbucks, and about 500 yards from Panera Bread.
Location, location, location!
So, since we are enjoying a steady downpour today – a rarity here – I chose the BAM while the mystery leak is investigated on my Ford.
If you run a bookstore, there are many problems you will face, not the least of which is, of course, on-line competition.
What you don’t want to face is a leaky roof, a fate this store has apparently not avoided!
